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nono-serves · 16 hours ago

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hiiii!

First off, I just wanna say that I love your work babes!!! It makes my day to see you post :))

Going off the hcs where it was our first birthday party since our family wasn't very well off, I was wondering... could we perchance get a fic for George visiting reader's parents with them? Usually, reader visits their parents by themselves because George is so busy racing. However, this time, they go during summer break, so George sees this as an opportunity to join them. Reader protests because they're a little bit embarrassed about how George would react to where they lived (upper lower class in like the deep south of the U.S.) and doesn't want him to go. It takes some time for George to convince reader to let him go... and I feel like I'm rambling so much so you can definitely choose how the plot goes after they arrive at reader's parent's house!

(Sorry this is really self-indulgent if you can't tell 😭)

Please don't judge

summary: you were afraid of George finding out about your past living conditions, it escalated a bit!

Warnings!: smaller argument,

notes: this took way too long I'm sorry, I have so much work it can barely be called human, but I'll try to do more again, now that this biggger work has left my drafts

wordcount: 1.881

It was in the early evening when your boyfriend George found you in the bedroom, open suitcase on the bed and clothes scattered around the room. Soft rain drops could be heard, falling against the window. It has been raining the last 3 days, nothing feeling like summer during the so called 'summer break'.

You had said nothing to George about a vacation or plans to travel so far you needed a suitcase to pack, so he was quite surprised to find you and the bedroom in this state.

"Darling what is this? Were are you going, I didn't forget any kind of trip right?", his words were slow, almost hesitant. The confusion clear in his voice.

"No, you didn't forget anything. I'm just flying out to my parents on wednesday, I must have forgotten to tell you..", you had to stop yourself from mumbling the last part, because you knew damn well you did not tell him.

It was a bit unlogical, you knew that, you had never seen George judge someone by their living condicions or money situations. You knew he would never think less if you just because your family couldn't always afford the newest toys or a night out at any given occasion, but some tiny part that was way louder than it should have been, told you it was emberassing for him to date someone from your 'league', or worse he might start to think you were just dating him for money.

"Yeah you did forget to tell me about that, it's sunday already? Do you need me to drive you to the airport?", your boyfriend offered, seemingly he already forgot about you not informing him.

Inside you sparked a tiny bit of hope. Hope that he wouldn't ask about coming with you, going to your childhood home with you. Because he has done that. many time already he had asked you to meet your parents. You had declined him everytime, telling him excuses from him having important meetings and how he should be focusing on the season, to your aunt having such a fragile heart, that you bringing someone new could send her to the hospital. You always chose a few days in the middle of the season so he couldn't come without missing a major event or even a race.

But this year the only pissible had been the summer, because of your dads new job, that required him to be gone almost all day and when he finally came home he was exhausted. So during the first month it was time for your family to adjust to the new schedule, that would affect them all. And now he had taken a week of from work, so you could finally visit.

So of course, you thought, would George never miss such an opportunity to finally meet your closest relatives. And even when he wasn't proposing that idea right now, you wouldn't have long to wait, because later that night George already started asking.

"Since you're visiting your family over the summer break this time, do you think I could come with you and meet them? I've wanted to meet them for so long.", sometimt during his question he had turned his head towards you, his breath faintly hitting your cheek.

"I'm not sure George, do you really have the time? I am sure there has to be an important event again, no?", you just needed to dodge him.

"No, I cleared the entire summer break so we could spend some well deserved time together!", by now his hand had slipped into yours, brushing his thumb along yours. "Or is it that you don't want me there? Is your fragile-heart-aunt there again? I thought normally it's just your closest family. Darling look at me. What is it?", he brought his hand from where it was softly wrapped around yours to your chin. He turned your head to face his, but you refused to meet his eyes.

"No aunt Tina isn't there. It's just that maybe I should ask my family about it. No I definitly have to ask my family first!", you grabbed his wrist and moved his touch from your face again.

"Y/N you're a terrible liar. Let's discuss this in the morning okay?", he pressed a soft good night kiss on your temple before he turned around to turn off his bedside lamp.

"Good night darling."

The next day you only had to wait until breakfast for your boyfriend to bring it up again. He woke up a good 30 minutes before you so he made pancakes for the both of you.

He had even brought them to bed for you, three (a bit wonky) pancakes were stacked on the plate, topped off with fresh berries and some maple syrup. Your fork had almost hit the deliciius treat, before you could even notice the question marks drawn onto them with the golden syrup.

"George what is this? Is this about me visiting my family?", the realisation had slowly started to creep in. He really just wanted to meet your parents.

"Yes it is. Why won't you let me go with you? Do you not want me to meet them? Do they even know you have a boyfriend?", you could see the slight desperation and confusion in his eyes, clear as the day.

"It's not like that George...please trust me on this, will you?", you knew was not going to end well, but you also knew that him finding out about how you grew up was something you didn't want him to know.

"Like what is it then Y/N? Please enlighten me.", his word got a bit more passive-aggressive, but not louder, not in the slightest.

"It's maybe just that...that maybe I don't want you to come to my childhood home with me. Maybe I'm not ready for you to see such a personal part of me!", you eyes had started to widen while you ended that sentence. Even before you said it, you knew it might not have the best result. So as you had not even started formulating an apology, George had already left you alone with the almost cold pancakes.

For the next 5 hours you didn't see him. He had went to the gym with his trainer, you knew that. His training was always acheduled on little weekly notes, hold to the refrigerator by magnets. So today was straining, he would have left either way, but you didn't expecr it to be with such tension between the two of you.

You had done some thinking in those few hours and came to the conclusion, that you had to tell him. And apologize. Definitly apologize.

-----

When George entered the apartment again, hair still damp from a recent shower at the gym, he was hit with a smell, that he did for sure not expect. The smeel of food, Spaghetti aglio olie to be exact.

His dufflebag was drooped without any care as he made his way to the kitchen, where he found you still working on dinner. He had the feeling this was going to be some kind of apology and afterwards you would tell him to not mention the trip again, but ypu had other plans.

"George! Why are you home already, I wanted to be finished with the food before you are here."

"Why are you making me spaghetti darling?", he sounded tired, borderline exhausted.

"This is my try at an apology, of course I also wanted to say that I was being ridiculous and shit.", your eyes were locked onto your fidgetting hands by now, apologies weren't exactly your strong suit to be honest.

"Let's talk about this at dinner okay? We should not start such an emotiobal talk with empty stomaches.", he brought one arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to press a kiss on your temple, because George was George and he had already forgiven you when he smelled his favourite homemade meal.

Your boyfriend had barely started eating when you already started to ramble, wanting to get it over with, to be on 'good terms' again. Just the idea of him being mad at you made you squirm in your chair from being uncomfortable.

"Listen George I know I was being unreasonable but I panicked and started thtowing around white lies. In no world is my childhold bedroom too personal to share with you! It's apart of my life, and I want to share my whole life with you!", after hearing and registering your words George had stilled, a sinlge noodle slipping off his fork.

"I was never really mad at you sweetheart, I was just so frustrated why you wouldn't tell me the reason you didn't want me to come with you. So please don't apologize, you're long forgiven.", he paused, line the debating on actuall saying the next few words. "But I still want to know. Please."

Now came the hard part, you wanted to tell him, you had planned to because you knew he deserved to know the truth.

"It's a bit silly. And you need to promise not to judge me okay? Not for what I'm about to tell you and also not me for not telling you. I know technically you wouldn't judge, you're not one of those people, but I got in my head about it.", you really hoped he wouldn't take it personal, that you thought he was a spoiled rich kid that judged other on their living conditions.

"Promise"

"Okay, thank you. So I didn't want you to think of me less, or of my family. Because we were pretty poor, not homeless and life threatening poor, but noticeable poor. No expensive toys, no vacations, no kind of birthday party. And I didn't want you to see that, because I was afraid of your judgement.", your eyes had locked on your hands again, laying in your lap.

George was baffled, he had not expected your past money issues to be the problem. No, in his mind it was more likely that he had said or done something wrong.

"That's it? Oh Darling, that's okay, that's nothing. I would never have a problem with that, I'm just happy you don't still have to go throug that.", his hand found your chin once again and lifted you head, so he could look into your eyes.

At the glistening tears in your eyes he frowned, getting up and making his way over to you. He kneeled down beside your chair and turned you to his direction by your legs.

"I promise you that your familys wealth is no kind of issue to me in any world. And if they still have those issues, I would love to help them. Okay?",he now wiped a stray tear feom your cheek, before returning his hands to yours again. "Can you tell me that you will never do this again? Keep a secret and lwt it get between us in any form?"

"Yes George, of course. I'm still so sorry though for saying those bad things.", you took a deep breath to prevent you self from spilling tears again.

"And please come with me, I wan't you to meet my family. And they have been dying to meet you too."

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #george russel x reader #george russell #george russel imagine #george russel x y/n #george russel fanfic

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goobstars · 2 days ago

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PLEASEEEE WRITE MORE ROMANTIC PAINTER STUFF IM BEGGING YOU IM SO DEPRESSED OVER THE NEW ENDING I NEED SOME COMFORT AND LOVE 😖❤️

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓

summary : after sneaking into painter's room to surprise him, you're met with the sight of him making art of...you and him?

tags : romance, established crushing, painter has a body in this fic (because yes), and teasing.

note : i wanna kiss the computer now, so yeah.

painter was confusing, to say the least.

when you first met him, it was through a door sign. he didn't introduce himself; he just asked you if you wanted to see a cool trick, and you were then locked in a room with the eyefestation.

what a lovely first impression.

throughout your first run, instead of meeting him face-to-face, you were taunted by his voice or the sight of him flickering on the signs where the door numbers were supposed to be. you'd be told to go into rooms with heavy breathing or growling, and if you fell for it, you'd be met with the laughter of painter as he called you a moron.

he'd also tell you to touch the lasers that were attached to the turrets, but unfortunately for him, you were smart enough to not fall for that.

every time you turned off the turrets, or passed by a bad door, you'd be insulted. he'd tell you that you were no fun, or that you were a coward.

your first thought about him, despite not officially meeting him yet, was that he was obnoxious. he was just like every other monster attempting to kill you, and if you ever were to see him, you wouldn't hesitate to punch him.

but that thought quickly changed when you did eventually meet him.

he was hidden in a room that was guarded by a single turret, and that confused you. you had been through rooms with about three turrets, so why didn't his room have that? a single turret was fairly easy to avoid, and that turret was the one meant to keep him safe.

the room was one you easily entered, for you just dashed inside the hole as soon as the turret faced away from you. you then only had to climb a bit of stone before you were met with the view of painter's room.

technology coated his room, and not too far away from the entrance rested painter.

he was behind a black fence, and the only way to get inside his little room was with a purple keycard.

he noticed you as soon as you walked in, and if you were being honest, he didn't look how you expected him to. sure, his face was familiar, but you really just thought that he was a computer. but he wasn't, he had a body.

certain wires could be seen from his joints, and he wore only a white lab coat that allowed the metal that covered him to be seen.

instead of being met with insults or taunts, painter actually greeted you with an apology. he held up his hands as he informed you to not be upset with him, and that he didn't hate you.

of course, you didn't take his words seriously at first. how could he say that he didn't hate you, but go and attempt to kill you? your hesitation was apparently obvious to painter as he started to explain everything to you.

in summary, sebastian had told him to delay the retrieval of the crystal for as long as possible. painter was promised that if he did so, he would be able to leave this place once sebastian found a way to escape the facility. painter didn't have anything against you; he just wanted to leave this place. he was forced to mine roblux before the lockdown happened, and in his words, he just wanted to go back to painting art.

as he told you all of this, you couldn't help but feel sympathetic for him. just like you, he wanted to leave this place so he could be free.

so, as soon as he finished talking, you expressed that you didn't hate him.

and for some reason, that seemed to surprise him.

soon after you had said that, you left, and it wasn't long before you noticed slight changes when it came to your runs.

whenever you entered a room with many doors, you'd be given directions like usual, but they were different.

a lot of them were spoken in a sarcastic way, and it confused you because it was like painter was actually preventing you from getting hurt now. he'd say stuff like, "you should go to the door on the left, it's totally the safe one."

and if you would actually attempt to follow his sarcastic directions by going to the left door, he'd scream at you to not go through it. when you turn around and go through the right door, he'd mumble about how stupid you were through the intercom system.

you also noticed how the gauntlets he put you through with the eyefestation were shorter, and the turrets would sometimes stay turned off when you entered a room. yet, in the rare case that the turrets were still on and you grazed one of the lasers, they'd hastily be shut off before the gun could even shoot.

though, there weren't only changes to your runs, but painter as well.

of course, he would still mock you sometimes as you entered his room, but he seemed content with you being there. this resulted in you staying longer in his room to take a break, and eventually, you found the keycard to enter his little room.

and that's where the confusing bit about painter started.

he used to chat with you while you watched him paint, and sometimes, he'd even paint something for you if you asked. you liked the way he perked up whenever you complimented his drawings, so you made it a habit to always go into his room whenever you went to visit.

but that's how he used to be.

lately, he's been more secretive about his drawings. of course, he'd still draw stuff for you, but he wouldn't show you what he had been working on. you adored seeing what his creative mind came up with, and it slightly disappointed you that whenever you walked into his room, he'd scramble to hide his face so you didn't see what he was drawing.

so, you made a plan to sneak into his room. usually, painter had his back turned from the entrance, and he only became aware of your presence as soon as you announced yourself. this time, you wouldn't be doing that.

you'd sneak inside, grab the keycard, and open the door in hopes you were quick enough to where painter couldn't hide whatever he was drawing.

it wasn't your most solid plan, but it worked in your mind.

and that led to where you were now.

your head was slightly poked into painter's room while you eyed him through the fence, and he seemed to be invested in whatever he was doing. it was obvious he wasn't tormenting any expendables, for he wasn't connected to the little things in his room, and that only left one possibility as to what he was doing.

he was drawing.

perfect.

you slowly made your way into his room as you stood up from your crouched position, and your eyes immediately glanced over at the purple keycard that rested on a nearby table.

every movement you made was one of precision as you made your way over to the keycard, and you swiped it off the table. since you were near the door, you were now out of painter's sight, but that didn't mean he couldn't hear you.

now, you were aware of how loud doors that needed keycards were. they practically beeped as loud as they could to announce someone was entering, so all you had to do was attempt to quickly get the door open before running inside.

you took a few steps over to the door, and you let out a quiet breath before slotting the keycard inside.

a loud beep rang out, and as the door opened, painter snapped to face you.

and you got a full view of what was on his screen.

it was a drawing of you and painter, and he appeared to be holding you while you both...kissed?

he drew you and him kissing?

you couldn't think about it much longer, for painter let out a shout.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"

his screen flashed back to his usual face, and you were met with the sight of a rather embarrassed painter.

his eyes were wide while light pink lines were present underneath them, and his mouth was pressed into a frown.

the keycard in your hand dropped onto the floor, and you stared at him in partial shock. did you see that right? had he actually drew a picture of you and him kissing?

you debated on whether you had just seen something or not, but if you had seen something else, you doubted painter would get this defensive about it. so, your mind wasn't just making things up; you had seen painter drawing a photo of you and him kissing.

and oddly enough, you didn't mind it.

a grin sprawled onto your face while painter lifted up his hands, and he started to shake his head. "it's not what it looks like—"

"what were you drawing, painter?" you teased while you started to slowly walk towards him, and you watched as he started to walk backwards.

with each step you took, he got closer to the wall behind him, and his back was soon pressed against it while his hands moved to rest against the wall. he attempted to look around for a way out, but it was already too late, for you were already closing in on him.

"i-i wasn't drawing anything, you're just stupid..." his words died in his throat once you finally stood in front of him, and he looked everywhere but at you. he wouldn't meet your gaze, but as you grabbed the collar of his lab coat with both of your hands, he didn't really have a choice.

you tugged his coat so that his screen was close to your face, and you tilted your head.

"then why did i see a drawing on your screen of me and you kissing? did my mind just make that up?"

he had been caught.

his hands were pressed against the wall behind him, and his body slightly trembled while a low sigh erupted from him. what was the point in denying anything? it was obvious you had seen what he was drawing, so even if he attempted to try and convince you that you were just imagining things, it wouldn't work.

"i'm sorry, it's just what i've been thinking about lately—"

"you should be sorry." you stated, but before he could even feel the slightest bit remorseful, you continued to speak. "you should be sorry for drawing those things and not asking me to recreate them with you."

what?

"what?" the question hastily erupted from painter, and you slightly laughed while you peered up at him. "and you call me the moron...i want to kiss you. can i kiss you?"

you wanted to kiss him?

were you just messing with him?

by the determined gleam in your eye, it was obvious you weren't. you were being dead serious with him.

painter stared at you for a moment, and eventually, he gave you a slight nod.

and that's all it took for you to tug on his collar.

your lips pressed against his screen, and at first, it went as well as you'd thought it would, but that was before you started hearing an odd noise.

you opened your eyes in confusion, but it flashed into worry as soon as you noticed the glitches that were coating his screen. you pulled back while your eyes widened, and you watched as painter lifted a hand to grab the side of his head.

the glitches slowly started to settle, and once they fully did, you attempted to question if he was alright.

yet, the ask faltered from your mind as soon as you saw painter's expression.

his eyes narrowed, and a deep flush was present on his face while his mouth was partially agape. you didn't even know he could get this flustered.

but your actions had proved that thought wrong.

your hands were still grasping the collar of his lab coat, and you felt your face grow warm under his stare. despite his eyes just being scribbles, his gaze felt intense. he was practically peering into your soul as the room was filled with silence.

your attention flickered to your hands as you noted how you had scrunched up his coat, and as you let go of it to pull your hands back, you were only met with the sensation of painter grasping your wrists.

his grip was firm, but not tight enough to actually hurt you. it just made it evident that he didn't want you to leave, and that idea made your mind go blank while he pulled you closer.

your arms were moved to wrap around his neck as he let go of your wrists, and his hands moved to grab your waist.

"could you do that again...?" despite the boldness in his actions, his words were anything but that. his voice trembled with every syllable he uttered while he stared down at you, and he glanced away for a moment before looking back at you. "please?"

how could you say no to him?

#𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 #·˚ ༘ ~ writing #roblox pressure #roblox pressure x reader #roblox pressure x you #pressure #pressure x reader #pressure x you #painter #painter x reader #painter x you #painter pressure #painter pressure x reader #painter pressure x you #romantic.

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3ldergodz · 2 days ago

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Sebastian x reader

Idk this is probably a drabble but it's what I was thinking about.

When you first came into his shop Sebastian treated you like any other expendable, which to explain further, he treated you as expendable. That wasn't a cruel thing on his part, most of them treated him the same, like they were all in this game of every person for themselves, just to try to be the one to survive at the end.

You didn't do things this way.

Everyone was a bit nervous around Sebastian, but what he could instantly tell about you was how scared you were of him. He assumed his appearance at first, but you also tended to avoid the other expendables, he could tell you would be easy pickings.

And he was right, because you died very quickly, and he didn't expect to see you again. There were a lot of people like that, ones who thought that maybe they could make it, but after realizing that death wasn't exactly permanent as long as it happened in the black site... They decided that maybe prison was better than that hell. So they went back to their sentence.

You came back though, and he didn't really care, was just surprised at the resilience of someone he had deemed too weak to handle this place. You did keep dying easy, but each time you managed to stay alive a little bit longer, until he could say you were one of the people he considered a 'regular'.

You were a lot nicer than the others, at least after you realized he wasn't going to eat or hurt you. But you did still act apprehensive towards him, but it slowly started to be the same kind you had towards everyone else. He... Did not like that he scared you more than others, it felt... Cruel to dislike someone due to their appearance but... He understood. There were so many things here that were trying to kill you that having a fear of anything that didn't look human made sense, even if it didn't make it hurt any less. So he was glad to see you start to relax around him more.

It was during one of the moments of you in his shop where Painter had called him that he started to understand you more. You didn't say anything, but as the two had talked he could notice you giving him curious glances, not ignoring him in favor of the supplies like most would. He had made a bit of a joke of it, which had made you turn away, a bit embarrassed. He kinda regretted that...

Later on, after a few more deaths of course, you had made your way into his shop again. You were a bit quieter than last time, not looking him in the face, but you held a large pile of files and dropped them on the ground in front of him.

"I figured you could use these... I..." You paused, swallowing. "I just need a few to not get in trouble with Urbanshade if I do make it out this run... But I don't have any room for any more supplies so just, take them." You quickly left the room then, only having a few in your bag now, leaving Sebastian feeling a bit confused. You really weren't cut out for this... But he was starting to feel guilty about you getting killed.

You didn't survive that run, but when he had to talk to you about why you died... He didn't make a joke out of it. He really didn't want to seem like he cared, but he really did try to make sure to explain why you had died and how to avoid it again. He didn't think you'd be the one to survive this, but he hoped he could save you as much pain as he could.

It did seem to help though, and you made it a bit further the next run. He decided to take it upon himself to help you the best he could, let you feel some hope that you were progressing at least... And he didn't want to admit it, but he was starting to almost want to see you.

And then you found Painter.

He would've flipped out if he had known before the A.I. had told him, he didn't want any expendable near the kid, but the fact that you went against Urbanshade's orders was a novel thing to him. You were trying to survive, the same as him, and yet if he was in your position he never would have done the same thing... You ended up killed again, but the company had decided that you went against orders anyway... He was glad the timeline reset, he warned you to stay away from Painter.

But you asked him the strangest question the next time he saw you, looking through his things in the shop.

"If you two escape, how are you going to make sure Painter has power? Or that he doesn't get damage from the elements? I doubt you could be able to be in society... No offense." You commented. "I mean... Maybe... If I'm able to get out I could take him with me? I could find him somewhere to get plugged in, maybe connect him to the internet or something..."

Sebastian laughed. "I don't think we'd want Painter anywhere near the internet, it'd scar him for life." He joked, then paused, his face more serious. "But, I don't think you could take him. They'd shoot him on sight if they saw him. I have a plan to make sure both of us live. I wouldn't have promised him anything if I wasn't able to make sure he stayed alive."

You paused, nodding with a sigh. "I guess that makes sense."

Sebastian swallowed, looking away. He felt bad, he didn't want you to die.

You had come into the shop when him and Painter were talking.

"Hey Sebastian, ever since you told me that you played music I've been wanting to ask. What type of music did you play?" The A.I. asked.

"I'd say I was pretty good on the electric guitar, played some alt rock and metal back in the day. But that was a long time ago, who knows how much the scene has changed in the past ten years."

"I don't think I've ever heard the guitar before, or any music really."

"You serious, kid??" Sebastian turned.

"Yup! ... Would you be willing to play for me sometime?"

"I could try, sure, but I'm not sure if these hands are capable of strumming. Not anymore." The older man sighed, looking down at his hands. Painter went quiet.

You paused for a moment, looking up at the two, before humming.

"this oldddd... Ruby rider... Was Ruby riding alone-" you sang, laughing slightly.

"What are you doing?" Sebastian asked.

"Just sing with me, trust me." You smiled. "She's a sturdy, solitary stone..."

Sebastian did his best to join in with the song, even if he clearly didn't know the lyrics.

"this olddd rubyyyy rider, not a fusion no more... Now the dirt and the dust and the danger is my new home.. I used to think I would always be by your side, but lately you've been rather cold. One look in your eye could make an honest gem cry, but Ruby rider don't need no one to holdddd."

"why is the character a rock?" Sebastian asked.

"Forgot that you've never seen the show," you laugh, "it's a long story."

Painter laughed, a glitchy noise filling his audio. "So that was music?"

"I guess..." Sebastian replied.

"Of course it was!" You smile. "The oldest kind, before any instrument or technology. So now you've heard music Painter."

Painter was ecstatic, and Sebastian couldn't help but laugh. He felt a bit... Odd, a bit red, warm... He didn't like it but... He also did.

#Sebastian solace x reader painter #sebastian solace #pressure #sebastian x reader #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #painter #roblox pressure

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loveanddeeptrash · 3 days ago

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Oh boy, I love angst~ Lemme add my two cents to this cuz I love a hurt/comfort story~

Yes, I'm take a small break from Reset because my mind was turning to mush, and this prompt just hit me right. I wrote this in like an hour hahaha

You now have some semblance of happiness, a new life that you strive to live through. And then it happens, you get pregnant. Something you never thought you'd ever go through, or at least something you'd go through with someone else. Someone you can no longer have in your life.

The heart wrenching idea that he now begins to look after your future child, hidden in the shadows. Their guardian angel, if you will. He should be mad, jaded, but the child looks so much like you, acts just like you, that he can't help but fall in love with them. Sylus begins to leave little gifts for the child to find, trinkets he thinks they'd like, and he adores the little squeals and happy dances the child does upon finding them.

And then maybe, to further amp the angst, an incident occurs that he was unable to prevent now that he no longer had his abilities and you and your partner lose their lives. The child is left alone, abandoned. No one else able to look after them, "Because they're busy. Because they have their own kids to feed. Because why would they take care of a child not their own?"

Of course Sylus immediately volunteers to take the child in, it was never a debate. Because he's able. Because he cares. Because that child is now the only thing left of you and he has a primal need to make sure they're safe - happy. He's scared, worried that he's going to irreparably damage them and he'd have no one else to blame. No one else to ask for help.

There were dreams he'd have of a fantastic life, where you and him had been able to meet in time and live together. The meeting would be emotional, the both of you elated and scared. Yet happy nonetheless that you'd now be able to spend the rest of your lives together. You'd move in together, maybe even move into a new place for a new beginning, and live a happy life. Then you'd have a child together, many years in the future, both of you nervous but happy. He dotes on his child, you scold him for being too soft, but what else is he supposed to do when he loves the two of you with his entire being.

Yet Sylus opens his eyes and remembers that this never happened, that it could never happen now that you were gone. But he still had your child. He steps up, makes sure that your child has the best of everything. He strives to be a good dad, has a couple of hiccups, yet the two of them love each other as if a true family. The child asks about you, Sylus answers as best as he can. At first they're confused that he isn't their actual dad, but they soon overcome that issue since they know that Sylus loves them. They think of him as their dad, and they blossom into a successful person.

And, to his surprise, Sylus learns a new form of love: a paternal love. He learns what it feels to love someone unconditionally, to watch them step forward in their life and to be proud of their achievements. He learns how to gently scold and guide and advise, always for their betterment. He learns to accept your end and continue on, fueled now with living alongside your, now his, child until the end.

In the end, once his last life comes to an end, he only hopes to be able to see you again and tell you how he was able to love your child. How he was able to mold and shape them into an upstanding person, someone he knew you'd be proud of. And if you could ever see it in you, he could only hope to be allowed to be held in your arms as you praise him for taking such good care of your our child.

alternate ending to error 404 where sylus still manages to cross dimensions—but he gets to you a little too late, when you’ve already settled for a quiet, cookie-cutter life.

maybe he shows up on your wedding day, wearing a tux because he could at least pretend to dress the part, standing at the back of the crowd far enough not to cause a scene. you’re in white, and older than he remembers. older than him, now, in this borrowed body. and still, to him, you’re as breathtaking as the day he first truly saw you—his impossible, beautiful angel.

maybe your eyes meet. maybe you find each other behind the chapel your mother insisted on, and he gets one last dance. maybe he’s allowed to kiss your hand. and maybe you pretend there aren’t tears in both your eyes when you walk back inside, while he stands there watching the love of all his lives walk out of his life, this final one, without him.

...

*send tweet*

#love and deepspace sylus #lads #my mind is mush #i'm tired of working on caleb i wanna focus on someone else #sobbing #error #error 404 #lads sylus #sylus #i've been fighting a cold for weeks please let me rest

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maddolphin777 · 2 days ago

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I do think Astarion not being cured of his vampirism is the best conclusion to his story on a writing level, and I'd never change the existing endings, BUT it's so much fun to imagine how it might go if it was cured anyway (spawn ending of course).

Like, imagine being able to see yourself in the mirror for the first time in two hundred years. He probably knows what he looks like by the end of the spawn route because I refuse to believe he never asked anyone to paint him or show him with the tadpoles, but he's entirely missing the experience of being able to do it whenever he wants. So now he can actually see what his hair looks like while he styles it, and he can practice expressions in the mirror to refine how he comes across to others, and you best bet he's going to be a whole new person after a few hours (or just even more confident in what he already had!). Ascended Astarion spends a whole lot of time looking in the mirror, and I don't think Spawn Astarion would be much different (although his feelings about it might change a bit).

There's also the fact that he's like... mortal now. Sure, it was possible to be killed as a vampire, but it's frankly much more difficult, and during the events of the game, he had the added assurance of basically being able to be revived whenever. Astarion spends a lot of his development learning not to let himself and his decisions be commanded by fear, and accepting himself at the level of strength and power he is. A lot of that is social, but he is also very used to others having and exerting physical power over him, and wanting to take that control for himself. I think being turned back into essentially a normal high-elf would leave him feeling vulnerable, more than he was ready for, and he might regress a bit in his thought patterns.

He's alive now! Great! But in exchange for the sun and no longer having to drink blood, he has to wrestle with a way of being he no longer understands and that he feels is considerably weaker. He isn't a special elf necessarily, just a Baldurian with a once-cushy job and two hundred years' experience being a slave, and one who happened to become a hero of sorts (or not, I suppose). Even if he did have experience with fighting and such before he was turned, he hasn't adapted to needing to defend himself in the way mortals normally do. He can still kill, but a stab wound that would've been an irritation before is now potentially fatal. And he's died once before.

Even simpler things will be more or less brand new to him. There are some illnesses vampires can contract, and so many more they can't. His immune system won't be adapted to everything going around two hundred years after when he was originally alive. He'll be getting sick left and right, and he's unfamiliar with that kind of sickness too!

Meanwhile, he's entirely unused to simple things like having to eat every day and drink water. Before, he needed blood to keep himself strong and mentally clear, but not to survive necessarily. On top of that, you need to drink water and eat food far more often than vampires need to drink blood if you want to avoid severe negative consequences (... like death). I don't imagine this would be easy for him. I already think that drinking blood is a bit of a challenging thing for him mentally due to the deprivation Cazador had him under, but also the fact he was forced into drinking blood he didn't want (of rotten rats) regularly as well.

I've toyed around with the idea of him having disordered eating (blood drinking?) patterns, while still being a vampire. I think the lack of self control it inspires may be frightening to him, and that will only be enhanced by how long he went without enough of it. He'll have an endless drive to consume, stronger than it should be, but he isn't really used to being able to give in. It doesn't feel so different from Cazador's command over him, forcing him to feed or not to feed. Without his vampirism, I think this would likely manifest the same way, but with an added dimension of complete novelty. He probably doesn't even remember what enjoying food is like, only that he once did (the Elfsong's calamari, lol). He's going to be struggling with a feeling of deprivation while also feeling out of control, and he's also going to struggle with not being used to needing so much. Whether this results in overeating or undereating is another question, but in my opinion, it's both. Alternating.

On the topic of bodily changes, his body will visibly change. He'll probably still be pale, but not quite as. His eyes will change color. I can't tell if vampires are meant to be able to gain/lose body mass (I don't think they should be able to, but if you play as origin Astarion, they of course still have the line from Shadowheart about him gaining weight, and then he responds with something like "you don't want to know what I've been eating"... so idk). He'll lose his fangs, and he just won't look as threatening in general. That appearance he's so used to using as his main tool, or even as a weapon, is changed. He needs to adapt to that as well. Maybe this is good! He's trying to move away from that way of seeing himself, after all. But it's still uncomfortable.

And then, FINALLY: he will be able to engage in simple mortal joys. This is one of the main appeals of Ascension - being able to enjoy food, alcohol, everything to its fullest extent instead of relying on blood for everything. I think being able to taste wine again (and get properly drunk on it?) would be a big deal for him, as would being able to sample fancy dishes. The sun is another one of these things, something most take for granted but he has only ever experienced on a time limit. And unlike tasting food and alcohol properly, he's actually had a taste of the sun himself, so it would be a very welcome reunion.

This all is also why I think he puts so much emphasis on regaining his ability to walk in the sun rather than being cured. He seems passively fond of the idea of no longer becoming a vampire, but he wants to walk in the sun again (although he does accept being unable to, an important development!). Weakness against the sun is, to him, the worst aspect of his vampirism after Cazador's death. Ascension would've given him just about every appealing aspect of being mortal, with several bonuses neither high elves nor vampire spawn have, but if he doesn't choose it, all these aspects of becoming alive again are just hanging above him. But he needs to sacrifice the state of being he is used to and the strengths he has come to expect if he wants to become his old elven self, who he doesn't even know anymore.

Anyway. Long ramble over. I have more thoughts on this topic, but I think I'll leave it off here.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #i'm writing a fic about this btw #not posted yet but. clearly i have thoughts #but also. unrelated. why isn't there an option to send him to Avernus with Karlach like Wyll?#please Larian #that would've been so fun

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puzzleddonkey · 1 day ago

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I have a question who is this moon mite? Like why is he tall and different and what’s his backstory? This oc get me intrigued and interested!

This mite is Caedmon, a solitary soldier living in the ruins of what was once one of the most powerful super colonies of the Moon Cluster. He wasn't a leader, not even a soldier (as a role and as a caste), just a humble little worker who spent his days letting his artistry run wild. He'd read the oldest of mite literature, he'd write the thoughts that ache inside, he'd paint visions, skulpt futures, and play songs that combine them both. He was an artist, which is another way to say he was a complete loser. Even in a colony full of artists, he was the odd one out, teased and bullied for his creations. Somehow, amongst losers, he was the most loser of them all, far too eccentric for their tastes, but even then, he wouldn't give up on his craft. The bullying would be the smallest of his troubles when his colony and another went to war. Conflicts between colonies are common, wars especially, but a war between super colonies is a devastating event, practically two entire moons going after each other while endangering any colonies settled on neighboring moons. This war would force all of Caedmon's colony into the front lines, workers forcibly turned into soldiers and butchers as their numbers dwindled, in the end, his colony fell. Survivors would flee to neighboring moons, but Caedmon would stay.

Despite the devastation, Caedmon has never been happier to have the ruins all to himself. Though many structures were crumbled or half buried underground, it was no issue for him, he rebuilt the structures around his little home (which is even deeper underground) and kept whatever remained of his moon tidy. He'd preserve the literature he can find and continue his craft as if nothing had changed...

But then, a new colony would find themselves settling in the ruins, very small in numbers and visibly inexperienced, likely having left their own colonies with the goal to start their own. A village would be built where the most intact ruins stood, and seeing them move things around would bother Caedmon enough to suddenly and rudely intrude. He'd scold them, threaten them to not ruin the ruins, he's instruct them on the purpose of the structures they begun to occupy, what a colony should and shouldn't prioritize, and so on. Caedmon didn't care if his barking chased them off, but he'd be caught by surprise when it had the opposite effect. His commands and threatening stature would make the village see him as a potential leader. They would begin to seek him out for advice on how to build up their young colony, and in his insults and spitting, caedmon would begrudgingly guide them. Though he doesn't show it, he his happy to see the husk of his colony filled with new life, as if his colony never fell... with new occupants, he, of course, takes the opportunity to show off his art as well as condescendingly explaining certain mite literature and philosophies to the new village. Despite having a new crowd, they also think his art is dogshit.

As the only soldier and honorary leader (despite not ever agreeing to that role), he protects the village from raiders when the time comes.

He's still pretty antisocial, almost to a violent degree, so the village avoids bothering him if they want to keep their limbs... but sometimes the threat of losing a limb or two isn't enough for them to prance into his home to demand stuff from him as if he agreed to the responsibility of the village. It's a tense relationship, but a relationship regardless.

#asks #moon mite oc #caedmon #caedmon mite #moon mite lore

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punished-affection · 2 days ago

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reunions. — [thoma x gn!reader]

notes: cross-posted on quotev. first time writing thoma yup yup, i hope i do him some justice. the yandere-ness of this is actually very light you kinda gotta squint to even see it.

warnings: modern au, childhood friends trope. very vaguely implied stalking, sabotaging relationships, unhealthy co-dependency.

synopsis: you'd think that reuniting with your childhood best friend, you'd be able to make many memories together. but thoma's finding it hard to adjust to the fact that you have other friends than him now, and he's willing to do anything to make sure you stay by his side.

wc: 3k. it kinda got away from me lol

The sun was high in the sky as you sat in the airport, watching all the strangers pass by.

Mondstadt was a fairly popular tourist destination, so there were many people going about, some rushing to catch their flights while others were excitedly taking pictures of the architecture that the nation was so famous for.

But you were waiting for someone.

Your best friend from childhood, Thoma. Someone you hadn't seen since you were like... fifteen, at least. He had left for Inazuma when his parents sent him off to an academy there, something about bettering his education.

At the time, you'd been really upset. Thoma had been your only friend back then, and you did almost everything with him. The idea that he'd be gone made you feel sick to your stomach.

Thoma swore up and down that he'd call often, and that even though he'd be gone for a while, you'd still be best friends. It did little to comfort you, but he'd been true to his word, at least.

It's a little embarrassing thinking back on it now, to be honest. You were a little too dependent on Thoma when you were younger, considering he was your only friend and all.

Truthfully, the thought of seeing Thoma again after all these years made you nervous.

You're not really sure why, which only made you feel... well... more nervous.

In the time he'd been gone, you were able to make other friends. It made you feel guilty, in a way.

What if he thought you were abandoning him?

Thoughts like that were plaguing your mind, even though you knew they were nonsense. Thoma would never get upset at you for being friends with other people, so you're not sure why these thoughts kept popping into your mind.

"Hello? Anyone home?" A hand waves in your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. Looking up from where you sat, you come face-to-face with Thoma. He smiles when you meet his gaze, "There you are."

Excitement replaces your nerves as you throw your arms around Thoma, hugging him tightly, "Holy Barbatos, you're actually here!"

Thoma lets out a chuckle at your words, his arms wrapping around you in return. His hug was equally as tight, if not tighter. Like you'd disappear if he let you go. You can feel him bury his face in your hair, and you swear you hear him take a deep breath, but you brush it off. You were just imagining things, no doubt.

"Of course, silly," He says, resting his chin atop your head, "Nothing could keep me away from you."

The hug lasts a few moments longer before you finally pull away, and you miss the way Thoma's hand twitches, as if he wanted to grab you again. Instead, he just awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and grabs the handle of his suitcase.

You were eager, so many questions running through your mind that you wanted to ask him. He never really spoke much about life in Inazuma during your calls with him. Really, he only ever wanted to talk about you. You, your life, and whether or not you made any new friends while he was gone.

He was very curious about your friends.

But you didn't want to bombard him with questions so soon after his flight. For now, you'll just take him to your place so he can rest. You're sure you'll have time to ask him all the questions you want. After all, he's gonna be here for a month.

—

"Are you sure you want to sleep on the couch? The bed is a lot more–"

"Nah, it's okay," Thoma easily brushes off your concerns, hugging a pillow to his chest as he sits on the couch with his legs crossed. He would've been crashing at his parents' place, but they were both on vacation for the time he'd be in Mondstadt, and he had insisted on staying with you anyway.

His reassurance didn't do much to make you feel better, and you set some folded blankets and an extra pillow next to him as you frown a bit. Your parents had always taught you to never let a guest sleep on anything other than a bed, but here Thoma was. Refusing to take your bed.

Your train of thought was written all over your face, surely, because without missing a beat, Thoma spoke up, "But… if it bothers you that much, we could always share your bed."

There's this cheeky grin on his face when your head snaps up, and you look at him with wide eyes for a few moments. It's not a crazy idea, not at all. You used to share a bed with him all the time when you'd visit each other as kids, but… that was then, and this is now. It's a bit embarrassing sharing a bed with him, especially since it's been so long since you've seen him.

Even though he was your best friend, you felt awkward around him. He was acting as if he hadn't been gone for most of your life, as if you two hadn't grown up.

"Don't be stupid," You murmur, throwing the pillow at him. He didn't bother dodging it, letting it hit him square in the face as he laughed.

"I was kidding, relax," He hums, a teasing edge to his words as he grabs the pillow from where it landed on the floor and places it back atop the blankets, "But seriously, the couch is cool. I've slept on my friend's couch far too many times in uni, so this is like… normal, for me."

"…I thought you lived in the dorms," Your brows pinch together a bit, snatching some of the stray trash you had left on the coffee table that you forgot to clean last night. Thoma mentioning his friend had you jumping at the chance to learn about what Inazuma was like, and how life had been treating him.

He leans back on the couch, a small sigh escaping him as he watches you tidy up, his gaze following your every movement, "The first year, yeah. But I met some friends who were willing to let me crash at their place."

He never really hid the fact that he had friends other than you, but he also avoided speaking about them whenever you brought them up. You had a feeling he'd do the same thing, but…

"Yeah? What're their names?"

And the response you got was a vague hum and a small shrug. Exactly what you were expecting. Crossing your arms, you look at Thoma. He looks back, feigning innocence.

"Thoma, why don't you want to tell me about your friends?" There was no beating around the bush with this one. You've been trying to learn about his friends for years now, and he just refused to budge. You knew very vague things about them. They were siblings, rich, and 'okay people'.

He made an offhand comment one time about how they were pretty influential in Inazuma, but there was like… a never-ending stream of influential people in Inazuma, so that did not narrow your search down.

"It's not that I don't want you to know about them, it's just…" Thoma shrugs a bit, awkwardly squeezing the pillow he was holding, "They're not important when it comes to you. We've both been so busy lately, and I just want to focus on you."

The way he says those words, coupled with the small frown on his lips, evokes a feeling of guilt itching inside of you. You understood where he was coming from. And with work, paired with different time zones, you really haven't had much time to spend with him recently, so it's not like he was making that up, or anything.

There was this nagging feeling in the back of your mind, but Thoma was starting to look like a kicked puppy, and you could never be upset at him for long when he looked like that. With an exaggerated groan, you uncross your arms and make a vague gesture with your hands.

"Alright, fine, you win."

The kicked puppy expression on Thoma's face immediately disappeared, and a bright smile was in its place. The guilt you felt eased away at the sight of it, and you sighed.

Really, you shouldn't try arguing with him. You should just enjoy the time you spend with him before he goes back to Inazuma.

—

Your room was a mess, clothes thrown randomly on the floor, and books carelessly tossed on your bed as you dug through the drawers of your dresser, a feeling of frustration churning in your gut. You've been trying to find your phone for almost an hour now, with no success.

Normally, you wouldn't worry so much about not having your phone with you. It was bound to turn up later, but you had made plans to go out with some friends tonight, and you forgot the address of the restaurant that you all planned going to.

Thoma wasn't much help, either.

He was just watching you dig around your room, occasionally poking around himself when you'd shoot a look his way. He didn't seem as concerned as you.

"You could always just have dinner at home, y'know. With me." The blond comments after a moment, and it's enough to get you to halt your movements, looking up at him. Maybe it's just because you felt frustrated, but you couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed at his words.

"Thoma, I made plans to have dinner with my friends. It'd make me look like a dick if I just… bailed on them," You state this as if it were obvious. Thoma already knew about your plans because you told him about them yesterday morning during breakfast.

He's been in a bit of a mood since you mentioned your plans with your other friends, now that you think about it. It's already been a week since he's been here, and you've spent all your time with him that you had been neglecting your other friendships. You had promised that you'd spend time with your friend group tonight.

"Yeah, but…" Thoma trails off, his voice a quiet murmur. He's hesitating to speak, as if he thinks whatever he says might upset you, "…I'm only gonna be here for so long, and I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can before I have to leave…"

And there's that expression again.

His eyes refuse to meet yours, and he's got this frown on his face. His brows are pinched together, and he looks like he was genuinely upset at the mere idea of not being able to spend time with you. This familiar feeling of guilt entered your stomach as you looked at him, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

On one hand, you had already made plans with your other friends. You'd been excited to spend time with them, after hanging out with Thoma for the last couple of days. You didn't want to be a bad friend by bailing on them to spend time with someone else.

But on the other hand, Thoma was only going to be here for so long. In just three more weeks, he's heading back to Inazuma, and the distance between you two will go back to how it was when he first left. You didn't want to be a bad friend by not taking the chance to bond with him and make memories that you both missed out on when he left.

No matter what choice you made, you'd be a bad friend either way.

And when Thoma leaves, you'll still be able to spend time with your other friends… you won't be able to spend time with him…

And with your phone missing, it's not like you had much of a choice in the matter. With a defeated sigh, you close your dresser, "Yeah… yeah, I guess I'll just… tell them something came up, whenever I find my phone."

Thoma immediately brightens at your words, and there's this sense of déjà vu that you feel, but you brush it off as lingering frustration from losing your phone.

"Great! I'll cook dinner, and you can find a movie for us to watch."

And that's exactly how the night went.

At some point, you ended up falling asleep on the couch in the living room with Thoma, and when you woke up in the morning, you found your phone resting on the coffee table. You could've sworn that it hadn't been there when you were looking for it, but…

Maybe you just overlooked it?

—

Two weeks into Thoma's stay, your friends start to distance themselves from you. You're not sure why, but whenever you would message them, you'd never get a response. And on the rare chance you'd make plans with one of them, they'd bail on you shortly after. It left you feeling horrible, really.

Thoma was by your side to comfort you and keep you company, at least. But there was only a week left before he had to leave, and you were starting to get anxious.

All of your other friends refused to speak with you. Once Thoma leaves, you'll be pretty much alone. Like when you were younger…

"Hey," Thoma's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hand waving in your face. You blink, your gaze focusing on him. He looked worried, his hand hovering in front of your face like he wanted to reach out and check your temperature, "You okay?"

Your immediate reaction was to smile and brush off his concern, but you hesitated. Instead, you awkwardly look away from him to stare at your lap, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you debate whether or not to talk about the stuff that's been bothering you.

"…My friends aren't speaking with me," You start. Had you been looking at Thoma, you probably would've noticed the flicker of annoyance in his gaze when you mentioned your friends.

He's quiet, so you continue to speak, "I don't know what I did wrong, but they refuse to talk to me, and whenever I try calling them, they never answer. Hell, even some of my coworkers have been avoiding me. It's like they just… don't like me anymore, like…"

Making a vague sound in the back of your throat, you bury your face in your hands and let out a small huff, "And you're going to be leaving soon, and it has me feeling anxious because you're the only friend I have that's speaking to me." You murmur, "It's so dumb…"

Lifting your head from your hands, you look up at Thoma from where you were sitting with a small frown on your lips, "I just wish… you didn't have to go, I guess. I dunno. I'm being dumb, ignore me."

There were a few beats of silence before Thoma spoke up, "Why don't you just move to Inazuma? I've got a place of my own now, and I make enough money to take care of both of us until you can get a job there."

The offer probably shouldn't be that shocking, but you stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. It was such a casual offer, as if he wasn't asking you to uproot your entire life to move to an entirely different nation that you knew very little about. And yet… the offer was tempting.

You loved Mondstadt with all your heart; it was your home, after all. But the time that you spent with Thoma reminded you why he was your best friend. It felt natural being around him. As natural as breathing, really. It's just…

"That's… a big ask, Thoma…"

"But I'm not hearing a no."

Your lips part, and you wanted to say no, but something was stopping you. Instead, you mutter, "I'll think about it."

And Thoma smiles.

—

"And you're certain all of this is necessary, Thoma?" A voice asks over the phone, "You can't just ask them out like a normal person?"

Thoma paces around the living room of your home. It's the dead of night, and you had gone to bed hours ago. His friend's words had him rolling his eyes, and he shook his head a bit as he spoke, "They're too attached to their life here."

"Yes, but is ruining their reputation with their friends the right move? If they find out you've been harassing their loved ones, they'll hate you."

The thought that you could one day hate him had Thoma pausing in his steps. It was one of his biggest fears. His only fear, now that he thinks about it. His entire life, from the moment he first met you, he wanted nothing more than for you to look only at him. The feeling of you relying on him is like nothing he's ever felt before.

The years he spent away from you were hell. You grew out of your shell and made friends. You didn't need him. Listening to you happily chat away about all the friends you had made while he was stuck across the world was genuinely hell.

He wanted you to focus on him. Only him.

"…I'm not going back to Inazuma without them, Ayato." Thoma quietly says, "I'm not losing them to people who are so easily pushed away."

The line goes quiet for a few moments, but Thoma can hear Ayato sigh on the other end before speaking, "I'll see if I can get them transferred to an office here."

Thoma mutters a quiet thanks, and then the call ends. He sits down on the couch and leans back, staring up at the ceiling. He's done nothing wrong. It's all been for you. Everything he does is for you, with your best interests in mind.

And once he gets you to Inazuma, you'll forget all about your friends here in Mondstadt. He'll be the only one that matters.

#im throwing thoma into a bucket of acid #200k words slowburn dead dove do not eat major character death #but it's romantic in context #sorry i just dont really like how this came out </3 #yandere thoma x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #soft yandere x reader #soft yandere #yandere thoma x you #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact x you #yandere x you #soft yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere thoma #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact

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lemongogo · 10 months ago

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college … wasted on the youth (me)

#didnt help that 2/4 yrs was covid telezoom but man.. MANNN #forgetting how impossible it is to pursue rhe degree plan u actually want (advising hell) i feel like . theres just #so many diff things i want to learn now Knowing that im more solidified in my interests and who i am and what i would be interested in doing #and like.😭RGAAAAAQH TEARING MYHAIR OUTTT every other week i have a night where im sititng there like damn i couldve been sm1 completely dif #dgmw i still rly enjoy some of the upper div classes i Did take but what if i took x and liked it more or minored in y and it led me to z #bc i do feel rly set in where i am rn which . i DO ! like it but im never gna be in that environment where u have the flexibility to explore #ykwim . i wish i had taken physics and calc srsly . i always thought i hated that shit but i like it. i like it quite a lot actually😟#or more geology .. urrghh.. sprinkle in sme extra art history . no bc thats what actu pissed me off ab school #i rmbr wanting to dual major and they straight up told me no i cant . but then i was like maybe an arts major bio minor when i wanted to do #science illustration but sry we dont offer bio minor . ok bio major arh or studio art minor . no sry not enough open spots we rly only #reserve it for when we have extra openings post admission❤️#and then even late into sophomore year u would still be last in registration so all the cool classes would be closed #and then bc of covid half that shit was cancelled bc they couldnt transfer labs online (rip comparative vertebrate anatomy)#and then by senior yr an additional collection of classes were unavailable bc u dont have the prereqs bc the prereqs were cancelled during #covid and u dont have enough semesters left to actually take it . like it was gen such an awful experience so ik why i couldnt ever do what #i wanted but .😭 AND LIKE the classes i DID enjoy like genomics or molecular genetics were closed by registration and i had to email and beg #for access . thts crazy .literally crazy .#anyways . i think i want 2 start reading textbooks bc i think thats the closest ill get LMAOO #i remember seeing my coworker read a textbook for fun one time and idk why i just didnt understand why bc it seemed so dry but i Get it now #like yeah .. u knew what was up ..#sad too that like . i could theoretically audit a course but i Work..during the day .. so sad . so sad #guys wht if i just said yes to grad school (<the devil talking.dont agree)

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raisy · 4 months ago

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just had a meeting with my advisor and i might be able to graduate next semester?!

#i thought i would have too many courses left to take that i would only be able to graduate next year #IM SO HAPPYYYY #i’m gonna have to take like 6 classes next semester but idgaf cause they’re all classes i would actually enjoy #sim.txt

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mina-org · 5 months ago

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part one - part two (youre here) - part three - part four - part five- six

warning for smut, 141 are panty sniffers! and more yanderery than the last! I have another part written but I just felt like was already dragged a lil so lmk if you want the next part! also not edited bc im lazy

“The birds just not fuckin’ into ya johnny. She never took this long to respond to me.” Simon smirks, truthfully he didn’t really remember but he was fucked off with this entire thing, not only was Johnny after his bird but texting you became a group sport, even the double text.

Simon seethes, usually you would've crawled back to him by now, you'd get drunk and call him sobbing from whatever pub you were at and you'd owe him, rinse and repeat.

At least if you were into Johnny he'd know what you were doing but now your absence started to eat at him, he just wondered your were like a deer fresh out the womb, learning to walk, how would you survive when Simon wasn't there to pick up your the pieces when you inevitably fell apart again.

simon couldnt take them fawning over you anymore so he returned to his bedroom, he had a little secret that he had to keep from those closest to him, your underwear. A collection really.

to start with, they were just tucked in his bag for when he was deployed, he’d push a pair around his cock, satin felt nice but the cream pair with little berries on? they were too cute and so you. He’d pump his cock until they were stick with his cum.

then when he was home more often and you were fucked too dumb to bounce on his cock, neglecting him after hes giving you so many? he'll remember that for next time. and really left him no choice but to scout out your discarded panties, maybe a fresh pair if you packed them, and he'd finish himself off before tugging them up your legs, his cum from earlier still leaking out your pretty pussy. something about you walking home in shame, carrying him with you, a sense of ownership simon loved.

now these panties were all he had, and he wasn't gonna share them. maybe with Johnny, if he was good.

after a week it just wasnt doing it for him anymore, he needed to see his girl but all his texts weren't sending:( and he hadn't seen you at the gym or the pilates class you spent so much money on. almost like your little temper tantrum was serious this time.

okay so it took simon a week or two to turn up begging, well demanding your forgiveness.

or he would've, if you answered the fucking door? after coming over and almost fighting your door guy a few times, he gets the hint, stealth is wealth and all that.

now here he is, staring at you through binoculars, on the rooftop opposite your building, like he's gathering intel or some shit. originally he was gonna keep this to himself, threes a crowd after all but it was chilly on the rooftop and simon is all about efficiency and your safety of course!

thing is, that pesky door man knows who simon is, and its doubtful a stick on moustache and boiler suit is gonna convince him that simon is also the buildings engineer!

through this process they've found out your building has a lot of security issues, nobody even thought about cyber security so when gaz sends out an email with a list of apartment numbers and a time, stating some maintenance was needed, no one bats an eye.

and of course you dont want any awkward conversations, like offering them tea or coffee 50 times while they try to focus but they'd think you rude if you dont and you can't ignore them, thats rude too. so you have to go out and stay out.

so you go shopping, you've been needing more underwear anyway!

soon enough John and gaz are in your apartment, putting up hidden cameras, slipping trackers into the linings of your most worn clothes, rifling through your belongings and testing out your perfume, trying to figure out which one you use daily from the memories of your scent lingering on simon and around the flat.

however gold is struck when they come across your laundry basket! feral is the best fitting word, Johnny will froth at the mouth once they tell him and of course share the bounty of their conquest.

taglist: @skeletonsucker @supernova2205 @wh0re4-alexademi @grr457

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vrystalius · 9 months ago

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Not saying “I love you” to the hashira

How would the hashira react to you not saying “I love you” back to them?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

♡—Him not saying “I love you” back…

Sanemi not saying “I love you” back is extremely rare. It’s usually the case that the wind hashira is too distracted by something and instead of reincorporating your affection, he might mumble “Yeah, yeah” or a simple “Me too” under his breath, thinking he did say those three magic words properly, only noticing that he didn’t when he noticed that you were being pouty once he did manage to find time to solely focus on you.

Sometimes, when you two lay in bed together, you mumble a quiet “love you”. As you close your eyes and think that your husband is already deeply asleep, you hear Sanemi sleepily respond instinctively to your affirmation.

“Don’t let the rice eat you.”

At least he’s being concerned for your safety even in his dreams.

⁎⁺˳✧༚

♡—You not saying “I love you” back…

It would actually make him really sad. Sanemi strongly believes that he probably did something to upset you, what other reason could be there for you not to reincorporate his words?

He’d silently glance at you every now and then throughout the whole day, trying to analyse your body language to find out if you’re upset at him. Sanemi would hover near you, almost like a kicked-puppy, still waiting on you to give him love, despite the situation of you not reincorporating those words was early in the morning and with that several hours ago. He needs you to reassure him, or else no missions will be finished that day.

“Hey, you forgot something.” He’d try to remind you, but you not knowing what he meant you just cock your head in slight confusion. Sanemi ran his fingers through his hair and sighed quietly. “Nevermind. Whatever.”

Kyojuro Rengoku

♡—Him not saying “I love you” back…

Impossible! Either you didn’t hear him over his mouth being stuffed with sweet potato fries, or he overthought the perfect moment on when to say his favourite three words to the point where he forgets to say them at all. After missing the perfect moment and not saying “I love you, Kyojuro’ll just give you a simple compliment or a wonky yet bright smile, trying to convey his love for you in that way.

If he sees you get confused or even sad about how he is not reincorporating your love, he’ll quickly almost yell the words out, not wanting to upset you.

“I love you! I promise I do!”

⁎⁺˳✧༚

♡—You not saying “I love you” back…

Kyojuro’s first instinct would be to think that you are just too busy or preoccupied to reply to him, especially with you having to run so many errands today. After a couple hours pass where you spend your time elsewhere, he’d briefly worry if there is something that is bothering you, but that thought quickly faded away since your husband is sure that you’ll share whatever troubles you when the time is right and you feel comfortable enough.

So, once he sees you again, Kyojuro’ll continue to give you affection and reassurance, trying to make you feel loved without words by giving you light pecks on your cheek, holding your hand while you two walked or taking you out on a small, unplanned date. He’ll tell you that he loves you again, watching you expectantly with big eyes until you finally utter the words that make his heart melt every time.

“I love you, my firefly!” He had a big grin on his face while those words left his mouth, now awaiting for your reaction. Chuckling quietly, you responded with a small kiss on his cheek. Kyojuro’s face briefly turned into a pout, wanting to hear you say it back. It was just too adorable to tease him like this…

Gyomei Himejima

♡—Him not saying “I love you” back…

The reason Gyomei barely says “I love you” is that he feels that actions speak louder, and besides, you already know that he loves you more than any words can ever express. Although, if you tell him that you love him, he will of course respond by reassuring you with a soft smile and leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

⁎⁺˳✧༚

♡—You not saying “I love you” back

If you don’t reincorporate his affirmation, Gyomei wouldn’t mind at all. Just like he does, you express your love for him in other ways: touching him in any way, kisses, small gifts or your presence alone is reassuring him of your love. Yet, it is nice to hear it every once in a while. If you ignore his “I love you” in order to tease him or whatever other reason, he grows very quiet and thoughtful. He wonders if you have any troubles or if he hurt you in any way, sitting down in a quiet area to reflect on all his actions and behaviours over the past weeks, praying quietly.

Your husband also will ask you outright if you are upset at him after pondering for a while. If you tell him no, Gyomei will grow even more worried. Perhaps you were using sarcasm? Surely something must’ve moved you to not respond to his affections, right?

“I love you, my light.” Your husband calls out to you, pulling your attention away from whatever you were doing, responding with a simple “Okay.” You watched as his whole face morphed into one of worry, him slowly retreating back into the gardens to continue to self-reflect and pray.

Giyu Tomioka

♡—Him not saying “I love you” back…

It happens on accident sometimes, Giyu either forgets or is too nervous to say it back. He’s not quite used to the idea of being loved and cherished by someone he loves so much, so his brain temporarily halts when you tell him that you love him. Sometimes, he gives you a nasty look on accident as a response, as if silently judging you for choosing someone like him to date and spend your time with. He hasn’t quite processed everything yet, so please forgive him when he either doesn’t respond or mumbled a very quiet “love you too”

⁎⁺˳✧༚

♡—You not saying “I love you” back…

His heart is shattered, thoughts about you loosing interest in him or not loving him anymore now running in circles over and over in his mind. Those three simple words can do so much with a person’s mind, can’t they? Giyu grows immediately extremely quiet, pulling away from you and heading off to any available mission right now or going to train, trying to give you space. He tries to concentrate on training or the missions but he keeps thinking about you not saying that you love him back. Giyu feels so nervous and nauseous about coming back home, thinking you are not there to greet him and gone forever, or suggesting to break up. He may be overreacting, but he just can’t help it!

Once the water hashira walks through the front door of your shared estate, carefully looking around for your presence, he spotted you in the bedroom. Giyu brought all the courage he had together for this: “I love you.” You lifted your gaze and glanced at him, giving your lover a small smile. “Love you too.”

Oh! His shoulders visibly sagged, tension leaving his body. He gave you an awkward nod before leaving. So his overthinking was all for nothing.

💠

This was inspired by this post (from the Genshin fandom) and I wanted to write my own kny version of it, even if it’s not as long or detailed as the original XD

Anyways, I somehow got sick again and wrote this during the periods I did not feel nauseous but I hope you all enjoyed this anyway <3

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

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retiredteabag · 9 months ago

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Wishful Thinking - chapter one

arranged marriage with Nanami with a people-pleasing reader

next part - series masterlist

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Nanami Kento was not in a sorcerer clan. In fact, he was the only sorcerer in his family. You had met him only once before you had been informed of the engagement, and in that brief interaction you had decided you knew exactly what type of man he was.

"It's a pain." had been his harsh words. Vitriol clear as day in his tone.

When asked what he felt about being a sorcerer his response had been that it was…a pain? Being the reserved individual he was, he didn't take the time to elaborate despite the questions of the sorcerers surrounding him.

You had rolled your eyes in that moment. Clearly, he had no sense of responsibility. No duty. I suppose that's what it means to not be in a clan. You had thought. He’s got no idea how good he has it.

And even though you chalked his image up in your mind as an irresponsible and pretentious git. The memory of his brutal gaze stuck in your mind. You knew deep down that it was simply jealousy.

Sorcery was a pain, there had been many instances where you wished you could put it aside and leave this world, but that was simply not what you were born for.

All those months ago, you had left the meeting with the Jujutsu higher-ups resentful. How lucky that man in the suit was, to not have an obligation to fulfill exactly what the clan heads asked of him. How free he must feel.

But, oh, how wrong you had been.

You had known your marriage was impending, having had meetings with your father and his subordinates on several occasions to discuss the offers from other clans.

Offers for your hand.

Offers for the rest of your miserable life, for your body, for your fertility, offers to impregnate you, and nothing much else.

You had been picky, of course, having known all your life this was forthcoming you were expecting to not have to rely on Zenin blood to uphold the family name.

Your father was no kind man but if there was one thing he was, it was prideful. If even his measly daughter could brush aside an important clan born man, he too could wait for a finer offer to come.

Back then, you had no idea that would lead to this.

You stood before a full-length mirror. Your dress came below your ankle, the neckline nothing short of chic modesty.

By all accounts and by the people serving you, you were expected to be prepared.

Your wedding was nothing special, a formality, nothing more. Clans from across Japan were here to see the ceremony. Still, your heart pounded as you gulped at your reflection. A shakily deep breath brought you little comfort as you squeezed your hand into a fist.

You knew little of the man you were to marry.

Here was what you had:

He was NOT a Zenin. Hallelujah.

He was not from any clan. (This had come as a shock to you, your father having only explored offers from fellow clan heads, you had no idea how this arrangement was to be made until Gakuganji, the principal of your school, Kyoto Jujutsu High, and one of the more powerfully cruel higher-ups, had arrived at your families estate, enlisting a "fine candidate" for your immanent marriage. He had seemed certain. Immovable.)

And last of the information you had, he was seemingly strong enough for your father to deem his ability to produce "quality children" acceptable. He was a grade 1 sorcerer, nothing to scoff at.

You knew your father would not have accepted the offer of a man without heritage if the higher-up’s had not endorsed it. Even now you wondered why they were so keen on this matrimony.

And that was all you had.

"You look beautiful." A maid from the estate was arranging your hair, she moved quickly, with a soft hand. You hardly noticed her. "I've heard he is a very gentle man," She starts up again after your eyes narrowed in the reflection of the mirror, "if that's any consolation." The women ends in a whisper.

You huff out a breath, "Thank you."

That's what they all say.

You wonder if she was lying to you. This morning you had heard your mother crying in your bedroom after you had made up your sheets for the last time. It made you sad, knowing she was afraid for you.

Afraid you would turn out like her.

You swallow with some effort and look up to the maid at your side, she smiled at you.

"It looks lovely." You say, assuming she wanted praise.

She lays a hand on your shoulder and her smile crinkles in a funny way, "He is very handsome." Her eyebrows tilt in a telling fashion, she almost giggles.

Great.

What were you to say to that?

"I... see." You look at the floor and turn away from your reflection. All that was left was for your father to arrive. To take your hand in an uncomfortably tight grip and lead you down the aisle to the man that was decided to be the father of your children.

"Is there anything you would like, before I leave you? It won't be long now..." The maid tries to meet your gaze so you look up to her face once more.

"No, there's nothing, thank you for helping me." You try to smile at her but your throat hurts from the brief amount of talking you have already done.

The women nods her head, she turns to go but hesitates at the door, for a moment you think she is going to turn and speak to you, to say something as a comfort perhaps, but just as her body holts to grip the door, the hinges swing away and your father steps in.

"Move out of my way. Move! Out!” Your father shoves at the women who had been by the threshold and she escapes out the door with a hushed apology and not a glance at yourself.

You stand before him. Resolved to not shutter in these moments. Neither of you speak until he swings his arms and says,

"Well, are you coming?"

You almost want to laugh. How you wish you could look up at the domineering man and say, no I don't think I am, but you knew better, and although he extends no arm to you, you take the few steps to his presence and heave a sign.

"Stand up straight. Serve us well."

You knew those would be all the words you heard from him tonight, as unhappy as you were to be married to a strange man, you felt pleased to know you would no longer be living in your clans estate, just as you knew your father would be glad to be rid of you.

Your fathers movements seemed all too fast. His steps, his reaching for your arm, his pulling you out the door and into the hall.

You felt as if time was slowing but those around you weren't effected. Your father huffed angrily, tugging you along. This was happening too fast. You didn't want this. You weren't ready.

You wiped the sweat from your palms over the satin dress hanging on your waist. The collar that once seemed elegant was starting to choke you. The door to the ceremony was drawing closer, you could hear music but it was almost as if the closer you came, the foggier it sounded.

Echos of your mother’s cries this morning permeated your brain. You knew you were asking for too much. But in those last moments before your autonomy would be taken from you, you had only one wish.

That the maid was right. That the man at the alter would truly be a gentle creature...would be tender....would be mild?

The doors were swinging open. The light was bright, but you did not dare to raise a hand to block its assault. You walked slowly, arm tightly locked in your fathers grasp. You noticed the clan leaders in the audience, but as your eyes tried to take in the man at the front of the room, you stuttered in your steps.

Hoping your father would take no notice, you tried to recall how you knew the man who was meeting your eye.

You began to put together who this man was, having met him before, though you hadn't been introduced. That one interaction had showed you he would not have been a man you would want to live the rest of your days with. He had seemed unhappy in those moment.

Fear shot through you.

An unhappy husband was more dangerous than any curse you had faced.

Having stared long enough, you drop your gaze from his own piercing one. You almost want to smile, but you're unable to.

Maybe he isn't as free as you thought he was. Poor him.

You wonder how he even managed to get in this predicament as the music began to come to its end. You're stepping up onto the platform that your future husband stood upon, your ankle wobbles in the heels that were chosen for you.

In a flash you see his arm reach out for you but you’re only confused, shrinking back a bit father from him.

You look to meet his gaze once more. He's barely a few breaths from you. His eyes seem focused on your face.

The officiant is talking but you cannot hear him.

You realize one of two things in this particular moment, one, the maid was right about something, this man was remarkably handsome. And second, you realize you're feeling quite faint.

The dress had not been so hot before you were standing before this man in front of all these people under the shine of all these lights. You swallow, dig your nails into your palms, the officiant seems to be speaking to the man before you and it isn't long before your husband speaks out a low, "I do."

You feel as though you must pay attention, your bit is coming up now and you would hate to embarrass your family, but you can hardly hear the man over the pounding in your ears. A prick of sweat starts to form on the back of your neck.

There is a pause in the mans speech, he looks at you intently, after a moment he raises a brow.

Oh, right. "I do." You say.

You look anywhere but your husband. Knowing you weren't expected to kiss, you try to take in some more air. This was it.

The officiant hands something to the man before you.

He's so tall. The suit he is wearing seems to fit him perfectly, and you can’t help wondering who helped him here today if he had no clan members.

His arm is suddenly in front of you, palm up. It takes you but a moment to know what he is asking for. You brace yourself and set your hand within his own.

He places his other hand onto yours for a moment, engulfing your hand in his grasp. You are shaking, you know you are, but with everything going on in this very moment, you are hoping he won't notice.

A ring is being slipped onto your finger. Good, now your turn.

He hands you his own, a plain ring of gold.

Don't drop it. Do not drop it. Don't-

You miss his ring finger once before finally sliding it on. You hope no one noticed. You pull your hand free of his first and look to your father in the crowd.

This was it, right?

There was an echo of the efficient, "I now pronounce you husband and wife", and the group before you claps in respect.

The man who you had just married is bending down to your ear, but he doesn't say anything. You look him from your peripheral vision, and he is tilting his head down the aisle a bit.

Ah, yes. Your hand is in his own as you go back down where you just came. Your life is forever changed now.

So much lay before you, so much for you to worry about, but the one thing on your mind in this moment is how the grip of your husbands hand is infinitely more pleasant than the aggressive clasp your father had on you.

You hope against hope, that maybe, you would never feel the harsh grip of a man again.

But that was too wishful, was it not?

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sunniques · 1 year ago

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— 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ?

➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: the story of how your stepbrother’s girlfriend realizes her boyfriend has never really been hers.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, possessiveness, heeseung can lift reader, cucking kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f), oral sex (f), fingering, face sitting, unprotected sex, creampies

➺ WC: 4.6k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.

A lot of people find your relationship with your stepbrother cute. How could they not? He’s always so doting and protective like a real brother would be. In spite of being only slightly older, Heeseung takes on a very important role in your life. He constantly goes out of his way to take care of you, making sure you have anything you could possibly need.

Heeseung’s girlfriend never thought too much about the relationship between you two. It was natural that he took the naive college freshman under his wing and constantly had you by his side. Mina found it endearing, actually. The way he worried about you like a mother hen who wasn’t ready for her young chick to go into the world alone is adorable and a good sign. After dating so many inconsiderate losers, she thinks she’s finally chosen the right guy.

But somewhere along the way, Mina starts to grow tired of it. Time has gone by, and you’re no longer a naive freshman who can’t get around without her boyfriend’s help. Of course family is important, but it’s not like you’re entirely helpless. And yet, that’s exactly the way Heeseung acts. He’s always ready to drop everything when you need him. On several humiliating occasions, he’s even left her half naked on his bed just to go to you because you bought something you couldn’t figure out how to put together, or because you wanted to hang out with him.

It’s hard for Mina to admit that she’s a little jealous. Especially because it all seems so ridiculous. There’s no way her boyfriend actually wants you like that. But as time goes on, she thinks that maybe she’s not all that crazy. Especially with the affectionate way her boyfriend looks at you. Despite all this, Mina doesn’t say anything. At least, not until Heeseung starts to bring you along to what were meant to be dates.

“Babe, why do you keep bringing your stepsister? i thought we were going on a date?” It’s hard for her to not sound bitter and annoyed.

“Her roommate is going to visit her parents, and I don’t want Y/N to be alone.” His tone is kind and gentle like always, but it’s also firm and leaves no room for arguments.

What’s worse is that Mina can’t bring herself to hate or blame you. In a way, she understands why her boyfriend is always so concerned about you. You’re so nice and trusting that it would be way too easy for someone to take advantage of that. There’s also the fact that you’ve been more than willing to let them have some alone time, but Heeseung never lets you leave.

It’s all so strange and frustrating that Mina feels like she has to take matters into her own hands. So she does.

The key to Heeseung letting you go is getting you a boyfriend—or at least getting you to start dating. It’s easy enough to find a guy who’s interested in you. That’s never been a problem for you, and all it takes is her showing your picture to the cute guy in her communications class for her plan to fall into place. As luck would have it, you’re also into meeting the guy and going out with him.

Little did Mina know, setting you up with him would be a mistake that would cost her everything.

On the night you’re meant to meet up with her classmate, Mina excitedly goes to her boyfriend’s apartment. It’s been a long time since she got to be alone with Heeseung, and she was going to make the most of it.

She’s dressed in tiny tank top and a cute little skirt that Heeseung loves—it barely hides the lingerie she’s wearing underneath. Mina quietly lets herself into her boyfriend’s apartment using her spare key. Quietly, she tiptoes to his room only to find the door wide open. What she doesn’t expect is to find you sitting on his the edge of bed while Heeseung kneels in front of you.

Mina feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on her as his pretty hands rub your soft thighs. You look incredible, clad in a cute little dress with your makeup and hair done to perfection. It’s a mistake for Mina to keep watching, but she can’t find her voice at the moment.

“Seungie, what’s wrong?”

God, Mina hates that you call him that. Mostly because she can tell how much Heeseung likes it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out to meet some guy?” Heeseung sounds almost venomous, but it’s like you don’t hear it. “Who is he? How’d you meet him?”

You tilt your head, pretty lips pulled down in a confused frown. “Didn’t Mina tell you? She set me up with a guy from her class. He’s really cute!”

A chill goes down Mina’s spine. She can see Heeseung’s back tense when you tell him how your date came to be. The air feels almost murderous as he gently squeezes your thighs.

It kills Heeseung that he was almost too late in stopping you from meeting some strange guy in the pretty little dress you have on. He softly rubs your thighs, eyes simmering with anger and desire he doesn’t care to hide. Not anymore.

“Oh, angel.” Your stepbrother murmurs, hands slowly trailing up to your thighs. “You know you’re my favorite girl, right?”

An unsuspecting smile graces your lips. “Yeah. And you’re my favorite guy.”

Heeseung hums in satisfaction as his fingers ghost the edges of your dress. He watches your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t say anything. As always, you have blind trust in your stepbrother. That’s all the indication he needs to get up and push you down on his bed. Heeseung hovers over you, loving how you’re staring up at him with sparkling, wide eyes. He swoops down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Your heart is racing in your chest as Heeseung forces his tongue into your mouth. Despite the initial shock, you quickly melt into the kiss. He swallows your moans, pulling you closer as he deepens the messy kiss. You mewl into his mouth, carding your fingers through his hair with desire you had never realized you had for him.

Meanwhile, Mina can only watch as her boyfriend kisses you with a passion that he clearly never felt for her. It feels like her heart is ripping in half as Heeseung begins to undress you. Tears well up in her eyes when he groans at the sight of the lingerie adorning your body. Mina can see how hard he is from where she’s standing, and the desire in his eyes is very different from the way he looks at her.

“Can’t believe you got all pretty for some other boy.” Heeseung spits as he starts to undress. “Were planning on letting him fuck you?”

You shake your head and go to speak, but you can’t when Heeseung roughly pulls off your lingerie then his own underwear. His cock is thick and big, possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s twitching and leaking as he looks at you with his dark eyes.

“W-We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whine as Heeseung shoves your thighs to your stomach and licks a broad stripe up your wet pussy.

Your stepbrother groans at your sweet taste, thrusting his tongue into your dripping hole. He laps up the juices leaking out of your slit, circling his tongue on your clit for good measure. The noise you let out is downright pornographic and pure music to Heeseung’s ears.

“Seungie!” You keen as you spread your legs and tangle your hands in his messy hair. “I– Fuck!”

Heeseung pulls back with a wet slurp to spread your cunt open with his big hands. “God. You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, angel. Just had to taste it.”

Each one of his words is like a dagger to Mina’s heart and confidence. Wet tears trickle down her face, but she doesn’t say anything as you pull on her boyfriend’s hair. Heeseung only moans and dives back into your slick cunt. He greedily laps up everything that drips out of you, sucking and kissing your clit.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Hee.” You repeat through a needy mewl, making no attempt to stop him. In fact, you buck your pussy into his mouth as he sucks on your sensitive bud.

“Shh, angel.” Heeseung shushes as he flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. “Just relax and let me eat you out. Been wanting to do this for so long.”

Mina swallows thickly, the hurt slowly being replaced by something else. Her eyes grow bigger when she realizes which feeling is taking over. She shifts slightly, feeling a familiar wetness begin to pool in her panties. Mina feels sick that the sight of her boyfriend cheating on her can turn her on, and she thinks that she should leave right now and never return.

But she stays.

Mina licks her lips and continues to watch. Even she can’t help but think how hot you look, whimpering and writhing as Heeseung pushes your thighs apart so he can bury his face deeper in your pussy. He flicks his tongue, slowly descending until he’s lapping at your hole, slowly fucking the wet muscle in and out. Your eyes roll back as your stepbrother eats your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

The sounds coming from your pussy and the way Heeseung messily eats you out has Mina’s own cunt clenching with need. She can feel her underwear start to stick to her cunt as she watches her boyfriend lap up your arousal like a starved man. Mina bites her lip, feeling sick and twisted for being turned on by your pretty moans.

Heeseung suddenly pulls away, but not before he slaps your thigh playfully. He goes to lay on his back all while wearing a filthy smirk. “Sit on my face.”

You bite your lip as a hot flash of arousal pulses through your body. Both your and Mina’s cunts throb at the suggestion. Heeseung sees your hesitation, but doesn’t back down.

“C’mon, baby. Be a good little stepsister and ride my fucking face.” He growls out with dark eyes.

With your pussy dripping, you crawl over to him and kneel over his face. Mina watches with heated eyes as you slowly lower your cunt on her boyfriend’s face. The heat in her stomach grows when she hears Heeseung groan in satisfaction.

“That’s it. I want your pretty pussy suffocating me.”

With that, your stepbrother grabs your hips and pulls your cunt down onto his face with a groan. Mewling quietly, you rub your cunt all over his mouth. Every time he moans or grunts, it sends little vibrations through your pussy. The delicious feeling has you grinding down on his tongue as you chase that feeling. Heeseung eagerly fucks his wet muscle into your hot cunt, already addicted to your sweet taste.

Mina swallows thickly when he sees Heeseung thrusting into the air as he eats you out. His cock is leaking and throbbing with need. Fuck. How she’d like to go and lick all that up, to have him fuck her mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. Mina rubs her thighs to soothe the growing ache in her pussy as she watches you ride Heeseung’s face.

Your eyes roll back when your stepbrother slaps your ass. A loud squeal spills from your lips as Heeseung keeps fucking his tongue up into your cunt. He grabs your ass and kneads it roughly. With one last groan and flick of his tongue, he sits up and takes you with him. The effortless display of strength turns both women on, one containing her moan while the other cries out as she’s pressed back into the mattress.

“Such a sweet little cunt.” Heeseung moans as he buries his face back into your dripping cunt. “Shit, Y/N. You’re fucking soaked down here.”

“Heeseung!” You cry out as he pries your thighs further apart. Your stepbrother shakes his head to grind his tongue against your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck, you have the hottest little pussy.” Heeseung lifts his head with a groan, lips shiny with your arousal. “Missed eating some good pussy. It’s been so long.”

Mina feels pathetic that her cunt throbs at his degrading words. She bites her lip, hands trailing up her thigh and to her soaked underwear. It’s so filthy and humiliating, but the ache in her pussy is getting to be too much. She slowly rubs circles on her covered cunt as she keeps watching her boyfriend cheat on her.

“Fuck, Seungie.” You mewl desperately. “S-Shouldn’t like having your face buried in my cunt.”

Heeseung smirks into your wetness. He gently circles his tongue on your clit, kissing it tenderly before he gently starts to nip at it with his teeth. Mina shoves her panties aside when you moan out in pleasure. Now she’s furiously rubbing at her bare pussy, wanting to see you cum on her boyfriend’s face.

“But you do, baby. You like me fucking you with my tongue, and I fucking love eating this sweet little pussy.”

Your hips buck up at the words, grinding your cunt against his mouth as you moan for him. Juices drip out of you lewdly, leaking down to your ass and onto Heeseung’s sheets. Your head is swimming with pleasure, and you have to remember that this is all so very wrong.

“You like that?” Heeseung teases you, loving how you’ve turned into putty in his hands. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you like your stepbrother telling you how much he loves tasting your juicy cunt?”

Your back arches when Heeseung sucks your puffy bud into his mouth. “God—yes! Feels so fucking good, Hee! Love having your mouth on my pussy.”

Heeseung growls, the vibrations making your cunt throb as he sucks and licks your swollen clit. Eager to have you cum on his tongue, he slips two fingers into your fluttering hole. Mina follows in suit, unable to take her eyes off the erotic sight of you getting ate out and fingered. Fuck. This was better than any porn she had ever watched. Her hand is dripping with her own arousal, and she can’t even feel disgusted anymore that she’s so turned on by the entire situation.

“Mmmh, shit, Hee.” You whine as the tips of his fingers brush against the gummy spot inside you. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Do it, baby. Cream all over my tongue.” He purrs in delight. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Heeseung flattens his tongue on your clit while his fingers grind into the spongy spot in your cunt. Your back arches off the bed, orgasm whiting out your thoughts as you cum around his long fingers.

Mina has to cover her mouth as Heeseung moans along with you. By now she’s shoved her fingers into her sopping pussy, the squelching sound is drowned out from the sounds coming from your own pussy. The filthy sight is driving her wild, and she’s so delirious with arousal that she wishes Heeseung would just fuck you already.

“You’re amazing, angel.” Your stepbrother praises with his fingers still buried knuckle deep in your pussy as he softly strokes your velvety walls. “So soft and wet. It makes me want to shove my dick into your tight little hole.”

Heeseung slowly pulls his fingers out of you, and you can only watched with a lidded gaze as he moves his body between your thighs. His cock is twitching and leaking as he grabs the base. He smacks his cock down on your slippery pussy, dragging his drooling tip up and down your slit slowly. Mina has to press her hand into her mouth harder to stifle her filthy moans. The sight of her boyfriend pressing his drooling cockhead into your soaking pussy is so hot she might just cum all over her fingers.

“S-Seungie—fuck. We shouldn’t.” You whimper as he leans forward and braces his arms by your head.

You and Mina both know you don’t really mean your words. It’s clear that you want your stepbrother to split you open on his big cock. That becomes obvious when you don’t try to stop him as he shoves his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out completely, balls pressing against your ass. Shuddering with pleasure, you scratch your nails up his arms as you sink into the bed.

“Pretty pussy was meant to take my cock.” Heeseung growls, already drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. “Fuck. I know it’s wrong, baby, but I just couldn’t help myself. Your hot little cunt was just begging for my dick. Doesn’t it feel all nice and full having your pussy stuffed with your stepbrother’s big cock?"

Mina starts fucking herself harder when you nod desperately. Your hands go to tangle in his hair as you grind your hips up to meet his thrusts. “Yes! Fuck! Love my stepbrother’s cock stretching me open! Feels so fucking good, Hee!”

Mina knows better than anyone how good you must feel. Although, she imagines you feel must better than she ever did because from the way Heeseung’s fucking you, she can tell he’s doing it with much more enthusiasm and passion. Even his moans are more guttural and full of more pleasure than she’d ever heard. They’re deep as he pulls out until just his tip is spearing you open. Then, he pushes forward, thrusting his cock deep into your fluttering walls.

“That’s it. Tell me how good it feels.” Heeseung leans down, lips brushing against yours. “Don’t be shy, angel. Let me know how much you like this cock fucking you.”

You gasp wantonly and pull him down further to press your lips together. He groans and licks into your mouth easily, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock thrusts deep into your hot, wet cunt. Your hips buck up to meet his, loving how his dick rams into your sweet spot over and over until your sight is painted with pretty little stars.

“Fucking love it, Hee.” You moan between sloppy kisses. “God—I love your cock!”

The coil in Mina’s stomach is close to snapping. By now, her juices are dripping down to her wrist. Luckily, the lewd squelching and sound of skin slapping together drown out any noise she’s making. Heeseung is fucking you so hard and good that she can smell the musky scent of sex from where she’s standing. The erotic aroma turns her on even more, pussy clamping down on her fingers in desperate need of release.

“Tight little pussy feels so good.” Heeseung moans out between the quick pecks he’s giving you. “God, I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”

Your heart races as Mina’s breaks all over again. It hurts, but somehow that just turns her on even more. She keeps fingering herself as tears pool in her eyes.

With a low moan, your pussy clamps down on Heeseung’s dick tightly as you go to eagerly kiss him. A soft I love you, too goes unnoticed by Mina, but not by your stepbrother. He groans into your mouth, cock throbbing inside you.

“Mmmh.” Heeseung hums against your lips before he trails wet kisses down your neck. “I love my gorgeous girl. That’s why this feels so good. Even your tight little pussy knows how much I love you.”

His gorgeous girl? Mina thinks deliriously, orgasm dangerously close. It’s something he never referred to her as.

You cry out loudly when Heeseung bites your neck and sucks the skin into his mouth. His hips rock against yours, balls smacking against your ass as his pelvis grinds down on your swollen clit.

“Seungie!” You whine in ecstasy. “I’m getting close.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t let up. In fact, his thrusts seem to get faster and rougher. His cock pistons in and out of your cunt, creating sloppy wet sounds as you get even wetter. His eyes are dark as he pulls back to look at you, all pretty squirming and trembling on his cock.

“Cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet cream so I can fill you up.” Heeseung pants. “Cum on my cock, angel.”

His teeth sink into your neck again, and it pushes you over the edge. Your hot cunt throbs as you squeeze down on his cock. Somehow your pussy only gets tighter and tighter as you get fucked through your orgasm. You tighten your legs around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax starts to taper off.

“So fucking tight.” Heeseung hisses by your ear. “Shit, baby. Get ready. I’m about to creampie your cute little pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

With a strangled grunt, he buries his cock to the hilt and shoots his load deep inside your fluttering walls while your pussy softly milks him for every drop of his hot cum. Mina reaches her own climax when she sees her boyfriend cumming inside you. She has to stifle her moans as she trembles and shakes outside the room that’s filled with the smell and sounds of hot sex.

“You’re taking it so well, angel.” Heeseung kisses your jaw tenderly as his fat tip spurts rope after rope of his thick cum into your clenching heat. “Milking my cock like I knew you would.”

He grinds his hips down, cock pulsing as he finishes stuffing you full of his hot, sticky load. Your stepbrother fucks his cum inside a bit more before reluctantly pulling out. Heeseung’s cock throbs as he watches his seed drip from your messy pussy.

He licks his lips, heated gaze never leaving your body. “Let’s do it again.”

You don’t try to protest as your manhandles into a different position. Mina is still coming down from her high when she realizes her boyfriend is still hard and about to fuck you again. She knows she shouldn’t feel excited or aroused by the fact, but she does. Especially when your face is shoved into one of Heeseung’s pillows just before his big cock rails back into your needy pussy.

Heeseung starts fucking you so hard his headboard slams into the wall repeatedly. The harsh sound pairs well with the plop plop plop sound coming from your cunt.

“God, Y/N. You’re so fucking good for me.” Heeseung groans when you clench down on him.

You moan loudly, bouncing yourself back on his cock. “Fu-Fuck, Seungie. This is wrong. We s-shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.” Your stepbrother smacks your ass, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “It’s so dirty baby, but I couldn’t help myself. Had to get my dick wet using your pretty little pussy.”

“Mmmh!” You whine out mindlessly, face turned to the side with your ass raised in the air for Heeseung to fuck deeper into your wet hole. “Feels so fucking good!”

“Yeah, it does.” Heeseung’s laugh sounds almost mean as he speeds up his thrusts to fuck his cock harder into your sopping cunt. “Your cute little pussy is the best I’ve ever had.”

His words shouldn’t please you as much as they do, but those lewd words turn you on so much that you can’t stop your cunt from tightening around him as he keeps spearing into you like an animal in heat. They also shouldn’t turn on Heeseung’s girlfriend but that’s exactly what they do. She isn’t angry, only extremely aroused as your ass bounces back on your stepbrother’s pelvis.

“Fuck!” Heeseung groans, fucking his cock right into your g-spot. “You’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You are. So hot that Mina finds herself wishing she could eat Heeseung’s cum out of your pretty cunt. She just knows you taste good, and mixed with her boyfriend she’s sure you must taste even better.

“Seungie, please!” You cry out, dizzy with arousal.

“Shit.” He growls, slipping a hand underneath your hips to rub fast circles on your clit. “Gonna make you cream on my cock again.”

“Heeseung!” You squeal as he picks up his pace, ramming into your squelching pussy as he rubs soft circles into your swollen clit.

Your stepbrother shoves his cock deep into your cunt and grinds, making you squirm and whine as his dick rubs against the spongy spot in your pussy. Your hands twist in the sheets. He flicks and pinches your puffy clit. God, do you look good, and so does Heeseung. Mina is groping one of her tits while the other hand goes to play with her pussy again. Briefly, she thinks she wouldn’t mind having a video of you two fucking so she can watch it over and over again.

“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You moan against the pillow.

“Do it, baby.” He encourages you, free hand coming down to slap your ass hard. “Cum all over my cock. Want to feel your hot cunt squeeze me.”

It’s not long before your orgasm hits. You’re screaming into your pillow as your cream coats Heeseung’s big cock. Your pussy clamps rhythmically around his dick. Mina can’t see you, but with the way your toes are curling she can tell your eyes are rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy.

“Oh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Heeseung praises you. His hands move to slap your ass again, making you squeal and tighten again. “Fucking work your little pussy on my cock. Fuck. Need to fill you up again.”

“Want you to stuff me full.” You whine back at him, pussy fluttering at the thought of Heeseung’s cum filling your cunt again.

“Yeah?” Your stepbrother laughs, sounding way too delighted. “Want me to creampie your hot little cunt again?”

“Please!” You whine as Heeseung’s fingers slide over your hip to start working soft circles into your clit again. You writhe back on him, feeling yourself get even wetter at the filthy thought of him shooting his hot load inside you.

“Cum inside me, Hee.” You pant, mewling when his fingers rub your clit even faster. “Want it so bad. Want to feel it.”

“Oh, fuck.” Heeseung groans, hips snapping hard against your ass when he feels how tight you’ve gotten. “You ready, baby? Fucking take it. Take your stepbrother’s cum in your needy little cunt.”

You moan loudly when you feel his hot cum filling your pussy, stuffing you so full it drips out around his cock. Heeseung ruts his spent cock into your sloppy pussy as he pinches your clit, watching as your back arches as a fourth orgasm sweeps through you. You lazily fuck your cunt back into him, loving the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and coating your thighs.

Heeseung pulls out of your warm cunt with a low groan. He’s quick to pull you against his chest and lays you down with him. His face is buried in your hair, eyes closed in bliss as you both try to catch your breaths. You feel his smile in your hair as he cuddles you and murmurs sweet praises against your temple.

Through your drooping eyes, you catch sight of Mina. Her eyes widen when you two make eye contact. You can’t hide your smirk when you see that she was masturbating to the sight of Heeseung fucking you raw. Instead of saying anything, you give her a seductive wink. Mina clenches around her fingers because the wink is full of understanding and promises.

It’s clear that Heeseung was never hers, but maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing.

#heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

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tomsparkyr · 5 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘!

following episode one of 'inside' — george clarke x fem!reader

by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)

wc: 6.4K

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You sat yourself down on the chair placed in the middle of the room, a soft blue and purple light flooding the area. You smiled at the camera in front of you, feeling a little bit nervous at the entire concept of the show; but nonetheless, you still agreed to contribute to it.

It was difficult not to tell your friends about the whole thing, sworn (and to a contract) that you weren’t allowed to tell them you were entering a home with no outside contact for 7 days; only allowed to tell them you were taking a social media break.

Your family knew, obviously. But unable to tell your fellow youtuber friends was tough, because it was so painfully obvious where you were going.

Having to lie to George, Chris and everyone else was awkward. They had arranged plans for the next week and you had to reluctantly say no, because of course, you would much rather be stuck in a home with people you don’t know and then spending money that could potentially be yours.

Clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.

”Hello, my name is Y/N, I’m 24 and I’m a youtuber slash content creator!” You grinned expectantly at the camera.

Continuing, “Most of my content is just… me and my friends getting drunk and filming it because we think we’re funny!” You answered honestly, thinking back on the many times you got too drunk filming pub golf videos that George had to give you a piggy-back on the walk home.

The camera crew asked you how well you think you’re going to do in the challenge,

“I’d like to think I’ll do well, honestly!” You laughed.

”I spend money but I don’t spend so much at a time; like I could go weeks without buying something, then suddenly I’m a couple hundred quid down within a week?”

You continued, “I think I can go without my phone for a week; I’d like to think I’m not that addicted.” You laughed and cringed slightly.

”If anything I think I’ll miss my friends more than anything. I’m sure I’ll love the people there but it’s meeting new faces, I’d just love to walk in there now and see someone I know— My dog! That’s it, I’ll miss my dog this most!” You interrupted yourself, losing your train of thought.

The camera crew laughed at you and pushed the interest about your dog back home, “I just hope she’s being looked after. I’ve left her with George for the week so I think she’ll live?” You laughed nervously.

Upon this, the camera crew behind the device smirked and tilted their heads downwards so you couldn’t see their face. A couple of them turned around and subtly nudged each other.

It was at this point that the crew said that your interview was over and that it was time to enter the place you’ll be living in for the next week.

You nervously picked up your suitcase, clinging onto your comfort pillow in your right arm and hugging it tight to your chest. You couldn’t remember if you could take this into the house but taking no risks, you took it anyway.

You entered a white room with zero life in it; a metal detector gate stood in the centre of the room and a hole to put your luggage in.

”Oh, God.” You muttered under your breath as you realised there was no turning back now.

You paused for a second and scanned the area before realising it was just you in here, “Oh, I’m by myself… that’s embarrassing.” You laughed at yourself, knowing your friends at home were going to be making fun of you when this aired.

Walking through the metal detector, you lugged your suitcase behind you and only just recognised that you might have overpacked for a place that would not utilise your items in absolutely any way.

After putting your suitcase on the conveyor, you walked through to the main area in which you could hear some voices, none of which you could distinguish.

Walking through the empty hallway, you called out “Hello?”

Upon saying this, two heads poked out and their eyes widened at the sight of you.

The girl ran over to you and embraced you into a hug and introduced herself, “Hey, I’m Mya!” She smiled at you as you responded; she was happy there was another girl in the house with her already.

Meanwhile, the man who had seen you first turned his attention to the other male in the house as you and Mya embraced; “Yo, George, isn’t that your girlfriend?”

George furrowed his brows, a bit taken aback “My what?” He laughed a bit as his feet took him towards the hallway to peek at the new arrival; who was supposedly his girlfriend?

Pulling back from Mya’s hug, you made direct eye-contact with George, your best friend, standing a couple feet away from you. “What the fuck?” You shouted and broke out into a sprint towards him, him already on route to you.

”No way!” He shouted back and caught your figure into a tight hug, his arms wrapped comfortably around your waist and lifted you off the ground slightly as he buried his face into your neck amidst the hug.

You slung your arms around his broad shoulders and fell into the all too familiar embrace, catching his scent and subtly running your hands through the hair on the back of his head.

”Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in here?” He chuckled, his voice muffled as his head was tucked into your neck; he had settled you down onto the floor now but didn’t falter his grip by any means.

You laughed back at him, pulling your head away so you could maintain eye-contact with him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” You retorted jokingly.

PK looked confused, “So they are boyfriend and girlfriend then?” Mya laughed at him, knowing the extent that you and George got shipped on Tiktok, the occasional edit finding itself on everyone’s for you page.

You and George turned back to look at PK,“No, no! George is my best friend!” You smiled at him, still in disbelief that George was actually here; “Half my videos are just with her.” George finished for you.

PK tilted his head, pointing between you two in which at the time you realised George’s hands were still resting on your waist while yours were cradling the back of his neck.

Confused (still), PK shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal, completely convinced that he was looking at a couple in front of him.

As more people entered one by one, you and George dispersed from the group, his arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you against him the entire time.

You shook your head and looked up at him with a smile, “What are you even doing here?”

George smiled down at you as you settled themselves down on the sofa in the living room.

“Dunno, the Sidemen like me so I thought, why not?” He laughed at himself, you scooted closer to him as he picked up a cushion to set it down on yours and his lap.

He nudged you, “What about you, you little minx, how did you keep that a secret from me?”

You smirked and fiddled with the loose threads on the cushion.

”I didn’t tell anyone!” You admitted, “Not you, not Chris, not Arthur; I told no one! Not even— Wait…” You trailed off, eyes widening.

”George, who’s looking after my dog?” You said, fear flooding your features.

George laughed and threw his head back, a hand rubbing up and down your shoulder as you persisted on the whereabouts of your dog.

”She’s living with Chris and Arthur for the week.” He reassured you, an obvious relief washing over you as your shoulders fell from a hunched position.

In your own little world, you and George nattered away to each other, updating him on everything he’s missed and completely ignorant to the new members joining the house; because you were all too consumed with each other.

George just knew at that moment that when this aired, Chris was going to rip into the way he was staring at his ‘best friend’.

A shouting voice tore you out of your George-infused daze as it was directed at you two, “Wait, you’re that couple that’s always edited on my for you page?”

The blonde girl next to her snapped her head around to the pair of you sitting with George’s arm still around you, her eyes widening, “Holy shit! I love you two!”

George’s cheeks suddenly were painted a pink colour and you sported a flushed face. An awkward laugh bubbled from your chest, “What?”

Upon seeing your awkward faces and red creeping up your necks, the blonde girl covered her mouth and apologised, “Oh fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

You stood up and left George’s touch, walking over to the girl with a comforting smile on your face.

“Don’t worry! Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You said as you raised your arms out for a hug.

She met you halfway as she responded,“Ugh, you’re gorgeous. I’m Milli.” She smiled sweetly at you, peering over her shoulder to see the other girl still gawking at you.

The louder one strutted over and immediately pulled you into a hug, “I’m Farah, who is sorry about—“ “Oh, God. Don’t even worry about it!” You reassured the girl, finding it quite amusing that you and George had crept your ways onto other people’s for you page.

time skip!

The bedroom situation was the next challenge.

After introducing yourself to everyone (they acted as if they didn’t know who you were, but they had all seen the George x Y/N edits) you all made your way over to the bedrooms, some even breaking out into a sprint.

A couple people jumped onto their beds, claiming it as their own. There were two double beds and the rest were singles, but because there were only 10 people at the time, sharing a double bed wouldn’t be an issue at the moment.

George leaped onto one bed and said sarcastically, “Oh my God, guys, stop fighting over my bed!” You laughed at him and slowly sat down on the one remaining bed next to his.

You crawled onto your bed after readjusting the pillows against the headboard so you could sit up comfortably, leaning back and allowing your eyes to close momentarily.

It wasn’t until you felt a nudge on your shin that you opened your eyes and saw a George Clarke resting on his stomach, a pillow squished between his chest and the bed, his beaming smile staring at you.

You tilted your head at him and smiled softly, lightly kicking your foot back at him as his hand lingered on your leg; the rest of the room became a blur as he kept looking at you.

Sending a quick wink your way, he hoisted himself up off the bed and gestured a hand out to you. You took it as he helped you onto your feet, so the group could walk back into the living room per producers request.

The group all positioned themselves on the couch, George settling down on the end as you squeezed between him and Mandi. With little spare room on the couch, George carefully lifted your leg so it was led over his thigh and his hand rested comfortably on your knee. Opposite you, Whitney grinned at the action.

George was fiddling with his bottle as the group conversed, “So, Y/N what do you do?” Cinna asked you.

Hearing your name, you perked up. “I mainly do YouTube videos with this weirdo here.” You pointed a thumb George’s way.

The group laughed at you and took careful notice at your closeness with George. “And George, what do you do?” She continued.

George tilted his head, “I started on TikTok.” He trailed off as Whitney butted in. “Do you talk on TikTok?”

“Yeah.” George responded. Whitney persisted, “Why not in real life?” You furrowed your brows at this. George, oblivious to her, said “Should I stop?” as he pointed at himself jokingly.

“But you don’t talk in real life! I’m like “George…” Whitney said. She was then interrupted by the Sidemen walking in, smug smirks tugging on their face.

You and George smiled at the familiar faces, previously being in Sidemen videos in the past. You took notice that George’s mood had picked up more now he knew more than one person, becoming more comfortable in the odd place he was confined in.

JJ began for the group, “Welcome to the new series of Inside!”

The group whooped and cheered at this. Everyone was excited at the prospect of winning a million pounds.

The Sidemen began listing off the rules and concept of Inside, everyone nodding along and the occasional verbal reaction.

Harry pointed at you and the group, “You’ll be glad to know, the shop is now open!” You and Farah made eye-contact and started jumping up to run to the shop as a joke, the group laughing at the pair of you.

JJ said one last thing before everyone bid their goodbyes to the Sidemen, “Good luck, motherfuckers!”

You all clapped and half heartedly cheered, more nervous than excited at this rate because the money you could win was in the hands of everyone else.

Farah quickly asked as they were leaving, “Wait, can I ask? When is the first challenge?”

“Shut up.”

time skip!

The group all discussed that you wanted to keep the prize money at least 800K, agreeing with a ‘hands in the middle’ before you all jogged down to the shop.

As you entered, half the group were already in there and complaining about the lack of choices they could purchase, Milli however wasn’t upset about the prices at this point.

You and George lurked at the back, shoulder to shoulder and laughed at Mandi as she stood up to the camera asking about the whereabouts of her vodka.

As a quarter of the group decided on food and drinks as the first purchase before you butted in with a suggestion, “Wait, surely we should get some entertainment first, just so we don’t all want to die on the first day?”

George, Dylan and Milli pointed at you, nodding and verbalising their agreement. Milli grabbed your upper arm and took you both to the camera to confirm your order.

“I’ll say table tennis bat and you’ll say table tennis ball, right?” You asked her, she smiled as you both poked your head up to the camera and held your microphone to your mouth.

“Can I confirm the table tennis bat,” “And the table tennis ball, please?” You and Milli spoke, giggling at each other after as you made eye-contact.

You distanced yourself from the group and they began talking louder and speaking over each other, finding yourself settled next to George who had barely spoken outside of you since being in here.

Looking at the list of items, you nudged George, “What the fuck is a ‘golden straw’?” You laughed and furrowed your brows.

You saw his eyes scan the list and chuckle at the item considering its price, “That’s actually a stupid price.” He thought out loud.

“I swear if anyone buys that shit…” You closed your eyes and shook your head, sneaking your arms around him so you could link arms.

The door suddenly opened to reveal the items you and Milli had bought. She turned around and called your name to come over to her. You walked over and tugged George close along behind you.

You saw Milli’s shoulder drop and she leaned down to pick the item up, “What?” You questioned. She turned around and lifted up the one tennis bat.

“No!” You gasped and tightened your grip on George’s arm. “Is it one?” He asked, dreading the worst after your reaction.

“It’s one!” Milli confirmed your suspicions. You groaned, cursing out the Sidemen as everyone around out kept bickering. You watched as Dylan walked back to the camera.

“I’m confirming that you did scam us with that one, I’m not going to lie. So we are ordering one more bat.” He purchased the other bat.

You turned around to face George, smiling up at him as his figure towered over you. “I’m gonna kick your ass at table tennis.” You promised to him and yourself. Laughing at you, he drifted his hands down to rest on your hips, “Best out of three; guaranteed I’m gonna win all three.” He replied smuggly, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Not bothering to listen to everyone talk about eating arrangements, you yanked George’s arm and the pair of you ran back to the living room, table tennis bats in hands and laughing in joy. Even in a confined house with 10 other people, you found George attached to you as if it was only the pair of you; no one else mattered except for him.

George walked around the table, shoving you lightly before the game started in an attempt to throw you off. You cleared your throat, “This is a practice round, no cheating and no foul play!”

“You’re only saying it’s a practice round so you’re not embarrassed when I kick your ass.” George winked at you and threw the table tennis ball down onto the table.

You heard a playful gag next to you, “Ew, guys stop flirting!” Cinna stated sarcastically. You and George only laughed and began playing against each other.

George played against you for a couple rounds, the game going back and forth a handful of times. Eventually, after a good 15 minutes, you beat George in a tight game. George only shrugged and walked backwards to sit on the couch, leaning his body back and relaxing for the first time since walking in here.

You tilted your head and called Dylan up to play against you, still high on adrenaline. “Dylan, come play the reigning champion!”

Hearing this, George’s head popped up with furrowed brows. “What? I thought you said it was a practice round?” He asked in mock offence.

You shrugged, “Yeah it was… until I beat you.” George suppressed a laugh into a groan and rolled his head back as you shot him a sickeningly sweet smile; knowing he had been caught out by you once again (not that he did anything to stop it).

interview room!

“I mean, I think I’ve started off decently. Barely spent money so far, but I haven’t been down there since I got the table tennis stuff.”

“I mean, I don’t really care about winning now that I’ve beaten George in table tennis! I’ve known him for years, played against him thousands of times and now suddenly hours into my new home for the week and straight off the bat I’ve already taken the win”

“My main concern right now is that I’m so hungry. And I know the meals are gonna be shit, but honestly, I could take anything right now!”

After gossiping about the whole pot noodle fiasco, an alert came up on the screen: ‘Lunch is now ready to collect from the shop’.

“Oh, thank God.” You groaned, feeling the effects of a constant rumbling stomach taking a toll on you. George, who was sitting opposite you looked puzzled and partially offended, “You’re taking the piss. Lunch?”

Leading the pack down to the shop, you skipped down to the final step and came face to face with an open trap door and met some… unpleasant food. Picking up two of the pots, you inspected the food.

George creeped in behind you and peered over your shoulder. Upon seeing his presence, you passed him his meal and stiffled a laugh at his scrunched up nose and face of disgust.

Grabbing a spoon, you opened the pot and attempted not to be put off it immediately. You watched Mandi verbally express her utter hatred towards the food; placing a hand on her shoulder, you urged her to try a bit before she opted out. “Hey, Mandi. Just try a little before--”

“Can I confirm an upgrade, please?” You sighed as she ignored you. Feeling awkward now, George wrapped his arm around its usual spot on your shoulder and tugged you against him, whispering in your ear not to worry about it; unbeknownst that the cameras can see and hear everything.

The pair of you walked away from the chaos of buying upgrades, chatting to each other and sitting back down onto the couch.

Cinna watched you and walked up to you, “Come with me to get the rest?” She urged, knowing many people had left scraps of food down in the shop and was aware of your hunger earlier on.

You smiled at her and left George’s touch, him frowning slightly. You followed side by side with Cinna, strutting into the shop and splitting the weight of the spare food between the two of you.

As you began walking away, you spotted something shiny left in the shop.

“No fucking way.” You murmered, now having personal issues with this goddamned straw. Cinna turned around at your words, eyes widening and walking over to pick up the straw.

“Is there a golden straw in there? Did they leave it?” She questioned no one in particular.

You threw the straw a rude face, “That shit cost fucking £2,500?” You shook your head, already having some suspects on who bought it.

Snatching the straw off her, you stormed ahead to the living room to ask some very needed questions; Cinna laughing at you as she trailed behind, finding your beef with the straw hilarious.

“Who bought this?” You spoke loudly as you entered the room, watching George on the beanbag throw his head back in mock frustration, murmuring some swear words in the wake.

Cinna walked in and made a bee-line for Mandi, “It was you, wasn’t it?” Mandi’s lack of an answer told you the whole story.

Passing the straw to Mandi, you felt a hand brush yourself and looked down to George playing with your fingers as he remained seated, his eyes watching the conversations rather than you. You suppressed a smile at this and tried to fight back a blush from creeping onto your face.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as the voice of Tobi rang around the house, “It’s time for your first challenge.”

time skip!

Finally, it was you and George remaining; neither of you had been selected to compete in Insider Dating (a part of you felt like they set you two up on purpose, but by no means were you complaining).

“And lastly… George? Y/N?” Simon smirked, holding his card close to his chest.

The group whooped and cheered as the pair of you stood up, even JJ was jeering you on. Tobi leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and JJ let out his gawking laugh in response. You groaned, fully aware it was something revolving between you and George.

George sat down opposite you, a worried grin painted on his face as you sucked in a deep breath, picking up the menu in front of you.

“For not the first restaurant date for these two,” Simon started, smirking as he watched both of your faces grow a shade darker and keeping your heads down low. Some of the other contestants let out a wolf-whistle and slammed the table as they laughed at Simon’s joke. “On the menu for you two is Shocking Questions.”

As you inspected the menu more, confused on what was happening, George had already figured it out. He looked at the Sidemen for confirmation and said, “Oh.” You looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t see your blush. “What’s that?”

“We’ll be getting shocked.” He said with a lack of enthusiasm. You closed your eyes and sighed, nervous about both the questions and being shocked; but remaining determined that you wouldn’t press the red buzzer.

Simon started, “Okay, George. You’ll be answering the questions first, so, Y/N, please ask the first question.”

You took a deep breath, inspecting the question before looking up at George and asking him, “What is your worst online dating experience?”

Unsure when to start, George looked around him and then at the camera, “Okay, um…”

He placed his hands on the table in front of him, “I matched with somebody on--” He cut himself off as an electric jolt sent his body forwards as he groaned in pain. You covered your mouth in shock and offered a hand out on the table for him to grip onto for comfort.

Taking your hand very quickly he continued, “That’s a lot of power. Um. I matched with somebody on Hinge, and I was speaking to them for about two days. Voice notes back and forth, it was fun. And then--”

Another jolt came through and he squeezed your hand hard, cursing out in the meantime, “Oh, God! I’m sorry, Y/N!” You shook your head and reassured him, “No, no! Keep going, you’re doing great!” The contestants laughed at you as you attempted to comfort George as more jolts came through.

“Fucking hell. Um, then I tried to meet up with them, but it turns out they weren’t real. I was there for an hour and a half.” You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his story, focusing on him and keeping eye-contact with him to try and urge him through this. Also thinking at the same time, if his questions were bad, think of the masacre for you.

“I came back home, reverse Google Image searched them--” George’s body locking up in pain from the electric, “And they weren’t real. Fucking hell, that’s a lot!” He groaned, still squeezing your hand across the table.

Simon urged you to ask the next question, “Could we please have the second question?”

Your eyes widened at the question and George felt more jolts come through, “Oh, my God, please, can we make it a quick one?” He begged, playing with your fingers and cracking your knuckles as a way to distract himself from the pain. “Oh, my God. That was actually quite bad.”

You began starting the next question, interrupted by George burying his head into his bicep and groaning out, “Fuck!”

“If you had to snog, marry and avoid three Insiders, who and why?” You stared into his eyes as a faint pink sprinkled his cheeks; you couldn’t decipher whether that was out of pain or embarrassment of the question.

George pulled a shocked yet puzzled face, “I don’t fucking know!”

PK from the side shouted out, “Yes, you fucking do!” while pointing your way; you were unable to see this as your eyes were trained on George in front of you.

“Both genders?” George joked to try and diffuse the situation, making the Sidemen laugh as jolts of electricity came through more frequently and painfully.

George shook his head and gestured towards you, “Snog you, avoid Farah,” He turned around to face her and sent an apologetic look her way, “Sorry, you’re quite loud!” The rest of the group laughed as he turned back to you, “And marry Y/N!”

The group, including the Sidemen all screamed and pointed accusing fingers at George, while you sat with a mouth open and a surely bright red face by now. “You said Y/N twice!” Simon raised his brows and shouted at the man. “You can’t pick the same person twice!” JJ laughed.

George’s eyes widened as he realised what he did, “Shit! I meant marry Y/N, snog Y/N-- Shit!” He cursed as another jolt came through and stumbled over his words, “Fuck! No! Snog Mya!”

Everyone, including you laughed at him as Simon now approved the answer, and George’s grip on your hand faltered and he hid his face on the table, embarrassed beyond belief.

Some of the girls awed at his answer as the chaos had only just settled down, the focus turning on to you (as if it wasn’t already).

You rolled your head back in an attempt to release some nerves but failed to do so. You swallowed hard and looked in front of you to see George, now sat upright, staring at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher.

Looking down at the table, you saw George’s extended hand open for you, “Tit for tat?” He tilted his head, smiling at you as you accepted it, your palm brushing his. He took a deep breath as his heart jumped a little bit at the intimate moment shared in front of everyone and dozens of cameras.

Simon perked up again, “George, could you please ask the first question?”

George looked down at the question sheet, eyes widening at the second question in particular, but chose to tackle that situation when he got there.

“Y/N,” You were waiting for the first shock but it hasn't come yet, “Why did you break up with your last boyfriend?” George asked.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Oh, God. Alright, so basically--” You screamed as the first shock came through and your body jolted forward in a much similar fashion as George’s previously had. You gripped his hand hard, feeling bad that you could potentially be hurting him in the process.

“You’ve got it, you’ve got it.” George encouraged you, a soft smile etched across his face.

“Shit! Okay--” Another shock going up your spine, painful but quick, “He said I was in-- Fuck!” More and more shocks came through. You understood you would have to rush this answer because there was no way you could get through it at this rate.

“He said I was in love with someone else apparently, so he-- Shitting Hell!” You gripped George’s hand. “So he cheated on me and I snitched on him to his mother!” You blurted out, hearing the loud laughter from the contestants and the Sidemen around you, even George was trying and failing to suppress a laugh.

JJ’s laugh stood out from everyone elses, “Damn Y/N! We’ll take that. George, next question?”

George’s smile fell slightly, “Right, Y/N…” Your body jolted forward in pain, “Shit! George, I love you but please hurry up!” The group laughed at your reaction.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N explain the story of your first kiss.” His voice faltered towards the end, heart thumping in his chest as your face paled.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly, “No! No! I can’t say that!” Tobi butted in, “Answer or lose 10K!”

A horrendous jolt of electricity went through your body and your hand held George’s while the other bunched up the cloth of the table as you squeezed it.

“Tell us, Y/N!” You heard other contestants shout at you. Milli shouted, “Come on, Y/N! You can do it!”

You tossed your head back, “Fuck! Okay! So basically, we were younger and neither of us-- Shit!”

“Neither of us had had our first kiss yet, so we--” You groaned, head now falling forwards as your hair covered your face slightly. George leaned over and brushed it away, tucking it behind your ears.

“Push the button, Y/N!” JJ urged. “Fuck off!” You screamed back, some of the group crying with laughter and standing up in doing so.

“We played odds on that we had to kiss right then and there! That’s it! Please turn this fucking thing off!” You begged, feeling sweat drip from your forehead now.

However, Simon decided to alter the rules of the game.

“Y/N, we’re not accepting that until you tell us who it was with.”

Your eyes bulged out of their head as the screaming around you ensured, George falling unusually quiet compared to everyone else as his gaze remained locked on you.

“What the fuck? That’s not-- Oh, God!” You groaned, “That’s not fair!”

JJ and Tobi just laughed, “Just tell us!”

You shook your head rapidly, “No fucking way!”

“Say it!” They screamed.

“No!” You responded with the same energy.

“You’re not leaving until you tell--”

“George!”

Everyone around you jumped up in shock and amusement, smacking the table laughing and pointing fingers at you and George.

George’s mouth also dropped open in shock as he didn’t think you would actually admit to it, blush coating his neck and cheeks as everyone was looking at you two and that you had exposed your deepest secret.

Your body relaxed as the shocks stopped but you didn’t necessarily win; sure, not losing 10K is great, but now on day one of your new home, everyone would talk about you and George, definitely not helping your case that you’re not dating.

Simon removed his hand from covering his mouth in shock, “Well… I guess you passed.” He didn’t know what to say, no one did really; everyone was just screaming incoherent words in disbelief of this entire situation.

You had never wanted to hear the words of Tobi more in your entire life, “Insiders, you have completed your first challenge of the series.”

time skip!

After a long first day, you had settled yourself down onto the couch in the living room. Led down, you sported George’s hoodie as he found himself back at the table tennis court; this time battling against PK. Blocking everyone out, you drift off for your much needed nap.

As George played against PK, the new contestant DDG had some questions.

“I didn’t know the Sidemen let couples on here.” He thought out loud, catching everyone in the room's attention. They looked at him with tilted heads. “Who’s the couple?” Cinna asked.

DDG pointed a thumb in your direction as you laid unconscious on the couch, “That’s your girl, right?” He nodded towards George.

George chuckled and looked down, “Yeah, George. How’s your girl?” PK teased.

Shaking his head, George served the tennis ball nonchalantly, “She’s just my friend.” He didn’t know who he was trying to prove, himself or those around him.

Dylan butted in, “Oh yeah, I just kiss my best friends every now and then.”

Without looking at them, George continued, “Ah! I was her first kiss, that doesn’t mean we just kiss every now and then.”

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” PK laughed. In mock retaliation, George served a harsh ball his way, the mini group laughing at him.

DDG looked between you on the couch and George standing to his right, “Hold up… you’re not dating her?” George shook his head.

He raised his brows, “For real, man?”

George slowly nodded, “For real.” He sounded partially disappointed but masked it as he continued playing table tennis.

time skip!

You found yourself standing in the shop alone, inspecting the items as you were yet to purchase anything for yourself, excluding the singular tennis bat earlier. You heard someone creeping up behind you.

“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” George whispered from beind you, crouching down slightly so he could reach your height. You leaned back into him and his hands wrapped around your waist.

“Why the fuck do I want that jiggly ball so bad?” You thought out loud. George responded with a loud gawking laugh, stumbling back a bit and bringing you with him.

You turned around and slapped his chest, “No, George! It’s not funny! Why does every part of me need that jiggly ball?”

He looked down at you with a suggestive eyebrow raise, your face fell as you understood what he was insinuating. “Oh, shut up!”

Laughing, you held his hand and walked out of the shop together. You settled on the couch again after your nap, reintroducing yourself Patrice as the last time you saw him was when you were half-asleep.

A couple of minutes later, you heard your name being whispered at the door. Standing up, you followed the noise and was met with George suppressing a wild grin and something stuffed up his shirt. “Oh, God. What did you do?” You smiled.

George leaned down and dragged the pair of you into the corner of the room, “I might have suggested that Farah get something for you.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement.

“No, you didn’t…” You mumbled.

It was then that George whipped out the bright purple and blue jiggly ball from underneath his shirt, handing it to you and bouncing it between his hands in the process, giggling in excitement. “Oh, my God!” You squealed.

You took the ball from him and played with it for a moment before looking up to see George already staring at you. You shook your head, smiling at him, “Thank you!”

You pulled him into a crushing hug, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground, swaying the pair of you back and forth slightly. He placed you back down as you seperated from the hug, hands remaining on your waist as you stared at each other, not breaking eye-contact.

Neither of you said anything to each other, but your eyes said so much more. The hand that wasn’t holding the ball reached up to his face and urged him to tilt his head to the side, before you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Pulling away from your peck, you smiled at him and backed away slightly. You tossed the ball so it hit his forehead lightly and bounced back into your hands, “I’ll see you later.” You bit your lip to keep your smile from growing.

Walking away, you didn’t notice that George watched you as you went; a hand pressed up against his cheek where you had kissed him, only hoping it was closer to his lips.

As bedtime rolled around, you situated yourself in your bed next to George’s. You rested on the side facing him, finding him doing the same and could recognise his beaming smile even in the darkness.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as the tiredness took a toll on you. You let your hand flop off the side of your bed, not thinking too much of it.

Then, you felt a soft brush against your hand and looked down at it, seeing George’s hand lacing his fingers with yours as his hand was stretched off his own bed. Leaning off the side of his bed, George pressed a soft kiss onto the back of your hand, signaling a sweet ‘goodnight’ to you before the pair of you dozed off.

Maybe this weird, confined lifestyle where everything was overpriced and challenges determined your mood for that day wasn’t too bad. But maybe, it was rather the person holding your hand that could help you tolerate this.

taglist (ps love u all):

@sidemenslver @wherethezoes-at @multifanxtvshows @bibissparkles @le-le-lea @tiamonetsworld @dopeysunflowers @viagracex @rebeccaw05-blog @sundarksposts @sabbrriiinnaa @lovingaphroditesworld @evisceratedmuke @youtubewag @happyclifford @liz140569 @addiemb8332 @isabellem2909 @madforgeorge @pookietv @iammyownselfdestruction @marijas-stuff @maggie-readss @bambidollstar @lottiewills @hollie911

#george clarkey #george clarke #george clarke fics #george clarke smau #george clarke fluff #george clarke fanfic #george clarke x reader #george clarke x fem!reader #sidemen inside #inside #sidemen x reader #sidemen #george clarke series #george clarke inside

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shotmrmiller · 5 months ago

Text

(Unnamed for now, 4.8k words of nothing but self indulgence because ex bf simon is king. just porn without plot, the usual filth. also i wrote myself into a hole with the smut but whatever.)

If your friends knew that you'd gone to great lengths to look presentable— less cave-dweller, more human— hoping to get lucky tonight only to end up waving off anyone of interest because you're too busy sulking about a relationship you willingly broke off, they'd kick you from the group chat.

(Or never let you live it down.)

But here you are, perched on a barstool, its cracked leather slightly sticky beneath your legs, the cocktail you'd ordered a while ago sitting mostly untouched on an even stickier bar top. Lamenting. Moping all over a guy who hasn't bothered to return a single phone call since you left him the voicemail. And it hadn't been his fault, really. He'd been upfront with you from the get-go; he's a busy man with a job you don't want to know about and are safer not knowing about.

You'd noticed the specific wording he'd used. Not better off but safer off, its implications perilous. The hardened look he'd given you when you'd pressed him on it, hoping for a slip of the truth, had been the first and only warning you'd needed.

Get off his case, understood.

You clench your teeth, irritation nipping at your nerves. You'd like to think that you've mourned this ex-relationship plenty and feeling an acute, smoldering ache again over a whisper of a memory (and not even a fond one at that)—

Time to douse these flames.

Waving the bartender down, you push away the watered-down drink and gesture for a shot. She eyes you warily, hesitating for a moment before sliding an empty glass over and reaching for some top-shelf bottle your bank account already feels the bite of. The fiery burn that courses down your throat resembles the one in your chest.

The alcohol swiftly does its job, offering a sense of relief, and you're grateful for it, even if fleeting. The room starts to blur a bit, the strobing lights overhead bleeding together like a watercolor painting left out in the rain, and you let yourself sink into the moment, the gentle ebb of intoxication pooling heat in your cheeks, warmth seeping into your limbs.

Things don't look so bad now; the world has taken a dreamlike quality to it, with softened edges and vibrant colors. With the liquid courage dulling the sharpness of your previous thoughts and easing the tension in your shoulders, you reckon that now you can start looking for your prey of the evening. It's why you even bothered to slink out of your comfort zone in the first place.

Mission directive: Get laid. Or plan B: go home with a new number saved in your contacts.

You rest your chin on your palm, eyes lazily scanning around the room, taking in the hazy but lively atmosphere. The dance floor is a whirl of energy, couples moving to the rhythm of the music, a group of friends huddling in a corner, hands gesturing animatedly as they chat each other up, and at the front—

If you swiveled away in your chair any faster, the courage you'd knocked back 10 minutes ago would come back up, spilling onto the bar top the barkeep gave up trying to keep clean. There have been numerous instances where your mind plays tricks on you, teasing you with glimpses of big and blonde in your peripheral while out running errands, the miserable lump in your throat only dislodging once you've made your grand escape.

(It's not running away; It's a tactical retreat. You'll face the music when it's less deafening.)

And in keeping with tradition, you settle your tab and scurry off to the bathroom, clutching your bag like a lifeline. A familiar shadow just walked in through the front door, once again haunting you. No matter how many times you whisper reassurances under your breath, dismissing it as a cruel joke your mind loves to play, the semblance of him never fails to arouse a bit of panic in you.

The trip to the bathroom feels like you're trekking across the country, weaving in and out and around crowds of people, dodging flailing limbs like an extreme sport. The inside is relatively small and cramped; three stalls for the entire bar. It's blessedly empty, so you beeline to the sink, hoping for a splash of cold water to settle your nerves.

The water is startlingly cold, or maybe it feels colder because you're flustered, and you're mid air-drying your hands when you hear it: that unforgettable gait, heavy and solid, like a tank rolling over rugged terrain. It's something that you can still hear echo in the small confines of your flat when the world is quiet. The mirror in front reflects your tense face, its edges cloudy with time and poor-quality cleaning solutions.

Get a grip, you're losing it.

Until the door swings wide, hinges screeching as it gives way with no resistance, and you realize that you're not losing it. But you just might.

"'Ello, poppet."

Incredulity forces a chuckle out of you because it's either you laugh or you cry.

"Nice," he eyes the cracked tile beneath your feet, "choice for a night out. Beer's more piss than ale, though." The door closes behind him.

The mockery in his voice is wildly unwarranted, especially for a man you haven't heard from for a better part of the year, and you finally gather your wits to bite back indignantly.

"What? It's not your cuppa? I always assumed you ratted out in seedy holes like this." The bruise-tight grip you've got around your bag makes your fingers ache. "I'll be sure to pick a more refined place for you next time."

He wastes no time closing the gap between you two, your three steps back negated by his single one with laughable ease, and the space around you seems to shrink, his presence swallowing it whole. You'd forgotten just how large a man he was— is.

A different beast altogether.

"No need. We won't be comin' back 'ere again." Your brows quirked at that. He's gone and learned French, apparently. Oui. You try to keep your personal bubble intact by taking another step back only to come in contact with a stall door, its chilly surface forcing your spine rigid. Cornered, caught in the crosshairs of the hunter's gaze, and the intensity of it makes you feel vulnerable, bare, as if you're staring up the barrel of a loaded gun.

"Easy, lovie, no need to look at me like tha', 'm jus' 'ere to talk," he says with a tone that's tinged with condescension, and his giant mitts are up and palms facing you like he's dealing with a skittish animal. There's a thought there, buried deep, that you refuse to acknowledge.

"Talk?" The question bursts out before you can stop it, followed by a sardonic laugh that feels unexpectedly cathartic as it leaves your mouth. Talk now, when you not only kept your line of communication open but also actively tried reaching out for weeks? Weeks spent waiting for a response, foolishly hoping he'd give a damn enough to at least put up a fight for you and what you had?

He tilts his head slightly, eyes unreadable. "Better late than never," he remarks, but that's the problem, isn't it? You were forced to come to terms with never, whether you liked it or not. And you had not liked it, but it had been necessary. To know there was a part of his life you weren't welcome to, regardless of reason, was something that shadowed your interactions. The realization that you were kept at arm's length due to the duality of his life was too bitter a pill to swallow.

It'd been a painful process making peace with the fact that maybe things just hadn't been meant to be. C'est la vie and all that tripe. But now, here he stands before you, having materialized out of thin air, a bloody intrusion upon the fragile peace you've built for yourself— it feels like a mockery of the emotional distress you've had to endure.

"Better late than—? You honestly fucking think you can just," you stumble over yourself in disbelief, "just corner me in a tiny bathroom of a dingy bar to talk?"

Simon raises one bulky shoulder, unconcerned. "You chose the place."

His piss poor attempt at a joke is like a slap in the face. "Right. Goodbye, Simon." You step around him briskly, your arm brushing against his. Just as your fingers graze the cold metal of the door handle, his encircle your wrist and gently pull you away. The span of his palm could easily engulf the entirety of your hand, and you can't help but wonder if you're as delicate and fragile as you feel in his grasp.

"Let me try that again," he murmurs tentatively, and you curse your good nature— the one that's always been too quick to soften even when you know better. You know just how clumsy he is with words, how his tongue ties itself in knots when emotions creep into the conversation. Simon gives your wrist a tender squeeze. "Ya can leave whenever you want."

Damn it. Damn it. Fine. This confrontation has been a long time coming anyway. "Then try again and make it fast," you snap, words short and clipped. "How we haven't been kicked out of here yet is a bloody wonder."

He steps away from you and leans his hips against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. Here Simon stands, no longer a hazy apparition in the corner of your eye but fully here. Real. Uncomfortable so. You shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"Didn't mean to disappear on ya," his tone carries a note of something resembling regret. "Work took me across the world, couldn't reach out t'you even if I wanted to." And there it is, the crux of the problem. His job. Always his job. The one part of his life you've never been allowed to see, what had been the ever-constant shadow hanging over your relationship. What tore him away from you for weeks at a time only for those same gaps to start getting longer and longer while his stays grew shorter.

That's not good enough.

"So that's it?" Simon cannot honestly expect you to take his paltry excuse and run with it. As if it's enough to stitch together the wound his silence left behind. "Work? That's what you're going with?" It's the audacity that stings the most, the hope that you'd simply accept it and move past all of this heartache.

For all you know, he could be lying through his teeth, spinning enough truth to make it seem believable. You must have your suspicions plastered on your forehead because Simon peels himself off the sink with a sharp breath and narrowed eyes.

"'M many things, love, but a liar ain't one of 'em." His hand disappears into the front pocket of his worn denims, and when he pulls it free, you instantly recognize the tattered, frayed edges of his wallet. Still clinging to life, it seems. As stubborn as the man holding it. He opens it and extends it to you because it's imperative you see...?

"Work." And right there is an ID, not your plain old driver's license, which you're unsurprised to see absent. The man has no business being behind the wheel of any vehicle; he's a threat to all life and limb while on the road— but a military ID, the insignia emblazoned on the card unmistakable. You'd pieced together as much but never fully assumed, never formed a picture, just a blurred outline that left more questions than answers.

Name: Simon Riley. Rank: Lieutenant. Special Forces is right above the square where a photo is supposed to be. "There's no picture." You flash your eyes up at his in question.

"Never," he states.

You swallow thickly. An admission, this is. A roughly hewn olive branch tucked away in the ratty wallet you'd told him to toss ages ago. He snaps it shut with a practiced flick and then rucks up the right sleeve of his jacket up to the crook of his elbows, exposing his forearm, stark and freckled, the skin pale but then closer to his wrist, his flesh taking on a more golden hue— honeyed, sun-kissed.

Simon Riley does not tan.

"Sat on my arse out in a barren stretch o' land f'r months on end, cookin' under the blazin' sun while waitin' for orders tha' never came," he grumbles, voice weary. He doesn't flinch when your wandering fingers feather across the darkened strip of skin. "The only form o' communication was local." You flip his hand, the underside of his wrist startlingly pale like the underbelly of a fish. "Couldn't 'ave reached out even if I wanted to. No signal."

It hangs heavy, what he was willing to share, and you're wondering if he's only asking for understanding or something else. Your treacherous heart flutters in your chest, breath squeezing from your lungs. A tiny part of you hopes for he's asking for that something else.

There's a new scar on his palm, close to the hardened calluses on his knuckles, the deep, puckered groove still red and raw— fresh enough to make you wince— and you can't help the frown that pulls at your lips. You can bet he took care of this himself, the oaf. Probably spit it clean and wrapped it up with whatever he had on hand. He's lucky it didn't infect.

"Only when I came back did I receive the missed calls, the texts, the bloody voicemail," he gnarls, and while the sharpness of his tone isn't aimed at you, you feel the biting sting of it anyway. Simon cradles your hand in his much larger one, and he doesn't squeeze, doesn't hold too tight; he simply holds it, the choice to refuse him if you wanted.

You don't.

"And this isn't something you could've told me before? I know I pressed when I shouldn't have," chagrin pools in your cheeks, "but I worried for you. You were sometimes so unreachable, standing between two worlds at once. I couldn't help ease the weight of your responsibilities because I didn't know what I was dealing with." As you thread your fingers with his, they feel impossibly small, brittle— like the bones of a bird swallowed in the expanse of his hand. How unsettling.

(Yet you wouldn't have it any other way.)

Simon shakes his head, slow and deliberate, but his grip on your hand tightens. "I've more enemies than friends," he mutters, raising your hand to his masked lips, the gesture oddly tender as he presses a kiss on it even though it forces you to rise onto your tiptoes. You blow a puff of air, mildly exasperated. Big geezer.

"Every time I rid myself o' one, two take their place. I only did it t' keep ya safe. There's nothin' they'd love more than to exploit any o' my weaknesses." He says it as though the admission itself is dangerous, and maybe it is, but the risk, you believe, is one worth taking even if he won't.

Where he sees danger, you see trust. And that's all you ever wanted. Trust, because either you'll have all of him or none of him, so you tell him that.

His grip tightens imperceptibly. "Only wha' I feel is safe f'r you to know. Nothin' more." You know he means it. You've seen how far he's willing to go, how much he's willing to sacrifice, to keep you out of harm's reach.

Simon will shoulder just about anything alone if it means you'll be kept safe.

How lovely. He's taken it upon himself to play Batman when no one cast him into the role. Ah, well. A win is a win, and you've long learned some battles aren't worth the effort today, so you tuck this conversation into the back of your mind, a note to revisit at a later date. As for now, though...

"Alright, Si," the old nickname slips from you so easily, as if it never left, "We can continue this tomorrow, if you're able, but as for me," your gaze flickers to the faint ring of grime around the drain and the scribbles covering the peeling walls, "I've just about had it with this place."

But he's got no interest in letting you go now, not when you've given him the second chance he'd been desperate for. Instead, he jerks you to him, your shoulder colliding into his chest, his arms cinching tight around you. There is no grace, no soft pretense to it— just a raw, unfiltered need of a man clinging to what he's been too afraid to lose; your arsecheeks apparently because that's what he's currently pawing at.

Pervert. Honestly, you'd applaud him for holding back from groping you for this long. No shame in giving credit where it's due. You thought about letting him have his fill, indulging his starved-dog behavior until his hands started to wander beneath your clothes. You ought to make him stop this before it spirals into something completely out of your control.

Ah, but then he latches onto the sensitive spot on your neck, right below the ear, so close to your drumming pulse and your words snag in your throat like fishhooks when he suckles.

It's tragic how quickly you cave.

Simon's breath fans hot over your spit-slick throat, slow and composed while yours is sharp and shallow as if you can't quite catch it. He jerks his head toward the stall, and you freeze, disbelief rooting you in place.

"You're joking." He's gone and lost whatever scraps of sanity he had left back wherever he was because there's no way you're getting down and dirty in— your lip curls in distaste as you look at the industry-grade bottle of disinfectant that sits in the corner— here. But then he's dragging you toward the nearest stall anyway, your bag tumbling to the ground, not my bag, Simon, shit, you owe me another. The door is a pitiful excuse for privacy, barely clinging to the hinges and sporting a gap wide enough to make you grimace. You've hardly any time to register anything else before Simon is already at your feet, smoothly dropping to one knee, the crown of his head dipping slightly below your navel.

Simon's hands cup the back of your thighs, palms spread wide as they trail upward, the tips of his fingers finding lace and not your everyday cotton. With a deliberate slowness, he lifts the hem of your skirt, his neck craning just enough to bring his line of sight under the drape of fabric, and his gaze lingers.

Oh right. You've got on that set— the one he'd carefully chosen for your birthday, that one that fits you so perfectly it almost feels unfair. A little indulgence that'd been meant for his eyes only. Even as you'd slipped it on earlier tonight, it'd felt like you'd been breaking the rules.

It makes you wonder...

You hook a leg over his shoulder, the heel of your shoe digging into the straight plane of his back. "Well?" Your question is wrapped in feigned nonchalance. "Does it make you upset?" Simon shrugs, dismissive, his eyes steady as they lock onto yours. The dim light above buzzes faintly, its unkind glow spilling over his rugged face. It does nothing to soften the sharpness of his features.

And you notice a new scar, tiny, close to his hare's lip.

"Doesn't threaten me, sweet'eart."

A sharp laugh escapes you. How infuriatingly arrogant. Simon leans in, his nose brushing against your sex roughly before he takes a crude sniff, unrestrained, unapologetic. Nasty as always.

The faintest smirk curls the corners of his lips. "Can't blame me, my girl and I 'ave been apart f'r too long." Humming, you place a hand on his head, palming over the short bristles of his hair before curling around the back of his neck, and you grind down on him.

"If you're hungry, then eat." The smile you give him after your gracious offer is nothing short of salacious.

Simon thumbs your gusset to the side and slips his tongue through your folds, and it's electric, raw. Frissons ripple through you, starting from your nape, and it cascades down your arm and your legs, and the sensation is sharp, almost overwhelming, and you bow forward, nails digging into the dense muscle of his traps.

It's been so fucking long.

Hot, wet pressure circles around your swollen clit, purposefully shy of what you covet, enough to stir something within you but not enough to satisfy— nowhere near enough. It makes you testy. Impatient. It pushes you to lose control, feeling it slip from his grasp, only to land squarely in his.

It's the exact reaction Simon craves. You can grind down on the tip of his nose all you want, push and pull at his head every which way, but you don't come without his say so, and to earn that, there's something you have to do.

By the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip, bite-swollen and glossy with spit, peering down at him with bleary eyes after having rutted against his face without restraint, frantically seeking the friction you yearn for, you also know what to do.

Good.

Now he waits. Your pussy is dripping slick, dewy honey trailing down his chin and joining the sticky mess pooling near his knee, but he doesn't care— his focus is entirely on you. Simon knows exactly how this will end. You're as mulish as ever, he muses, but you'll break. You always do. It's not a question of if but when, and he's content to wait as long as it takes for the inevitable. After all, he's a patient man when he chooses to be.

Your chest heaves with every ragged draw of air to your lungs, your pretty lips quivering with need, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. If he had the skill, he'd pencil this very moment onto paper, immortalizing it. The desperation that clings to your features, the frustrated grunts you give when he laps at your— his— cunt, tongue skimming just shy of your pearl.

It's intoxicating. A heady visceral rush that courses through his veins and pools white-hot in his groin, stiffening his cock almost painfully.

And then, when a finger dips into your sopping entrance, the composure you'd been desperately clinging to begins to come apart. Simon watches it unfold through heavy-lidded eyes, the gentle part of your lips, the tremor in your breath— he drinks up every single second.

"Please," your voice is barely more than a breadth of a whisper. Your surrender is almost as sweet as you.

The kiss he plants on the inside of your thigh is searing as he hums. "What's it?" The prickly stubble of his jaw scratches against your skin. "Don't lose ya courage now," he murmurs, "you've already fought 'alf the battle.

Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, but you truck on, dignity long lost, in tatters next to your bag on the floor. "Please let me come." Your words come out in a half whine, half plea, and Simon's response is immediate; he cants your hips as two thick fingers enter you fully, and at this angle, it's more than he knows you can take, but you asked for it. Begged for it.

Simon takes it slow, not easy, the suction on your clit maddening; strong, fluttering pulses that seemingly beat in tandem with your heart and the world begins to tilt on its axis, his strong hands keeping you anchored lest your knees give way beneath you.

The world narrows down to the sound of your hiccups, the tension coiled spring tight below your navel, the feel of his shirt knotting in your fist— if he had hair long enough to tug, you would've ripped it out.

You knock your head back against the door almost violently, the dull throb stamped out by the livewire crackling beneath your skin when you finally do come, a scorching heat radiating from within your core out, leaving a raw, tingling sensation in its wake. It stings, you dazedly muse. The orgasm that was wrenched from you was so thunderous your pussy stings. It's short-lived but potent, and you can't help but wince, your lips curling, teeth slightly bared in discomfort.

Ouch.

Simon, on the other hand, is just peachy, unbothered as ever, leaned back on his haunches, chin glistening with slick, his thumb sweeping what's about to drip off his nose.

"Don't think for a second I'm returning the favor here. I've standards, Simon." He huffs in response but says nothing, expecting nothing less of you, instead opting to shrug his jacket off and place it over your drooping shoulders. Your limbs feel leaden as you exit the stall, Simon nimbly reaching for your health hazard of a bag before leading you toward the door.

Your fingers curl around the knob, and twist and pull—

and nothing. Confusion knots your brows together as you retrace your steps. Had you pushed or pulled it open? You can't quite recall, so you give it a firm push it instead—

and nothing. Again. The door stays closed.

"Need help there?" Irritation sparks within you, wishing your glare would eviscerate the obstinate door. Does Simon think himself funny? All you want is to go home, scrub yourself sparkling clean, and sleep until the late afternoon, but the door is conspiring against you. Good. Great, even.

"Bloody door," you grumble, "It won't open." Simon steps forward, unhurried, and twists the handle once, twice—

"Open sesame," he says, tone utterly flat and casual, and you snap your slackened jaw shut. "Oh for fuck's sake, Simon, keep your shit jokes," but the door opens with a click.

You're joking.

You're fucking joking.

It swings wide with a creak, and you glance around instinctively. Nothing out of place— just the usual drunken bodies flowing in and out, their laughter and slurred conversations blending into the background.

Simon drapes a heavy arm around your shoulders, large hand squeezing firm as he walks you out, and you trudge alongside, your gait sluggish, until a massive bulk stumbles into your path, and Simon quickly places himself between you and the drunken mass, both a protector and a threat.

The bloke is a guy with a row of thick hair that runs from his forehead to the nape of his neck, the sides clean shaven. "Sorry, bonnie, didnae mean ta-" limpid blue flashes to Simon, his thin-lipped smile stretches wide— too wide— flashing too many teeth for comfort, "bump into ye." He doesn't linger though, clodhopping his way back to the bar. There's a bold-lined tattoo on his nape, of a... revolver? A choice.

"Walk. I'll take ya home. Won't come in for a nightcap," the lines by his eyes becoming more pronounced. "Scouts 'onor." Simon pulls you along, and you're fighting off the sleep in your eyes when a man in a cap, his profile partially hidden by the brim, bumps his knuckles against Simon's shoulder, and curiosity outweighs your fatigue.

"Who's that?"

Simon grunts. "Security."

You don't remember having been frisked by security when you came in.

The crisp air outside bites your cheeks when you step out, and you're grateful for Simon's forethought as you tug the sides of his jacket closer to you, burying your nose into the collar— it smells of cigarette smoke and him, musky and woodsy— a quiet comfort. Sleep tugs at your eyelids, each step feeling heavier than the last as you make your way towards his vehicle.

The metal door groans as it opens, and he extends a hand, aiding you up when you squeeze it as you slur out a confession.

I missed you.

He doesn't falter in his movements as he guides both your feet inside, and his hands are steady as he adjusts the belt, buckle quietly clicking into place until he straightens, gaze dark and fluid as it lingers on you.

He runs the rough pad of his thumb along your bottom lip tenderly.

"I know, sweet'heart. Get some sleep."

The door closes with a firm but gentle push.

I know, he says. Exhaustion pulls at you, dragging you further away from consciousness. Bastard.

Simon doesn't wake you when he pulls up to your driveway, hooking an arm under your knees and the other around your waist to take you inside, your head lolling on his shoulder. Tomorrow, you'll ask him how he knows where you live, considering you moved for a new job months ago.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #x f reader #just to play it safe #i wrote myself into a wall with the skirt thing lol #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x you #cod smut #simon riley smut #simon riley #LAZY BEGINNING AND IM GONNA BE HONEST WITH YALL #I DONT CARE #IM ONLY GOOD FOR TWO THINGS #SMUT AND QUIPS #USELESS IN EVERY OTHER ASPECT OF LIFE

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