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slamminslamminmcgill · 5 months

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I LITERALLY ONLY FINISHED EP 1 OF TLOU BEFORE WRITING THIS 😭 this man just has me going fucking insane rn i had to word vomit. spent my whole day on this bc im delulu

warning: homophobia and transphobia, trans fetishization, degradation/humiliation, slurs, vaginal sex, rough oral sex, NASTY daddy kink (like… borderline incest rp and ddlb maybe idk i just work here), hanky code, spit kink, breeding kink, gags, drug dealing (weed and opioids), reader is a sex worker/weed dealer with clit piercings

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/kitty, clit/(t-)dick

It started as a drug deal. A bad habit picked up after top surgery. A rumor that this guy sold opioids. A wink and a nod of the head from across the plaza during a hanging. A few hankies tucked in your jeans, two shades of blue on the right, light green and a flag on the left. You were never sure if he knew what they meant. You’d never had the chance to ask. Until today, you happened to have a favor to ask him.

“Look, you know I’m usually reliable, right? If you could just gimme more time, I promise I’ll get you an ounce on Monday, on me.” That was a pretty decent offer. You usually gave him a quarter of bud every trade, so an ounce for the same price was surely nothing to sneeze at.

“If you’re not ready today, you ain’t gettin’ shit today. Sorry, kid.” Fuck. Ah, well. At least he wasn’t mad at you. Plus, he always called you ‘kid’. It made sense, since he was definitely old enough to be your dad. Maybe he had a soft spot for you. And he certainly met the diagnostic criteria for DILF, but goddamnit, your gaydar couldn’t get a reading on him. You figured the best way to find out for sure would be to offer up your other goods and services and see if he takes the bait.

“Well, uh… maybe there’s…” You took a step closer to him, putting all your weight into your hips hoping they’d jump out at him, “…something else I can offer you?”

They didn’t. His stare never shifted from your face. “Like what?” Joel asked unclockably.

You took the tips of your hankies between your fingers and held them out to him, spreading your wings, a display for attracting mates not unlike that of a peacock. “You know what these mean?” You asked with a quirk in the brow and some devious faggotry in your voice.

Joel crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, a cocky, almost sort of try me type stance. “What do they mean?”

You named your hankies, one-by-one. Green, “This one means I’m a sex worker,” Trans, “This one means I have a pussy,” Navy, “This one means I get fucked,” and Cyan, “This one means I suck co-“

“I’m sorry, that one means what?” Joel interrupted, and pointed at your trans flag. He wasn’t just gonna let you gloss over that, just as you’d hoped.

“Oh, this one?” You pinched the tail of the trans flag and let the rest fall to your sides. A cheeky, cherubic, chaotic smile on your face as you taunted him. “It means I have a pussy. I’m trans.”

Joel’s face contorted in a few spasms of different emotions. A blink of shock, a blip of disgust, a second of intrigue, ‘til he landed on confusion. “So, uh…” His eyes crawled downwards to your crotch, then back up to you. “…how’s that work?”

Sure, you could give him the polite conversation explanation of the transmasculine identity, gender dysphoria and its treatments. Or, you could give the simplest and sexiest possible definition that would appeal to Schrödinger’s Straight Man over here. “Was born a girl, cut my tits off, shot up testosterone, and now I’m a man, but I kept my cunt.”

“Fuckin’ Christ…” He grunted, then cleared his throat, trying his damndest to remain calm and bloodbend his newfound erection away. Today was the wrong day for the light wash jeans. His growing bulge was the visual feedback of your influence on him.

A by-the-book boypussy sales pitch. Testing well with the focus group. You took another step with a sway of the hips, encroaching on his personal space but not penetrating it just yet. “Well? Whaddaya think?”

Joel bit his lip and said nothing for a moment. It seemed he was taking his time to figure out what exactly he did think about your revelation. “…Just 2 pills?”

“Just 2 pills…” You nodded, “Just enough to last me the weekend…” and took another step closer, then one more, until you could reach out and rub his bicep. “I’ll bump you up to an ounce, get it to you on Monday…” Your curious fingers started to trail down his arms and over to his delightfully soft dad-bod tummy. “And I’ll show you a good time today… Show you something you’ve never seen before…”

To say you were coming on pretty strong would be a massive understatement. And, hell, touching him? You were coming on like you had a death wish. Your hand slid downward, down to the heat he was packing in his pants, and stroking his rifle in your game of tactile Russian Roulette.

You loaded the chamber…

“All for just two little pills. So?”

Spun the barrel…

“What do you say?”

And pulled the trigger.

“Please, Daddy?”

And with those two whorish words, he snapped. Joel grabbed you by the wrist and slammed you into the brick wall behind him. You gasped in shock and winced in pain. It happened so fast, you barely had any time to think about the mistake you’d just made, but before you could choke out an I’m sorry, his lips were on yours. You moaned into the kiss and he snarled into it, slobbering all over each other in a fit of lust.

“Bratty little fuckin’ queer. So you’re saying you have a cunt, huh, boy? No bullshit?” Joel sneered as he shoved his hand between your legs. He grabbed your crotch and squeezed it tight, delighted to find no bulge, nothing in his way but a few layers of clothing. “Ooh, damn, kiddo, guess you’re right. Ain’t you fuckin’ special…” He let your wrist fall so he could grab your jaw. “Open,” he commanded, and your lips obliged. He spat into your open mouth, and then his lips were back on you.

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his back, eventually clutching his hair and his shirt for lifelines. The second you’d laid eyes on this guy, you knew he’d be a good fuck, and you couldn’t believe your luck. That monumental gamble you took just now had won you the jackpot, and now it was time to bask in your victory.

Joel grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you out of the kiss. “You want your fuckin’ pills, cuntboy?”

“Yeees…” That was why you originally came to him, yes, but now you wanted a whole lot more.

“You want those fuckin’ pills?”

“Yeees, yes, I wan-em…”

“Say please.”

“Pleeease…”

“Please, what?”

“Pleeease, Daddyyy… P-Please, Daddy, I wan- I wan’ the pills…”

“You gonna suck your Daddy’s cock for ‘em?”

“Y-Yeees, Daddyyy…”

“So do it.”

Joel dropped you and let you stumble onto your knees in front of him. You rocked back and forth impatiently as he undid his belt and fished his cock out of his jeans. As you suspected, it was massive, flushed an angry shade of red, and throbbing painfully. He gave it a tantalizing stroke, peeling back the foreskin and pulling it taut on the rebound. You licked your lips at the precum leaking from its slit, waiting for his instruction.

“Open,” He demanded once more. You acquiesced, opening your mouth wide enough for him to stuff his cock in your throat. He let out a deep, husky, growl as he slid down your airway. “Yeahhh, that’s it… That’s it, kiddo…”

Even in your dickdrunk, cockgagged haze, you could guess what was coming next. In preparation, you braced yourself with your hands on his hips, and relaxed your throat as best you could for him to fuck it. Turns out, your intuition was right.

“Fuck, yeah, fuckin’… Fuckin’ choke on it, whore… Choke on Daddy’s cock.” He grunted, grabbed your hair, and held you still while he thrusted into your mouth unforgivably. Tears, snot, and drool were running down your face in no time, and Joel was loving it. “Aw, look at that, yeah, good boy…”

You whined reflexively at the praise, accidentally sucking some spit into your windpipe and choking you in a less sexy and more dangerous manner than intended. Your eyes bulged open and you slapped his thigh twice, tapping out. Thankfully, he got the hint and let you go.

You coughed up the spit and smacked your own chest to clear your airway. “Sorry… Wrong pipe…”

“Take your time.” Joel replied, “Not try’na kill ya.”

Once you could regulate your breathing and you were sure you weren’t at risk of death by blowjob, you got back to work, at your own pace this time. You had the chance to explore him. Stroking and squeezing his shaft and his sack, fluttering your tongue underneath his tip, licking long stripes from the balls to the head. Less force, but no less intensity.

“Ngh, little faggot sure knows his way around a cock, don’t he?” Joel snickered and ruffled your hair. “So good at this, I would’a never believed you don’t got one yourself.”

True, you may not have been blessed with a cock attached to you, but you’d gotten plenty inside you. Not exactly your hometown, but familiar terrain nonetheless. When you felt like you could, you swallowed his length whole, swiping your tongue along his balls as you gagged. Joel threw his head back and moaned into the air, and then, you rode him with your throat again.

“Fu-u-uck, oh, shit, yeah… Yeah, you suck Daddy’s cock… Suck your old man’s cock for pills, and you’ll get ‘em, son... You’ll get ‘em, you fuckin’ junkie.”

You’d honestly forgotten this was about pills. You just got so caught up in the love of the sport, it had totally slipped your mind. Though dangling the carrot of oxies in front of your spit-drenched face was as good an incentive as any, and despite the burning in your windpipe, you sucked him with more power, more speed, more emotion, and more determination. You could taste victory leaking and throbbing on your tongue.

“F-Fuck… I-… I can’t…” Joel’s face was a picture of overwhelming pleasure. He had to pull you off. His wet, pulsating cock popped out of your mouth, and he huffed and puffed wiping sweat from his brow. “As much as I’d like to dump a load in your stomach…” He nudged his boot in between your legs, right up against your burning cunt. “I need to see your specialty, first.” He extended a hand to help you off your knees, then when you stood, hugged you to him and spanked each of your ass cheeks, jiggling them both as he gave his next order. “Take off your pants and bend over. Let Daddy see that pretty kitty of yours.”

You giggled, a goofy, stupid slutty smile on your face, and nodded. “Hehehe, okay… Okay…” You unbuckled your pants and let your jeans drop to the dirt. You stepped out of them and kicked them aside. You turned 90 degrees, put your hands on the brick wall, and stuck your ass out to Joel. He took his place behind you, grabbed your ass, and spread you open to take a peek at your holes. You shivered as the cool breeze ran over your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, I can’t even remember the last time I saw a cunt like this…” Two of his fingers traced your slit then spread your lips, exposing yourself even more to him. He chuckled when he saw your dick piercing. “‘Specially not one with these fancy hood ornaments.” He couldn’t resist the urge to tug on the jewelry.

Naturally, your knees buckled beneath you and you slid down the wall. “A-Ah!” You squeaked, “F-Fuck! S-Sen-Sensitive!” You tried to warn him, but really you were showing off your weak point with the conspicuousness of a video game boss fight.

“Oh, yeah?” Joel scoffed and supplemented it with a smack on the ass. You could feel him kneel down behind you, and he said, “Good.”

And then his lips were on your t-dick and sucking it like a leech.

You had to scream, bad, but it was broad fucking daylight and FEDRA could show up at any second. Instead, you bit down on your hand, sinking all the energy into your teeth as your body collapsed in on itself. Before long, your cunt was dripping down into his mouth, so much so, that there was an audible splash when his lips let you go.

“Christ, you’re a mess. Gonna ruin my fuckin jeans, ‘f I don’t take ‘em off.” Joel stood up and out of his own pants then tossed them beside yours. You heard some more rustling of clothing, felt a swipe up your pussy, then a tap on your lips with wet fingertips. “Open,” he instructed yet again.

You opened your mouth to lick and suck at his fingers, or so you thought. Instead, they pulled away and gagged you with one of your own hankies. Judging purely by the texture, you deduced that it was the trans flag. You relaxed and let him tie the gag more comfortably.

“There.” Joel said, patting you on the ass affirmatively. “Now I don’t gotta worry ‘bout you bein’ a fuckin’ screamer.” Two strong hands took your hips and lined him up with his target. You could feel his head prodding, but not breaching your hole. “Ready?”

You bit down on the gag and nodded feverishly at him. He poked your hole once, then twice, then started to push in and ohmyfuckinggodhe’shugeimeanyouknewthatalreadybutfuckitfeelsbetterthanyouthoughtitwould.

Without the ability to articulate any of those words, you whimpered through the gag and clawed at the wall like a cat trying to get in the bathroom.

“Biiig stretch, kiddo, that’s it…” Joel groaned, “That’s a good boy… Daddy’s almost in…”

Almost in? What the fuck did he mean by-ohshitthatswhatthefuckhemeantbyalmostin… He was so fucking thick that the stretch nearly burned, and long enough to feel like he was excavating your pussy to make room for himself. It was mind-numbing how big he was. He took up not only all the space in your cunt but in your brain as well. You’d never had someone dig so fucking deep.

“There you go, nice and full.” He leaned down to kiss your neck and pin your wrists together above your head. “Daddy’s perfect little cocksleeve…”

He withdrew his hips, practically taking your cunt with him on the way out since it refused to let go, and then speared his cock back into you. His thrust was a shockwave that rocked through your whole body. You let out a garbled moan into the spit-drenched fabric each time he did it. Eventually, he had a steady tempo going.

“Nghhh, so fucking tight… Real fuckin’ tight for a whore. And you’re fuckin’ soaked…” He gave your ass another swat, then stopped moving for a moment. “C’mon, slut, fuck yourself back on your Daddy’s dick. Ride your Daddy’s dick, now-yeahhh, that’s it…” He purred as you started to bounce your ass on him. For a little extra encouragement, he reached out to pet your hair. And for some guidance and a little extra oomph, he slammed his hips forward in time with yours, making his cock hit you twice as hard. “That’s a good boy…”

It was unbelievable, almost intolerable how good he felt. You almost couldn’t bear the thought of fucking any of your regular clients ever again. This was a Flowers for Algernon-type dicking, the absolute pinnacle of nasty sex for just a little while, and you’ll spend the rest of your sex life downhill from here. You’d like to hope that wouldn’t be the case, but none of the other dick you’d gotten in the past could even compare.

And it all stemmed from asking for a front on some oxies.

Joel reminded you of that when he said, “Next time you’re needing a front, I’ll-ngh… I’ll make you work for it, whore… Take you home and fuck you in the ass instead… Let you scream as loud as you need to… Let that little pussy weep for me and it’s gettin’ nothin’… You want some painkillers, then you gon’ hurt for ‘em, son…”

Honestly, the idea of a ‘next time’ had you excited regardless of what hole he wanted to bust open. If you were lucky, maybe it’d be out of mutual enjoyment rather than an exchange. Soon, he struck that special spot inside you, that inner button that has you seeing stars and screaming obscenities into the flag gag. Your hands balled into fists and pounded at the wall. It was getting to be too much to bear. Of course, with your flag in the way, your cries of Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna come! sounded as, “Auck! Auck! Ah gah-ah cah!”

Luckily, Joel spoke fluent slut. “You’re gonna cum? Gonna cum for your daddy?” He knotted his fingers in your hair and yanked you up against his chest. He shoved you both forward until you hit brick, and without an inch of space for you to squirm, he rutted into you relentlessly. “Then do it, slut. Cum on your daddy’s cock. Daddy wants to feel his little man cum all over him.”

God, how could a sentence be so nurturing and so nasty at the same time? So sweet and yet so fucking sick? Regardless of Sigmund Freud screaming ‘I told you so’ somewhere in your head, you came buckets, splashing Joel’s thighs with pussy juice on his every thrust. Your legs gave out around the fourth or fifth gush, and Joel had to hold you up for him to finish.

“Fuck, yeah, keep coming, keep coming, baby, Daddy’s close…” Joel groaned. Every word he said grew more vile and more primal than the last. His only need was to breed. “Daddy’s gonna knock you up, son… Gonna dump some brothers and sisters into ya… ‘N’ you’re gonna fuckin’ take it… Ngh, gonna take my fuckin’ load in ya ‘cause you’re a little cumdump pussyboy whore… ‘S what you’re meant for-shit… Shit!”

He squeezed your body tight and growled into your ear. Hot spurts of his cum flooded your battered cunt. On any other occasion, you’d cringe at some rando calling his load your siblings, but it just felt so good. You couldn’t give less of a fuck what he called it. And it’s not like he was your actual father. He was committing to the bit, a bit that had you mewing and sobbing with pleasure and repressed emotion, but that was a problem for your therapist later.

The world went still as you both came down from orbit. The rest of the QZ didn’t exist in that moment. It was just you and your “daddy”, a man twice your age that you trade drugs with and who just busted a nut in you. Honestly, still a better father figure than most. Closest thing to a dad you had for damn sure.

You felt that paternal vibe from him as he kissed the side of your neck. “You okay, little guy?” Joel asked tenderly. He untied the gag and tossed the flag by your jeans, letting you answer him.

“Mm… Mhm… I’m okay…” You stuttered, still counting on his grip to keep you standing.

“Good boy.” A few quick pecks to your neck and he slipped out, a few drops of his kids pooling in the dirt below you. “Now get dressed. I got shit to do.” He demanded with a final slap on your ass.

You stumbled over to your pants, leaning onto the wall to guide yourself. Even after dressing himself, Joel got to them first, and held them out for you to step into.

“Yeah, there you go, kid. You’re okay.” He cooed, and then clapped you on the shoulders to get your attention. Your head snapped up to see him reach into his pocket and pull out a plastic bag wrapped in tinfoil. He fished out two white pills and gave them to you, just as you agreed to.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it,” You gave him a shy smile, feeling grateful for the front and the frenzied faux-father-son fucking he just bestowed upon you. “Oh, and, uh… I… I had a good time, s-so if you ever wanna-“

“I’ll see you Monday, kid.”

#i am UNWELL #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #tlou x reader #tlou smut #what the FUCK do i tag this #dd/lb #daddy k!nk #slurs

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gfcheol · 2 years

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late blooming pt2 | j.wonwoo

pairing: wonwoo x f!reader

genre: slowburn, sugar baby!au, smut

word count: 5k

tags: emotionally constipated trustfund kid!wonwoo, snarky roommate!jeonghan, food ment, insecure artist!reader, fingering, making out, jealous!wonwoo, miscommunication, angsty ending

tag list: @bangchanbabygirlx , @amiga-qmilagraso , @listxn , @bloomyroses , @yoozuku, @revluv909 , @laylasbunbunny , @thinkinboutwonu , @springdaybreaks , @97-liners , @weakforsvt

In those two weeks, since you'd agreed to let Mr Jeon Wonwoo financially take care of you, you'd learned three things about him.

One - He'd gushed about every cat picture or meme you'd sent to him, commenting on the pretty fur or the shape of their triangle ears. During one phone call, you even got him to meow for you. You'd laughed almost a solid minute at the sound of his dark voice, clearly enunciating a very lifelike "meow". If only you had thought of recording it.

Two - He loved to read. You weren't really sure about which books were to his liking but everytime you'd mentioned an author you'd liked, he'd tell you he was either familiar with their work or had read their work as well. It was difficult, to say the least, not to feel intimidated by his intellect, though you didn't mind as much once you'd realized that, even though he already knew so many literary works, he still listened quite intently to your opinions on them.

And three - He asked a lot of questions.

It was almost embarrassing, in hindsight. How much you were willing to tell him, about your upbringing, weird food habits you'd developed as a child, about the time Mingyu and you got food poisoning from your favourite fast food place, back in college. It felt easy to confide in him. Your own personal confession booth. Wonwoo was a good listener and despite leaving snarky comments here and there - there was understanding laced in his every word, making it hard not to fall deeper into conversation with him. Maybe, just maybe, it had helped that all of these talks happened, while you were on the phone with him, either on your way from work or tucked in bed.

"It's probably bad timing", he had sighed, "but I'll have to leave the country for a week. It's purely out of formality, although necessary. Or so I've been told, at least."

His explanation had seemed sincere enough, a tired smile playing on the edge of his lips, yet you couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment from you. Selfish desires be damned, you actually hoped to spend time with the man who'd provide you with money for whatever reason. It still felt somewhat strange to you, no matter how rational he had been while explaining his intentions with you, the skeptic in you was hard to please.

You'd only shaken your head in response, your "No, it's fine! I hope you'll still manage to have fun", sounded insincere even to your own ears, though Wonwoo had enough courtesy not to mention it.

You hadn't quite expected him to still try to stay in touch, thinking his hectic schedule would suffice in keep him busy. But apparently, Wonwoo had a tendency to defy your expectations about him. His first text had comee as a surprise to you, your eyes almost bulging out of their socksts, as you sat slumped and exhausted in the driver's seat of your car. Work had been the usual hell, customers and colleagues robbing you of every nerve you had left until they left you a complete shell of yourself - Not like you hadn't been used to it.

[Wonwoo J - 17:55] Are you as bored as me?

You had blinked several times, mind feeling a bit too numb, attempting to remember that, yes, this was indeed The Jeon Wonwoo, billionaire, business man, and art snob, texting you oh so casually.

[y/n - 17:56] more like tired rip just got done working

[Wonwoo J - 17:57] Oh? Hope I didn't interrupt anything

[y/n - 18:00] literally sitting in my car rn lmao

[y/n - 18:01] gimme 15 and then i'm free to chat

You remembered rushing home, quick to brush Jeonghan's half hearted greeting off, ready to lock yourself in your bedroom and panic an appropriate amount before calling him back. Though in the end, all panic had ebbed away the second his tired voice muttered your name in greeting, at the other end of the line. And despite your worries, it'd felt so natural to share your day with him - His faint laugh, whenever you'd complain, proving to be your very own remedy against bad moods.

Maybe he'd merely been polite this whole time, your insecurities were quick to point out. A cynical viewpoint for sure, but not unrealistic. Not impossible.

It'd be so easy to drop all caution, to ignore every bad experience and disregard every hurtful comment ever thrown your way by previous romantic partners. It'd be so easy to trust the silly old fashion emojis he sent your way, or the way his laughter grew louder everytime you gasped out in mock offense to any of his jabs. It'd be so easy to let your heart ache at every whispered goodnight you'd mumbled into the speaker of your phone. But easy was naive. You weren't a teenager anymore, you knew better or were supposed to at least.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Hmm, Episode IV. Easy question. Obi Wan might be hot but he doesn't beat childhood nostalgia. Next question."

"Obi Wan hot? Questionable. Hey, how come you're not tired yet? I thought you said that your shift was draining 'as fuck'."

"Why do you have to remember everything I tell you, oh my godddd. You know what, I change my mind, guys who only pretend to listen get a bad rep."

"You just don't want me to point out that you should stop rambling about Star Wars and catch some sleep."

"Not my fault that we're not in the same timezone right now, Mister. C'mon, ask me another question."

"Fine... Have you always been this difficult or do I get special treatment from you?"

"... Wonwoo, I hope you know how lucky you are that you're not within fighting distance."

"Aw, I was hoping you'd get so huffy, you'd hang up and finally rest."

"You're mean."

"And yet you're still insisting on talking to me."

"AND a smug bastard."

"Goodnight, y/n. I'm... looking forward to talking to you tomorrow. I'm uh- enjoying our talks."

"Oh. Y- yeah, same. I mean- goodnight to you too."

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jeonghan's form was draped across the couch, arm covering his eyes to shield him from the intrusive rays of sunshine that dared to tickle his oh so sensitive face. The apartment lay in comfortable silence, a rare occurrence these days but not unwelcome. You aimlessly scrolled through your phone, enjoying the luxury of being lazy on one of your rare off days.

Usually, it wouldn't be you who'd have to suffer because of Hannie's tendency to take up too much space. It'd become quite normal to see his current conquence and him lounging on the couch, limbs, as well as lips, entangled in a disgustingly open display of love. You'd roll your eyes, questioning yourself, if you'd ever been as bad as him, while you were with any of your exes. You shuddered at the mere thought of them. The past was the past for a reason, wasn't it? You should know this by now.

"Wanna watch a movie today?", you asked absentmindedly, eyes still glued to the colorful pictures of your screen - Pinterest truly was a rabbit hole to get lost in.

Your roommate barely reared his head. "Only if i get to pick. Sick of watching Pride and Prejudice over and over with you."

A groan. "Fine... No movie then." Giggles erupted out of you when you felt Jeonghan's foot digging into your side.

"Is your sugar daddy not gonna call you today?" You felt the heat in your face rise at the teasing edge of his voice. "Or are nudes enough to get him to shut up?"

Your head perked up, your tone quiet "Nudes?"

"As in 'sexy pictures to help him beat his meat on his sexy man business trip'?", Jeonghan raised his arm to glance you up and down.

For some reason, it had never even crossed your mind that this very adult man with adult needs would desire - well - adult pictures from you. You were simply too enthralled by the sweet words thrown your way, that the skeptic within your mind forgot to remind you that this was not, in fact, a normal relationship. Money and talent and contracts were involved in this. And while a large part of why Wonwoo felt drawn to you, must have been your potential as an artist, there was very likely sexual interest as well. Embarrassment simmered in the depths of your stomach, groaning into the air. "Oh fuck."

"Wow, you've never even sent him a sexy selfie or something?"

"Well, it never really came up in conversations!", you squeaked, voice too nervous, too shrill to sound rational.

He pushed himself off his cozy, little spot on the edge of the sofa, a grin now evident on his features. "You guys don't flirt?"

"You know what?", you narrowed your eyes at him, shoving his leg away from your side. "Single you fucking sucks! At least your girlfriends all liked it when you were being an absolute dick to them. Now you just kinda- inflict it all upon me. I can't help it that you're bored without a girlfriend!"

The dig didn't seem to affect him much, the sheer Schadenfreude he felt was enough to brush off your insult. How in the living hell did he always have the upper hand in every argument you guys had? Your leading theories were either A) he had enough practice in torturing his little sister and was happy enough to treat you the same way or B) he was one of Lucifer's very own lackeys. Your money was on theory B. One of these days, you'd find the portray he'd sold his soul for in order to stay young and live out his hedonistic lifestyle - Oscar Wilde style.

"I'm sure I'd be way less bored, if we could watch a different movie that doesn't star Keira Knightley's angry pout", Jeonghan huffed, raising his brow - and while you knew, this was a mere attempt to get a rise out of you, you couldn't help but gasp in offense.

"How dare you? She's a delight in-", your phone vibrated in your lap, attention shifting immediately to the notification you'd received. Your anger was put on halt as you noticed, it was indeed Wonwoo, who had texted you, offense melting away in an instance. "A sec", you mumbled.

"Oh, he's got you whipped!", he laughed.

Pressing on the notification, you gave him one last exasperated look, lips pressed into a pout, "Hannie, please."

[Wonwoo J - 14:12] Flying back today. Care to have dinner at my place tomorrow?

"Oh." Your heart felt like a young bird, threatening to escape the cage that was your ribcage, beating so loud, you barely reigstered your own reply. You'd met him before - more than once, even! - why were you so fucking nervous? Was this normal? Oh god. "H- he invited me to his place tomorrow."

"Oh fun, spicy second date then?"

"What?! Oh my god, he wants to fuck me?! I- I haven't even shaved in like a month!" You shot up onto your knees, fingers still firmly grasping your phone as you stared down at your roommate with panic in your eyes. "He wants to fuck me, right? This is what this means! Right? Right?!"

"Holy shit, calm down." The way his tone remained basically unbothered, only added fuel to the whirlwind of thoughts coursing through your brain, a string of whines slipping past your lips.

"What if he wants to fuck?"

"Then he wants to fuck", he shrugged, nonchalant smirk slowly creeping back onto his face. No matter how annoying Hannie could be, his quiet confidence worked wonders on you in times of stress. "You don't have to do anything, geez. If you also wanna smash your bits together, then wear something sexy or something. Didn't your ex get you the tacky lace set for your birthday? If you don't - then don't? He didn't buy you, y/n, you can say 'no', I'm pretty sure he'll live."

This gave you pause. He had a point, a pretty good one even. Nothing explicit had been stated so far, as to what Wonwoo expected from you in your arrangement. There was... an undeniable interest he had you, that much seemed obvious to you - yet the details were fuzzy to you. What was it that had piqued his interest in you? Sure, there was you talent for are - which you'd have to discuss with him again tomorrow evening - but what else was there? A teeny, tiny part of you screamed and begged for it to be romantic interest - though the more rational part within you wasn't quite so sure. He's a man who could have anything and anyone. So why would he require someone like you in his life, if not, for some strange power fantasy that you probably would never really understand.

You let yourself fall back to your previous position, brows still furrowed as you pinched the bridge of your nose in a feeble attempt to calm your approaching headache. The question still stood - Would you want to fuck Wonwoo? All insecurities and feelings of pressure aside, did you want him? He was attractive, that's for sure. There was something special in the way he presented himself, you felt, a bit awkward, a bit stiff, yet still elegant. You liked the way he texted like a man 20 years his senior, liked that he sent you passages of books he'd read, liked his deep laugh. You swallowed.

"Why the fuck do you still remember the lace set Jonah got me?", you grinned, wrinkling your nose at the memory of your ex.

"Because, for some reason, he thought it was necessary to ask me for my opinion. Such a charmer."

You smacked his arm. "And then you guys got me the tacky one? Tsk, you call yourself my friend."

Jeonghan's smirk only deepened. "You mean, you call me your friend. I just kinda let you." Another smack, this time a tad less gentle than the previous one. "Ow- Alright, alright! Put that energy into your hookup."

Moreso a question than a statement, your gaze shifted back to the display of your phone, thumbs hovering over your keyboard. "Shush you", you snickered. "I gotta respond before he thinks I'm blowing him off."

[y/n - 14:27] sounds good xx pick me up from my place?

Wonwoo's reply came in a matter of seconds.

[Wonwoo J - 14:28] Send me your address

[Wonwoo J - 14:28] I'll send my driver to pick you up.

[y/n - 14:30] will do!! have a safe flight!!!

It should be illegal to feel this giddy about dinner plans. Illegal enough for you to be locked up, so you could calmly succumb to your feelings of yearning for a man so incredibly out if your league, it almost hurt. A sigh on your end, "He'll be so disappointed to hear I haven't done any painting while he was gone."

"Eh", Jeonghan chuckled. "I'm sure that won't be the first thing on his mind once he sees you."

♡♡♡♡♡♡

John Everett Millais, you read, tuning out the distinct chatter of your parents' conversing with your father's work colleague. Your seven year old self had been enthralled by the dark hues on the painting you'd noticed above their dinner table. A woman floating in water, hair a soft shade of red, mouth agape, surrounded by water and flowers - you could feel something profound stir inside your gears then. The unknown evoked emotion you had no inkling of yet, though it felt, as if she could pry them out of you just by her presence.

Why was she in the water? You'd wondered to yourself, your dessert that consisted of cheap strawberry ice cream, completey forgotten. And why was she still wearing her dress? Was she a rich lady? A princess maybe? A sad princess who wanted take a bath in a pond? But if she was a princess, then didn't she have a bathtub in her castle?

Maybe the painter, John Something, knew the answer to all the questions that were floating inside your brain, distracting you from the sweet taste on your tongue. Maybe there were secrets only painters knew when they looked upon a scene to capture. You frowned, thinking about your own pictures. While yours gained a lot of praise from your parents, comparing them to the glamour and sadness of Princess in front of you, let a strange sense of disappointment course through your veins.

And you quickly realized - You weren't one to settle for disappointment. There was a drive, inside that bundle of shame you were subjected to. A drive to do better, to improve, to create. A smile crept its way to your lips. Maybe your mother was right to bring you along to the boring business dinner after all.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

You almost jumped at the sound of your phone vibrating with a new notification, nerves already on edge.

[Wonwoo J - 18:02] Should arrive in ca 10 min. I'll see you later.

As soon as you'd received the text, you rushed to the bathroom mirror, reapplying your bold shade of lipstick for the millionth time that evening. Your reflection stared back at you with wide eyes. Would he notice the amount of effort you put into looking effortless?

The drive to Wonwoo's apartment was relatively quiet. His driver had parked directly in front of the entrance to your building, exactly ten minutes after you'd gotten the confirmation, a polite smile graced his lips. It felt a bit too spacious to sit all by yourself in the back, windows tinted black and driver completely silent, focused on the busy road ahead of you. Although, you'd most likely dislike it even more, if he had decided to start a conversation with you - You didn't quite mind, being alone with your thoughts. Fidgeting with the hem of your dress, you listened to the hum of the motor, attempting to drown out the sound of your rapid heartbeat. This would be your second maybe-something-akin-to-a-date... an almost-date. Or did the several phone calls count as something?

"Miss?"

You blinked a few times, turning your head towards the driver, fingers still clutching your dress. "Yes?"

There was a hint of a smile in his tone, as he raised his brows, meeting your eyes through the reer view mirror. "We're here."

"Oh", was your reply, only now realizing how the car had come to a halt, the hum of the engine gone. With heavy legs, you shuffled to open the door. "Thank you so much for picking me up."

He gave you a nod, smile lines appearing around the corners of his eyes. "No problem, Miss. Have a wonderful night."

The calmness of this stranger acted like an antidote to the anxiety poisoning your thoughts, offering a shy smile in return. The kindness stood in stark contrast to the playful harshness your best friend usually soothed you with, though nonetheless effective.

The building was huge, entry halls adorned with minimalistic art, you'd never even seen before. The simplicity of the design, you mused, was too pretentious to admire. The echo of your shoes hitting the marble floor, felt like an intrusion. The gall, the echo sneers at you in your mind, the nerve you must possess daring to trespass. Wealthiness evidently could not buy good taste.

After a dreadfully long elevator ride (and a very awkward coversation with the concierge), you finally find yourself right amidst Wonwoo's four walls. If you could call it that. You weren't quite sure what you'd expected to find - A coffin and a chandelier? White walls and a furniture made of glass? Though reality was far more grounded than one could expect. A row of paintings adorned his walls - some of them modern, some of them clsssics - soft music was coming from, what you presumed to be, his kitchen. It almost seemed... ordinary. You frowned.

"Y/N?", you heard his voice from somewhere out of sight. "Yeah, hi! It's me! The uh- concierge? Let me up, I hope that's okay."

His reply was instant. "Why wouldn't it be? I told him I'm expecting a lady." Your frown melted into a smile at his words. "Come to the kitchen, will you? Dinner's almost done."

Rounding the corner, your ran your fingers through your hair as one last effort to tidy yourself up more. Any confidence you'd tried to muster up prior, faltered at the sight of him. Gone was the usual business suit, traded for a nice black shirt and jeans. You were painfully aware of your contrasting attire, the urge to curse yourself feeling unbearable. His back was facing you, unscrewing a way to expensive looking bottle of wine.

"Hi", you greeted again.

His eyes immediately lit up as he turned to face you, a smile hanging off his lips. "You- Oh, wow." his brows shot up, his long fingers adjusting the frame of his glasses, as if he to check the validity of the image in front of him. "You look-"

"I'm sorry if this is too much? I don't know why I thought, you'd meant like a proper dinner, that's on me", the longer you spoke, the heavier your chest, your brain begging you to shut up already.

Wonwoo merely shook his head, softly laughing. "Well, I'm not complaining, don't worry-"

"Also so sorry I interrupted you, I didn't mean to." A pause followed.

"Hm", he cocked his head to the side, gaze searching your own. His frame, even in casual clothing was just as intimidating as you remembered. "Still so shy and nervous? I didn't expect that."

"I'm not shy-"

"But the evening's still young", he smiled at the appearance of your pout. "And I hope you like take out. I tried cooking one of Mingyu's recipes and it was... not as easy as expected."

Any snarky comment died right on your tongue at his tone. Taking one of the half full glasses located on his marble counter top, you quipped, "Harder than it looks to recreate artistry like that, right?"

He gazed down at you, taking a sip of wine himself. "And you're a great cook then, I assume?"

Without meaning to, your shoulder brushed against his arm, the proximity after all these evenings getting to know him making you dizzier than the alcohol. This is the same Wonwoo, you reminded yourself. The same cat loving, nerdy man you've been talking to all those days. "That's for you to find out next time."

For a blink of an eye you thought you saw his chest rise and shoulders stiffen, though his face remained the same mask of indifference you were used to. You considered this a triumph. "Well uh- I can't wait to find out."

Once dinner finally arrived, korean food made a restaurant you'd never heard of, you settled in his dining room with your second glass of wine of the evening. Deciding to ignore the gnawing question of just how expensive the bottle must have been. The food was way too well prepared to let bad thoughts ruin it either way. Conversation was just as easy as you remembered it. You'd gasp at any teasing remark and he gave affirming nods when you vented about work, art or your very impossible roommate. Though the latter conversation topic never seemed to earn you any smiles.

"And Layla was the...?", his face scrunched up as he tried to remember, leaning back in his chair. "Waitress? She seems sweet from what you've told me, what happened?"

You shook your head, giggling into your glass. "Exactly! What happened!", a sigh. "But he's great. Sometimes that is. When he's not lying to make me look stupid or convince me to do dumb stuff."

"Like what?", he asked, fingertip brushing alongside the glass. You really did hope he had yet to catch you staring at his hands.

You waved him off with a flick of your wrist, groaning at the memory of all of Jeonghan's previous shenanigans. "One time he gaslit me - and yes, it was gaslighting! - into making me do his laundry for a month! A month! I can't believe I fell for it too", you'd bury your face in your hand if you didn't have any makeup on. "He even convinced me to wear all this, can you believe him? Dress, lace set, hairdo-"

"Lace set?", Wonwoo repeated. Your smile dropped in an instant.

"What?"

"You said he made you wear a lace set." It wasn't a question, really. It was a statement the needed an answer. A response, an explanation, a confession. Every fiber of your being stood alert, ready to flee the scene and fling yourself off the balcony if needed.

Your eyes drifted to your empty plate, looking for an appropriate response in the remnants of your kimchi rice. "I did?"

"I'm afraid so." You weren't sure when Wonwoo had left his seat, his long legs looking too handsome as he sauntered closer to you. "Were you hoping on me seeing you in it tonight?", he asked, now only a few steps away from you.

A trap question. He knew your answer already, you were sure. It was the hidden sadistic nature in him that urged you out of your shell and into the humiliation of utter vulnerability. In a last act of defiance, you blinked up at where he stood, not paying heed to the beating of your heart. "Hannie told me to-"

"Since when are you doing what anyone tells you to?" The warmth of his fingers found your cheek. His touch felt electrifying. "If you don't want me to see, all you have to do is tell me. Use your words."

Your breath hitched in your throat. "I... hoped you would."

A smirk spread on his lips, bending down until he was on eye level with you. Licking his lips, his eyes drifted down to yours, an unspoken question lingering between you, before he rasped, "That's what I thought."

He had you on your back, dress long discarded between the couch and the dining room, as you lay there writhing in your underwear, his mouth pressing open mouthed kisses to you neck. The friction of your bra against the silky fabric of his shirt felt almost sinful as his hand reached for your chest, quiet whines slipping past your lips. Whatever you'd hoped for, you'd never have thought he'd actually want you like this. Maybe the alcohol had messed with your brain too much.

"You're so pretty like this", Wonwoo breathed, slipping your panties to the side before he ran his thumb over your clit. A sharp inhale escaped you, body jolting against him in surprise. He smiled into your skin. "Let me hear you."

It felt forbidden to see him still this in control, while you were somewhere between bliss and anxiety. He lay fully clothed on top of you, using his knees to spread your thighs apart for easier access, glasses foggy. You'd almost giggle at the sight. "Fuh- Oh", you gasped, a finger finally sliding into you, wetness coating his hand in the blink of an eye. "Wonwoo..."

A soft laugh. "Yeah?"

"More", you demanded, hips grinding into his steadily moving hand.

"More? Whatever could she mean?" He grinned at your frustrated huff, kissing the top of your lace covered breasts.

"You know!", you grumbled. Or whined. You weren't quite so sure anymore.

He complied to your demands, adding another, long finger, heel of his palm rubbing against your sensitive clit. Moan after moan tumbled from your parted lips, pressure rising in the pit of your stomach with every flick of his wrist. It'd been too long for you to properly relish this moment, pleasure almost too fleeting before even falling off the edge. An artist's curse to live in melancholy and nostalgia.

As your hip brushing against his crotch, he finally let a moan of his own slip, squeezing his eyes shut. The sight was almost too much to bear for you. He looked so handsome like this - cheeks flushed, slightly out of breath. You stared in awe. "Your pussy's so tight", he sighed.

"Won-" a gasp. And with a brush against your spongie spot inside you and the friction against your clit, you let go. Pleasure illuminating your whole body. Wonwoo could swear you shined as bright as any beacon at that moment.

He kissed your lips for the final time, soft and sweet, before he gathered you up in his arms, hugging your fucked out form closet to his chest. "What about you?", he heard you mumble, face buried in the crook of his neck. He only shook his head, reaching for a blanket to cover you with. "I'm tired."

You'd slept surprisingly well on his couch, the fabric of the cushions softer than most of the bedsheets you'd slept in. Though as you stretched out to find the man on your mind, you were met with an empty spot. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, after sex exhaustion and alcohol making your lids feel especially heavy this morning. "Oh fuck", you cursed softly, images from last night flooding your mind. The memories of his lips on your skin, his kisses, his hands... It was way too early to think about all of this.

You rolled to your side, on the search for your phone, a creme colored envelope catching your eye immediately. Careful not to tear the paper, you squinted trying to make out Wonwoo's handwriting.

Last night was lovely. I transferred some money to your account - There's a new art dealer in town. Let's talk soon.

Money. Oh. Yeah, you remembered. This is what this was about, how could you forget? It's an arrangement first and foremost. Your fingers felt numb as you held the piece of paper in the too big, too expensive, too empty apartment of Jeon Wonwoo. Wealthy trustfund kid, CEO to be Jeon Wonwoo. How could you forget?

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #wonu x reader #wonu smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut

671 notes · View notes

solitude4chiron · 10 months

Text

Besties, right?

Miles 1610 x Black!fem!Artist reader

A/n: I know I’m wild for promising y’all this fic and just now dropping it 🤦🏾‍♀️ I had some crazy writers block ngl but I’m back 🙏🏾 I’ll be debating if I want to do a pt.2 for this 🫣

🎧- Love Galore- SZA, Travis Scott

Sometimes you questioned you and Miles’s relationship. Not in a bad way though. He was the sweetest boy you knew, at times he was too sweet, but that was just how he showed he cared. You both had been friends since elementary. Yeah, maybe you shared a kiss under the slide, or used to crush on each other, but you both left that in the past. There was no feelings there anymore..Right?

Millimeters 🙄: “You eat today y/n”

“nah 🥲 I’m sketching rn I’ll eat later”

Millimeters 🙄: “whatchu want for dinner 🤦🏾‍♂️”

“nothing”

Millimeters 🙄: “ight gimme a minute”

He always did little stuff like that, but after he’d always clarify it was in a best friend way, just incase.

Before you could get back to drawing there was a knock at your window, and a boy with a bag of food in his hand.

“Miles I told you I wasn’t hungry.” You said with a bit of a frown on your face. You couldn’t help but feel guilty when people did stuff for you, even if they didn’t mind.

“You said you weren’t hungry but you be lying soo…” He came into your room and closed the window, placing the food on your desk and flopping back on your bed.

“So what’s been up witchu y/n? You still talking to that boy from art?”

“I was never talking to him, we literally just sit next to each other in class.” You shrugged turning your back to him at your desk. He came over your shoulder to look at your sketchbook.

“You know you can take breaks right? Arts supposed to be fun.”

“I know, I’m tryna get this scholarship.”

“You will. Just chill with me for now.” He responded, closing your sketch book and getting his food out of the bag.

You both started eating and talking together, completely ignoring the time. Miles was right though, art had been consuming you at this point. He just didn’t want you to lose the fun in being creative.

“Anyways, I got us some tickets to a concert, guess who?” He looked up at you with a faint smirk and a mouthful of food.

“Miles you didn’t have to.”

“But I did. Now guess.” He responded quickly.

“I dunno? You really didn’t have to though..”

“Oh well, guess you’ll see who when we go on Friday.” He shrugged and smiled. “Just know you’ll love it.”

For some reason the room had a bit of tension in it, you couldn’t put your finger on why, and you wondered if miles felt the same way.

“Who you lookin cute for?” He said quickly, still looking down at his plate.

“Whatchu mean I’m just wearin pajamas?”

“Oh. You just look really pretty.” He said looking up from his plate with a faint smile.

“Mhm, thank you miles.” You chuckled a little, playing with your food with your fork. “Why you really come over here?” You said, looking up from your plate this time.

“What I can’t see my bestie?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“No like…nevermind.” You said shaking your head a bit.

“You said you was hungry so I brung you food.” He shrugged quickly.

You genuinely couldn’t tell if miles had feelings for you or not. Honestly he acted like this to everyone, not on this scale obviously but he was a sweet person. Your brain was scrambled at this point, anybody looking at you could tell you had something on your mind.

He reached for his phone and sighed, the time was 12pm and his mom wanted him to come home.

“I gotta go, it’s getting mad late.”

“I wanted to ask you..nevermind it’s nothing.” You quickly said, sighing a little.

He got up from your bed and leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek.

“Stop overthinking it y/n.” He said before climbing out of your window.

You sat on your desk chair frozen in place. What just happened? What did he mean by that? A heavy sigh left your lips as you fell back on your bed and clutched your pillow in your arms.

A text pinged through your phone before you fell asleep.

Millimeters 🙄: “Hope you enjoyed the food :)”

“Night miles ❤️”

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #across the spiderverse #black reader #miles 1610 #miles 1610 x reader #miles 1610 x black reader #milesmorales x black fem reader #black writers #atsv miles 1610 #atsv miles

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agendabymooner · 11 months

Text

i think he knows ! lando n. x ofc (alessandro sister!writer!ofc)

"he got the boyish look that i like in a man."

summary: nicola alessandro released a novel under the pen name 'grazie nichols' and everyone made sure that the fans are supporting her. lando norris could do anything but be subtle about the things he knew, and the novel's inspo was one of those things.

content warning: possible use of explicit language, appearance of other fictional characters (hearth sisters, lester ricciardo, etc), dirty jokes (no smut), ofc and lando being menaces, ofc being obsessed with lando, fans trying to come up with theories, ofc's account is private (colabebe)

note: (time check: 12:25 am) i'm sorry i dipped out 😭 a lot happened yesterday: i hung out with the guy (it was awkward lol) went to see the barbie movie with my sister then had a sangria after- i was planning to post something when i got home but apparently i'm a lightweight and was knocked out after. let me know what you think!!! anyway enjoy xx

ps. yes the graphics in here are stuff that i made hehe sorry if they're awful but these are just some last minute shit i made xx

masterlist

tagged grazienichols

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, arthurleclerc

user1 new booktok rec??

user2 the grid is literally hyping this up 😭 is it that good

user3 MORE FORMULA ONE BOOKS!!!

user4 my wallet: empty

user5 me rn: trying to determine which driver relates to the man in the book the most 🧐

user6 bets on leclerc

user7 hmmm i think its more like estie? he's giving muse

user8 it could be yuki ???

user9 i agree user6 it's most likely shal bc that man is book bf material

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, danielricciardo

danielricciardo i don't blame them; this book is a bomb ass book 😉 liked by grazienichols

grazienichols 🤪

user1 grazie stop emptying my wallet challenge 🤐

grazienichols 😶 sorry xx

user2 making money just to get to monaco gp- gurl i don't blame you 😭

grazienichols it's getting more expensive as years go on 🥶

f1 monaco gp you say??? 👀

user3 she's making money already just toss the ticket in us broke people's direction 🙃

user4 yeah what she said ^^

tagged charles_leclerc, loricciardo, estebanocon and 7 other people

liked by colabebe, danielricciardo, arthurleclerc

user1 isn't lester pregnant??? why is she bent like that on the 7th photo? 😭

user2 lester can do things us mere humans can't

alex_albon i am appalled liked by lando.jpg

lando.jpg i can't put too much photos sorry lad

alex_albon i'll remember this.

user3 lando fed us with the hearth sisters content at the slides 2, 4 and 6 and i've never felt this loved since my ex <3

user4 gurl 💀 u good

user5 ESTIE BESTIEEEE 😩 i might bust a lil gimme a sec to chill

user6 the sisters in blue 🤤

user7 who's the third photo?

user8 lester's youngest sister, nicola

danielricciardo loricciardo 🤨 what're u doing?

loricciardo protecting baby ric 😳 liked by lando.jpg

lando.jpg by flattening his head? 😟

loricciardo you just reduced my standing time and increased my bedrest time lando.jpg thx

lando.jpg what 😭 what's gonna happen if you're in bedrest? is the baby's head going to inflate back to place??

danielricciardo landonorris lad. that's not how it works.

arthurleclerc colabebe that pink is nice asf

colabebe thank you art!!! nice seeing you!!!

user9 uhhhhh?!!! arthur and daniel's in-law?

georgerussell63 why am i not there??? 🧐

lando.jpg my bad- i didn't really want you to take of your shirt in the middle of the ballroom hall. not really your night tonight mate.

user10 where is toto?!!!

lando.jpg god love him but he already has enough photo taken by his own wife. give others some chance to make it to my jpg account

user10 understood king 🤌

sylvieeford no max?? he really pissed you off 😹 liked by lando.jpg

lando.jpg yeah, and keep on reminding him that. maybe he'd apologize for once 🙄

landonorris posted a story !!!

tagged landonorris

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, nora_alessandro

danielricciardo my favourite italian-british couple (no offense nora but i don't like georgerussell63 that much) liked by colabebe

nora_alessandro 😒😒

georgerussell63 you're not my favourite aussie either mate 😉

landonorris god gave me an equally obsessed gf and i love him for it liked by colabebe

colabebe just him??? 💔

landonorris me when you: 💗😩😳🤤

colabebe ❤️‍🩹

landonorris look at her

landonorris shes so pretty omg whats her @

oscarpiastri your simp looking ass is getting more obvious

colabebe 🤨 not my fault u don't get bitches 🤡

oscarpiastri do you wanna fight or wha 🤬

colabebe i deadlegged you last time and you ate shit so idk if thats even a question

oscarpiastri landonorris ur rat is at it again

landonorris hey man, that's my simp. leave her alone

mateoales throwing up

landonorris ratio + take L + didn't ask

colabebe cry + whine + sob + complain

mateoales you two are so mean when ur together

222 notes · View notes

valeffelees · 2 months

Note

Oh do tell about that snowbaz au of yours 👀

I WOULD FUCKING LOVE TO, thank you so much tumblr user pidgelikethebird (and also my most beloved and loyal companion @drowninginships) for providing me the enrichment i need to survive the winter.

ok gimme a min here to turn my thoughts into comprehensible words. i'm gonna say right now: this post is gonna be a LONG one, but 10 out of 10 scientists agree you should read to the end.

so, if you didn't know, The Beauty Inside is a Korean romcom from 2015, based off an American short film of the same name; the orig short film i linked is an extremely quick watch (only 6 episodes, each one 4-10 minutes long) and i would absolutely recommend it, but the very basics of the premise is that: a man wakes up in his bed on his 18th birthday to find he's in a completely different body than his own, and every day since then, he wakes up as somebody new.

AND OBVS I JUST HAD TO FUCKING SNOWBAZ THAT, which is how my AU, titled In the Many Ways of Loving You, was born:

Simon Snow wakes up every day as somebody new; the only person who knows the truth is Penny, his best friend and roommate, since she's been by his side since it all began ten years ago.

he works on commission as a custom bookbinder—like, he has an Etsy or some shit, i dunno, some kinda online shop where people can commission him in a variety of ways to rebind their favourite books, either by paying extra for Simon to buy the book himself and rebind it from new and send it to them, or sometimes collectors will send their personal copies to him to have him rebind them, and he's very good at it, and N E WAY the point of this is that he has a small bookshop he's been going to regularly for the last eight or so years, because it's close to his and Penny's flat, and where the story begins: Baz is a new employee that just started working there about two weeks ago and Simon has a massive crush on him.

ok, now. day one: when we meet Simon for the first time, he wakes up and he's lovely and blonde and brown-eyed and ok, yeah, i've just made him look like Agatha bc i thought it'd be kinda funny, esp since Agatha's not actually in the fic otherwise.

and Simon has to pick up a copy of some random book from the bookshop today bc someone bought a custom binding of it, so he goes down and, as usual, since it's his job, Baz has to come over to talk to him and is like, "hey, can I help you with anything?" and Simon doesn't need any help bc he's been coming to this shop for years, but every time Baz asks he says yes bc he wants the excuse to talk to him, and on this day Simon is like, wait. i'm so hot rn. so he asks Baz out—

and Baz is like [finger guns] absolutely not.

and Simon is like 👁️👄👁️ welp i'm in fucking agony.

but whatever, fine. a guy like Baz is prolly already in a proper relationship, and it's always a bad idea for Simon to get involved with someone he has to see on the reg. he had to start going to a different coffee shop that's twenty minutes out of his way bc he went out on a great date with one of the baristas at his old spot and then obvs couldn't go out again after just that one time, and it made him super emo, so really, Baz saying no was prolly for the best.

TIMESKIP, it's been a few days and Simon has to go down to the bookshop again. but this time he's a bloke. and so Baz comes up to ask if Simon needs help and he says yeah, as usual, and the two of them end up having a bantery convo about the book Simon's looking for bc they've both read it and Baz hated it, but Simon loved it, and it's just very cute and casual, and then Baz is like. so, my shift ends in liiike... four hours. are you doing anything?

and Simon is like. OH. OH!!!

that whole "it's prolly for the best" thing? yeah, fuck that, that was Simon of the past, he doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about bc cute bookshop guy wants to hang out and so they go out and have the most fucking insane romcom date ever.

'cause you gotta remember, Simon only gets one real day with people, so he doesn't do like casual coffee dates or movies or whatever. they go out and like fucking B&E a museum after hours bc Simon knows someone like the janitor or something (i dunno) leaves one of the back doors unlocked so he can step out for a cig every few hours, so they sneak in and have the time of their life running around looking at art while trying not to get caught, and we're going to use the suspended disbelief bestowed upon us by the power of romcoms to pretend security cameras aren't a thing, and it is BRILLIANT. like, Simon and Baz have so much chemistry, and when the night ends Baz is just like all smiles and creased eyes and messy black hair and, breathlessly: "I want to see you again."

and Simon's heart drops. because he wants to see Baz again, too, but he can't. no matter how much he wants to, he can't. when he wakes up tomorrow he's going to be someone new, so he can't, he can't, he can't, he—

"Yeah," he says. "Tomorrow?"

SIMON NO!!!

"It's a date."

FUCK!!!

ok, so now we have a problem. Simon can't just stand him up, i mean he could but he doesn't want to, and he really does want to see him again, so he does the only thing he can think of: he stays awake. all fucking night.

Baz, the next day: "You look exhausted."

Simon, wired asf on caffeine and trying to be smooth: "Had someone on my mind all night."

and then they go have another wicked date, but i have nothing in my notes about what it is. oh, i have them living in Canada in this fic btw bc as a rule, if a fic doesn't have to be set in England, i move them to Canada for comfort. so i might have them go cliff jumping or something? who knows. we'll go with that for now.

cue the romcom montage.

[mother tongue starts playing SO DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME FALA AMO, JUST LET YOUR HEART SPEAK UP AND I'LL KNOW]

ok. post-date. Simon is so dumb and infatuated with Baz and does something only a boy who is dumb and infatuated and sleep-deprived would do in his situation, and he goes back to Baz's flat with him to "watch a movie", or in other words: the movie starts and then they prolly have sex, but in my notes this is written as "??? smash ???" so i guess it's kinda up in the air.

either way, Simon passes the fuck out at Baz's place bc he was properly exhausted by that point, and he wakes up to Baz screaming at him bc obvs he looks like a different person now.

Simon, half-asleep: [PANICKED FLAILING] BAZ IT'S ME!!! STOP THROWING THINGS!!! BAZ!!! IT'S ME, IT'S SIMON!!!

and Baz is like: WHAT THE FUCK

and Simon is like: I CAN EXPLAIN

and Baz is like: HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE

and Simon is like: I CAN EXPLAIN!!!

so, here's a detail from the orig film that comes into play here: in the orig movie, the MC keeps a video diary, logging every day what his face looks like, and in this, Simon does this on his phone and backs them up to his computer every hundred days, so he gives Baz his phone and tells him the whole story while Baz scrolls through these short like minute long videos of Simon on various days going, "Hey, this is me today. I have [this and such] thing to do, blah blah blah."

and the thing is, Baz recognises him in some of them. bc Simon is always coming into the bookshop. he stops watching when he gets to the day Simon looked like Agatha, and Simon has been quiet for a while at this point, just letting Baz process.

Baz: "I want you to leave."

Simon takes his phone without a word and goes. Penny picks him up on the corner a block over and drives him back to their flat. she doesn't ask what happened. she already has a pretty good idea.

when Simon's next commission comes in, he thinks about going to another bookshop, he really does. but this one is so convenient, esp since Simon can't drive bc he can't risk getting pulled over carrying a licence that doesn't have his face on it, and he's been going there for eight years and it's not like Baz will recognise him anyway.

so, to the bookshop he goes, but this time when Baz comes up to ask if he needs help, Simon is like, "haha, no that's okay," and goes back to looking for things on his own, and Baz kinda lingers awkwardly for a moment before going on his way, but then when Simon comes up to the till to pay for the book, Baz just stands there staring at him. and Simon is so uncomfortable, like, he just wants to leave—

"Simon?"

SORRY, YOU WHAT?

"What?" Simon gapes at him. "How did— how did you? But I'm—"

"Can we talk?" Baz asks.

"How did you know it was—"

Baz shouts over to the other employee on the floor that he's taking his lunch break, and Simon just slowly follows him out of the shop with the book forgotten, unpaid for, at the check-out.

and here's the deal, Baz liked Simon a stupid amount considering they'd only gone on two dates, but they were good dates, and Baz doesn't date much, so he's a bit hung up on just how much he liked Simon and the weird way shit ended, so he's basically like. i want to see it again. and Simon is like, see what? and Baz is like, you. the... whatever that you do, i want to see you change.

and that's how Simon ends up bringing Baz back to his flat, and btw: Simon has a rule about never bringing people back to his flat bc it's weird as fuck. his room is really tiny, and it's cluttered as fuck in a Howl's bedroom type way. he keeps to the same cheap, casual style for all his clothes, but he needs things in a bunch of sizes. shoes are a nightmare. he has to take care of his hair in a million different fucking ways. so he has the lives of a dozen people shoved into a room the size of a shoebox, and his mattress has no frame. that shit is just on the floor, so it takes up less space. and there's this mirror, a wide full bodied mirror, propped up against the wall facing the bed, so that the first thing Simon can do each day is roll over and look at himself.

Simon and Baz have supper together, they talk, they pretend this isn't weird as fuck and, even though it is weird as fuck, they still have so much chemistry, and this is a fanfic, so they just end up having sex again but it's supposed to be kinda emo and tender and look, it's what my heart wants, ok?

morning comes. Simon wakes to Baz's hands on his face. which is already and improvement compared to last time. Baz is looking at him very seriously, but also very like. softly. he's touching Simon's features, tracing them, and Simon is quiet for a very long time, watching him do this, until he's just like. what are you doing.

Baz: "Getting to know you." A pause. "Why does it happen?"

Simon: "I don't know."

Baz: "Are there other people like you?"

Simon: "I don't know."

Baz, sighing: "Well, what do you know?"

Simon: "That I'm still me. Inside, I mean. Like... if you had a book, and every day you gave it a new cover, the story wouldn't change."

Baz: "You must get lost on a lot of shelves."

Simon: "Yeah."

and from there, Baz is just a part of Simon's life the same way Penny is, he knows the truth, and he deals with it. for the first time in Simon's adult life, he gets to really date. he and Baz do a bunch of domestic shit together, for months, and it's so good. all of it is so good, all the time, and they fall so fucked up deep in love with each other.

(detail from this point that is relevant later: Baz and Simon make a game out of Baz recognising Simon at work on days when he hasn't seen yet what he looks like. Simon will come in and try to act like a stranger, but Baz can Where's Waldo him every time.)

but then Christmas comes. and Baz has to go home to see his family. and i don't have an exact idea of how this convo goes, only that it is not a fight of any kind, like, it is a normal convo about the holidays but Baz apologises to Simon during it for not telling his family about him, he says they'd want Baz to bring Simon home if he did (bc i just don't wanna fuck with homophobia in this so we've shot Malcolm with the ally beam) and he wouldn't know how to explain Simon's whole... thing to them, and Simon kinda realises that like. he can't ever be the type of boyfriend Baz can bring home to his family. he can't ever be the type of boyfriend Baz gets to have a normal life with.

SO SIMON GHOSTS HIM.

like, Baz comes back from his family's place, annoyed that Simon hasn't returned any of his texts or calls, only to find that Simon and Penny have literally fucking moved flats in the two weeks he's been gone. and obvs he's fucking devastated and confused by this and desperately trying to get Simon to respond to him, but he won't.

Simon goes out of his way to find a new bookshop to go to, and that's the end of things for about a week or so, and i haven't actually decided what happens here exactly, but the general idea i wanna go with is that Simon goes to the bookshop Baz works at just for the sake of seeing him, checking up on him, bc he misses him.

but remember that game they played? so yeah, Baz walks up to say his usual like, "hey, can I help you find anything?" but he fucking clocks Simon after like ten seconds.

scene change: they're in Simon's new flat, like maybe Baz demanded that if Simon is going to break up with him he owes it to him to do it goddamn properly, but i dunno. details, details. but they end up getting in a huge fucking fight and Simon reveals the reason he ghosted Baz was bc he realised Baz can't have a real life with him and Baz is like:

"You don't get to decide that for me! You're still you, you're still lovely—"

"You don't even know what I look like!"

"I don't care what you look like, you fucking moron, I care that you're Simon Snow! There's a person inside you that exists every day, even when everything else changes, and he's lovely. I love him. The rest doesn't matter, how can you not see that? Stop telling me I'm not allowed to love you however you are, I'll love you a hundred different ways, Simon. Any size, any shape. I'll love you over, and over, and over. That's a life for me. A real life for me. You!"

and then Simon throws his arms around Baz's neck and hugs him like he needs him to breathe and Baz clings to his shirt and they're both prolly crying all loud and gross, but it's fine. they're gonna be fine.

the next day: Simon wakes up to Baz's mouth on the back of his neck. "Like this one, then?" he says.

"Loveliest yet." Baz brushes his knuckles over the slope of Simon's shoulder. "Freckles, curls, broad shoulders... Mmm, maybe we should stay in bed today."

Simon laughs and rolls over to pin Baz to the mattress, grinning at him. he goes to say something, prolly rib at him the way they do, but as he does he catches his reflection in that mirror he keeps by his bed and he freezes.

"Holy shit!" he shouts, and shoves himself up onto his knees. "That's me!"

Baz rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, I told you—"

Simon shakes his head furiously. "No, it's. Baz. I'm. Jesus fucking Christ, that's me. Baz, that's me."

Baz sits up slowly. "Do you mean—"

"Fuck, holy shit!" Simon grabs his curls with both hands. he hasn't touched these curls in ten fucking years. he looks older than he remembers himself, which is a given, but it's definitely him. his father's eyes, his mother's chin. the moles on his cheek, above his eyebrow, below his ear.

Simon freaks out in a way that kinda toes the line between being happy and being a breakdown, he throws himself at Baz, and they both fall back onto the bed and Simon is laughing and he's shaking and he doesn't understand, he doesn't get it, but holy fuck, he has his own face, he has his own body, he has his own hands. Baz pushes them apart so he can get a look at him, and Simon is actually kinda self-conscious when he does, which is a new feeling. he never has to feel self-conscious about anything, usually, since he knows every flaw or insecurity isn't really his, and will be gone the next day, but this is just... him.

Baz takes Simon's face in his hands and then, breathlessly, "Hello, Simon Snow."

AND THEN THEY KISS bc what else would they do here.

and uhh, yeah. so. Simon goes out to the kitchen where Penny is making breakfast and she loses her shit when she sees him. big hugs all around. Baz really does take the day off work to spend it with Simon, even though that just means lying around on the sofa watching movies while Simon works on his current rebinding commission. when Penny gets home that evening, they order takeaway and sit around the lounge room playing boardgames together until late, late, late into the night. Penny falls asleep in the armchair, and now it's 3-am.

Simon is tired. he's looking at the clock, sitting with his knees up and his arms around them, with Baz beside him. Baz has his forehead on his shoulder, an arm around his waist. he doesn't want to go to bed, because what if... what if it was only for today. how long will it be until the next time? what if there is no next time, what if, what if—

"We'll still be here," Baz whispers, exhausted. "And you'll still be you. No matter what, Simon."

and so they go to bed.

Simon wakes up to Baz's mouth on the back of his neck.

"Good morning, Simon Snow."

AND YEAH, that is the entire plot of my The Beauty Inside AU.

i told you this was gonna be a long one, but if you've made it all the way to the end of this mess, thank you kindly again for indulging me!

#ngl i wanted to sign up for the cobb with this fic idea really bad but at the time i wasnt confident i could manage #taking part in a fandom event. i might think about signing up for it next year if it runs again but who knows #thanks for hanging out!#snowbaz #ask #pidgelikethebird

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