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cancerian-woman · 4 months ago
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Netflix template by @bitchronan here and this one here! I wanted to practice for once on bits of an AU I had.
AN: Bonnie deserved more familiar dynamics, especially in season 2 with the Martins around the elder vampires around etc. minor plot changes :)
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Incase the alt-text was hard to read
Transcripts here:
Description: Feeling lonely after Grams' death, Bonnie yearns for the connection of an other Bennett witch. So she summons two of her ancestors.
Starring: Bonnie Bennett, Emily Bennett Beatrice Bennett.
Genres: Drama, Supernatural, Romance
This Program Is: Magical, Heart-Warming and Inspirational
Episode One: Resurrection: Emily and Beatrice come back to life to help prepare Bonnie on defeating Klaus.
Episode Two: Family Ties: Beatrice decides to attend Mystic Falls High along with Bonnie to blend in as a normal student. Emily plots her revenge. [Emily: Do not worry about me, little one. I have my own grievances to settle with Damon Salvatore and Katherine Pierce.]
Episode Three: The Bargain: Katherine strikes up a deal with the Martin witches in exchange for her safety from Klaus and Emily. [Beatrice: Em, I don't trust the Martin Witches. Something is coming. It has to do with Bonnie. I can feel it.]
Episode Four: Witch Business: Bonnie is more determined and stronger than ever to defeat Klaus, finds herself in a tough position. [Bonnie: After Grams' died, I felt so alone and unseen until I had you two. Thank you, Em and Bea for being my family. Looking out for me.]
Episode Five: Concealed Devotion: With Greta out of the way, and his hybrid curse being broken soon. Klaus needed a new witch. Bonnie desired her friends and family's lives safe. Together, an unlikely romance blooms. Which the young witch feels guilty for as her family searches for them.
This was a fun test run💜.
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vanteguccir · 1 month ago
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ㅀㅀㅀㅀㅀㅀSURPRISE PARTY TOUR: BOSTON'S ENGAGEMENT PROPOSAL * MATT STURNIOLO
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SUMMARY :: Where, at the Boston show of the Surprise Party Tour, Matt finally reveals his first solo surprise of the tour: proposing to Y/N.
FEATURING Matt Sturniolo x reader REQUESTED? yes.
WARNINGS :: none.
AUTHOR'S NOTE :: that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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Matt felt like a complete idiot.
Which was honestly fine.
Normal, even.
Because what else are you supposed to feel when you walk into Tiffany & Co alone, camera in one hand, jacket half-zipped, and the literal knowledge in your brain that today’s the day you buy your engagement ring?
The second the glass doors swished shut behind him, he instantly felt underdressed. The place was too clean. Too bright. Too quiet.
The kind of quiet where even your footsteps sound loud, and you’re 90% sure the floor costs more than your car.
"Okay." He muttered, clicking on the small camera in his hand, flipping the screen so he could see himself, waving with his free hand. His messy strands were doing their own thing, and his voice cracked a little. "Hi, uh, so I guess this is happening."
The Tiffany logo glimmered in the reflection behind him, all silver and serious. He turned the lens toward the inside of the store, slowly panning across the display cases that sparkled so hard it hurt to look at them.
Everything was white and silver and pale blue. Velvet chairs. Smooth marble counters. Employees moving around like they were floating, all super polished and weirdly calm, which was the opposite of how he felt.
He found a small table in the center of the room with a modern glass vase on it and propped his camera there using the tiny tripod suction he’d brought.
"I sent an entire email explaining this to the brand and asking for permission to record it. They gave me it. I even brought it printed." He laughed breathlessly, angling the lens to frame the table and the chairs across from it.
Matt sat down and let out a quiet breath, tapping his fingers anxiously on the edge of the table.
He didn’t really know what he was expecting walking in here. Like maybe it would hit him differently, feel more real. But all he felt was this warm weight in his chest and the nonstop loop in his head.
Don’t screw this up, don’t screw this up, don’t screw this up.
A woman appeared after a few moments, dressed in sleek black with a small Tiffany-blue badge on her chest. Her heels clicked quietly as she walked toward him, her smile calm and super professional but not cold.
"Hi there. Matthew, right?" She said warmly.
"Yeah, hey." He stood up awkwardly, then realized she didn’t expect that and just kind of hovered in a weird half-stand before sitting back down.
She smiled kindly.
"I’m Elena. Thank you for coming in today. I've been informed of your plans."
He nodded.
"That's great! Thank you."
Elena let out a soft laugh at how stiff he looked and pulled up a chair across from him.
"Don’t worry. You’re definitely not the first person to come in here with that look on your face. You’re shopping for an engagement ring, yes?"
The words still made his brain stutter. But he nodded.
"Okay, then let's start." She said, already opening a small black folder in front of her.
Matt sat back and rubbed his beard covered jaw. The room felt big. And small. And too real.
"Alright." Elena said, flipping open a tray of sample bands, all lined in rows with tiny cards that probably had words like platinum and cushion cut on them. "Let’s talk about her. What does she like?"
Matt blinked at the rings for a second, overwhelmed by sparkle. Then he focused.
"She actually wears a lot of jewelry." He started, voice calmer now that they were actually talking logistics. "She wears gold more than silver, but like both. And she hates anything super chunky or loud. She's more into the delicate, kinda simple stuff. Like she has these tiny gold hoops she wears almost every day and these little rings that look like... minimalist or whatever."
Elena nodded, already pulling a few bands from the tray and setting them aside.
"This gives us a lot to play with, actually."
"Good." Matt said, nodding. "She also... okay, I don’t know if this helps, but she likes stuff that’s classic but not boring, y’know? She’s not trendy. That sounds kinda corny, but..."
"No, that’s perfect." Elena said, already unlocking another small drawer in the case nearby.
Matt glanced down at all the million options, fingers drumming a quiet beat against the edge as his brain tried to concentrate.
Fuck, he wished his brothers were there.
Chris would’ve made him laugh to calm him down while Nick would’ve asked twenty questions about resale value and the clarity of the stone or whatever.
It was weird doing something this big without them next to him. Like losing your phone and realizing how much you depended on it. He was so used to them being right there in every step.
But not this time.
This was just him.
"Here." Elena said gently, breaking the spiral as she placed a new tray in front of him. "I think we’re getting close."
Matt leaned in, eyes scanning the rings. One stood out immediately.
It was delicate, so thin he almost missed the band entirely. A single oval-cut diamond sat in the middle with six claws holding it in place, no extra flash, no weird shapes, just clean and clear and... her.
He pointed to it, eyebrows lifting slightly.
"That one’s really nice."
Elena smiled like she’d been waiting for him to say that.
"That’s one of our most classic solitaire styles. Platinum band. Oval diamond."
He tilted his head.
"Yeah... she’d actually wear that. Like she’d live in that."
"Exactly." Elena said. "You want something she’ll love now and thirty years from now."
They added a curved matching band that hugged the engagement ring perfectly. It looked like the two rings were designed to never be apart.
Matt stared at them for a second too long.
"Can I- uh... get a second to record this?" He asked, already reaching for his camera and bringing it closer.
He lifted the box gently, showing the rings to the lens and whispering.
"This is the one. I hope you love it."
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The big screen flicked for a millisecond before showing the banner with 'SURPRISE' written in big white letters.
The noise was immediate, and it only seemed to increase when the countdown appeared seconds after, huge and bold across the giant screen. The numbers started ticking down from 5, all in that signature grainy style.
The theater echoed with voices. People clutched their phones tighter. Someone behind Y/N whispered a breathless "Oh my god, it has to be Matt", but she didn’t even register it at first, her eyes glued to the screen.
And then, there he was.
Matt.
Standing in front of a camera, looking directly into it while adjusting his tie.
The crowd lost it.
They weren’t even at fault for their reaction. Six shows had passed through, and Matt wasn't the one bringing a solo surprise in none of them.
Matt smiled at the screams. He stood up from the orange couch on the left, where he’d been sitting shoulder to shoulder with Chris, and grabbed his mic.
The crowd didn’t calm down. If anything, they screamed harder, but there was something about his nervous little laugh that softened everything around it.
He walked to the side of the stage, shoes scuffing the dark wood, and turned toward one of the wooden shelves that were part of the set.
"Okay, okay." Matt said into the mic, voice shaking slightly but still him. "I’m gonna need you guys to chill a little, like, just enough for me to hear myself, alright?"
The crowd laughed but actually obeyed. Kind of.
"I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time." He admitted, glancing out at the audience like they were all his best friends and not strangers in a dark room. "And I’ve honestly never been this nervous before."
He paused.
Looked down.
And without needing to search, his eyes dropped straight to the middle seat in the front row.
Y/N.
There she was, sitting all cute and clueless, smiling so big it almost hurt him. She had that gentle sparkle in her eyes that only came out when she was happy in quiet ways.
She had no idea. Not even close. And God, she was going to freak out.
Matt felt his heart full-on trip over itself.
She was wearing the red and black Ralph Lauren jacket he had used on Philadelphia, and her hands were folded over her legs. She was watching him like she was proud just to see him standing there. Nothing more. Nothing less.
And that made it worse.
And better.
And way harder not to cry.
Chris and Nick were now on the left couch, explaining the dynamics of the live broadcast channel and the hint Matt was going to show to the public.
"Matt." Chris called, adjusting his mic. "We’re gonna be here all night if you don’t open that damn shelf."
The crowd cracked up.
Matt rolled his eyes dramatically to the audience, grinning as he turned back toward the cabinet door.
"Okay." He said, laughing through his nose. He reached out, fingers gripping the cool handle. "Let’s see what the hint is."
He pulled it open.
A ring.
Not the ring.
Just a ring.
It was chunky and bold and totally not bridal. Something from Paula, their stylist. Gold with a flat top, engraved with something random that didn’t matter.
Matt grabbed it and shut the cabinet again, turning around. He made his way back to the couch, but instead of sitting down, he stood in front of his brothers and held up the ring for them to see.
Nick leaned forward.
"What is that? A mafia ring?"
Chris squinted.
"Wait, wait- is your surprise a jewelry line? Are you releasing jewelry for Yesterday's Problem now?"
The mention of Matt's mystery brand made a crazy effect over the crowd, who screamed and begged for it to be about Yesterday's Problem.
Matt raised his eyebrows at the youngest.
"No, of course not." He pressed his lips together in a smug kind of way, then looked over his shoulder to the crowd. "Y’all are so off." He laughed under his breath.
Nick sat back with his arms crossed.
"This is too vague."
Matt ignored him. He tucked the fake ring in his jacket right pocket, feeling it clinking against the hidden velvet box, and finally walked over to the opposite couch.
He sat down slowly, smoothing his jeans and adjusting his mic. And for the first time, he looked up, not at the crowd, not at his brothers, but to the grandstand section near the side stage.
He found them instantly.
His parents. Nate. Mikayla. Sam.
All there. All watching.
Their expressions were... hard to read. Focused. Neutral, but expectant. His mom had her hands clasped near her chin, her brows slightly knit. His dad was still.
Matt swallowed. Looked back to the screen.
"Well, let's see what I did."
And then the video started.
It didn’t come with any fanfare or intro, which already made it so different from the slow builds Chris and Nick did for theirs.
"Okay."
Video-Matt’s voice crackled through the speakers, low and kind of nervous. On screen, the camera shook slightly as he clicked on it and flipped the screen to face him. He waved awkwardly with his free hand, his expression caught between a smile and full-on panic.
"Hi, uh, so I guess this is happening."
A wave of laughter rippled across the theater at how awkwardly he opened the video.
On stage, Chris squinted at the screen, tilting his head.
"Wait, where even is he?"
Matt hadn’t said it, but the massive, gleaming Tiffany & Co. logo was reflected behind him in the video - polished silver letters on a blue-tinted wall.
The moment the logo came into focus, Nick let out a confused noise beside Chris, practically leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
"Is that-"
"Bro, is he in Tiffany’s?" Chris finished, brows furrowed.
Even Y/N blinked in quiet surprise. Her head tilted slightly as she watched Matt on the screen set the camera down on a sleek little table inside the boutique. She’d never seen him even mention Tiffany jewelry. Vivienne Westwood was his thing, silver chains, edgy rings.
But she still smiled wide because he looked nervous as hell.
Matt, onscreen, muttered something about having emailed the brand beforehand to ask for permission to film, even flashing a crumpled printout of the email at the camera.
"I even brought it printed." He chuckled under his breath, clearly trying not to combust from stress as he fixed the frame.
Back on stage, Chris snorted.
"Why does he look like he’s about to commit a crime?"
Nick leaned toward the mic.
"Your surprise is that you stole some expensive jewelry, Matt?"
The crowd laughed again, some people clapping, some just wheezing into their hands.
Y/N was frowning now, eyes glued to the screen. Matt hadn’t looked that nervous since- well, since he asked her to move in with him from Boston to LA years ago.
On screen, Matt sat down at the table, his fingers tapping a beat on the edge like he couldn’t stop moving.
Moments later, a woman walked into frame - sleek black outfit, small Tiffany-blue name tag pinned to her chest.
"Hi there. Matthew, right?" She asked with a kind smile.
Matt stood up too fast and then kind of froze mid-stand like he wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do. He hovered awkwardly for a moment before sitting back down with a stiff, nervous nod.
Y/N laughed quietly, leaning forward in her seat.
"Oh, baby..." She mumbled, her heart just full.
"I’m Elena." The woman said, settling into the chair across from him. "Thanks for coming in today. I’ve been informed of your plans."
On the couch, Nick let out a quiet, "What plans?"
Chris nudged him but was just as confused.
"That’s great! Thank you." Matt said in the video, his voice an octave higher than normal.
Elena smiled, clearly used to this kind of energy.
"Don’t worry. You’re definitely not the first person to come in here with that look on your face. You’re shopping for an engagement ring, yes?"
The theater went silent.
Chris blinked.
Nick sat all the way back into the couch like the air had been punched out of him.
The crowd gasped.
And Y/N... Y/N froze entirely.
Her jaw went slack. Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, twitched.
Did she hear that right?
Chris was the first to react.
"Wait- WHAT?" He half-shouted into his mic.
Nick was still staring at the screen, eyebrows drawn so hard together that they were practically touching.
"She just said- she said engagement- he- what?"
The audience exploded in a mix of laughter, shocked screams, and collective gasping.
Y/N covered her mouth, eyes glued to the screen, heart pounding in her chest so loud it drowned everything else out.
She didn’t blink.
She didn’t breathe.
Her gaze stayed fixed on the boy on the screen, the boy she’d loved quietly, gently, patiently, for what felt like forever, who was sitting inside Tiffany & Co., looking like he was going to throw up from nerves, and apparently about to buy a ring.
For her.
Matt had been planning this.
He had planned this entire thing.
"Oh my god." She whispered behind her hand, her voice shaking with shock and joy and every emotion crashing together in her chest.
Chris turned slowly to look at her from the stage, his mouth slightly open like he was seeing the twist in a movie.
"You knew about this?" He asked, pointing to the screen.
Y/N shook her head so fast it almost made her dizzy.
"How could I know this, Chris?!" She squeaked, the words barely coming out.
Nick blinked rapidly, rubbing his forehead.
"Chris, a wedding propose is supposed to be a secret to the one being proposed."
But Chris still hadn’t recovered.
"A ring, dude. Like... for real. We’re on stage, and he’s proposing?"
Y/N sat back slowly, staring up at the screen like it was made of stars. Her lips trembled, not from sadness or fear or anything close to hesitation, but just from the way her entire soul felt like it was floating.
This wasn’t just a surprise.
This was Matt.
Her Matt.
And somehow, he’d managed to turn an ordinary night into the most extraordinary moment of her life.
The video continued playing, but no one really moved.
The entire theater was still.
Hearts pounding.
Eyes wide.
Waiting for the big moment.
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The last frame of the surprise video froze on the big screen, the tiny velvet box open in Matt’s hand, his voice low and trembling, whispering like a private secret.
"This is the one. I hope you love it."
And then... nothing. The screen went black.
For a second - two, maybe three - the entire venue was suspended in absolute silence. No screams, no gasps, no whispers. Just air. Thick and vibrating with a kind of collective disbelief that made everything feel just a little unreal, like the world had glitched and was still buffering.
Then someone - probably a fan in the front row - gasped out loud.
And the silence cracked.
A mix of choked sobs, happy cries, shocked laughter, and chaotic squeals broke like a wave through the audience.
Mary Lou covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide and glossy. Mikayla had literal tears streaming down her cheeks, clutching the side of Nate's hoodie. Even the tour crew was caught off guard, one of the lighting guys had his jaw dropped like he was about to cry.
Nick blinked rapidly and turned toward Chris, totally stunned.
And then there was Y/N.
She was still seated, her mouth parted just slightly, her eyes wide and blinking slow, like she was trying to make sense of gravity again. Her entire body felt... floaty. Like she wasn’t quite in the room anymore. Like she was watching someone else live her life and was just now realizing that someone else was... her.
Her heart was pounding in her ears, and her hands felt cold and sweaty at the same time. She couldn’t move. She didn’t even breathe.
And then Matt stood up.
Still on stage, in front of the giant screen, with tears in his eyes and his heart practically written all over his face.
He looked at her.
Just her.
And the noise around them blurred into something distant and unimportant. He brought the mic up to his lips, eyes momentarily running from hers.
"Can- uh, can one of you help her up here?" He asked, nodding toward the security guard on the right side of the stage, voice trembling through the speakers.
The crowd seemed to become louder.
Screams. Cries. People clapping and jumping. Y/N could barely process the guard gently approaching her, a soft smile on his face, as he reached out a hand.
She blinked at him.
Then blinked again.
"Come on, sweetheart." Matt said into the mic, his voice cracking. His smile was soft and a little wobbly. "It’s okay."
That’s when her legs finally moved. Barely. But they moved.
The crowd cheered louder as she slowly stood up, holding her shaky hands to her chest, fingers scratching against the glitter of her shirt - the same one that Nick was using.
She followed the security guard to the edge of the stage, the warm lights making everything feel more surreal, more floaty. Like a fever dream she didn’t want to wake up from.
And then, she was there.
Up on stage.
Everything around her was blurry except for him.
Matt. Matt. Matt. Matt. Matt. Matt.
Standing there, eyes glassy, hands twitching like he didn’t know where to put them. He looked like he was holding back a loud cry.
"Come here, angel." He said again, softer this time. Just for her.
She walked toward him slowly. Feet barely touching the stage, everything trembling. The lights, the crowd, the sound, it all disappeared as she reached him and stopped a foot away.
His voice was shaking. His hands were shaking. But when he looked at her, it was solid. Sure. Like there was nothing else he believed in more than her.
"Okay." Matt started, laughing nervously and brushing his fingers under his eye. "Uhm... wow. Okay. So... I had this whole thing in my head. Like, how I was gonna say it. But now I’m just... losing it."
She let out a teary laugh. So did the crowd.
Matt looked down for a second, then back up, voice steadier this time.
"I love you." He said first, like he had to just get that out before anything else. "I love you so much."
Y/N let out a shaky breath. Her hands came up to her mouth, eyes already overflowing.
"You’ve been with me through everything. Everything, Y/N. When I was nobody. When we were filming in our parents' kitchen and only getting a hundred views. When I had zero dollars to my name. When I moved to LA with my brothers and literally lived on hope. You were there."
He sniffled.
"You’ve always been there."
Her whole body was trembling now. She could barely stand straight.
Matt stepped a little closer, reaching out with one shaky hand to hold hers, gripping tight like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
"I’m not good with words. You know that." He said, voice wobbling but warm. "But you- you’re everything to me. You’re the reason I’m even here. Not just like, here here." He gestured around at the stage. "But like- here."
Her lips quivered as she sobbed softly, squeezing his hand.
"I wake up every day, and I can’t believe I get to love you. That you love me back. That I get to see you reading on the couch or ranting about your series or dancing while you brush your teeth. You’re the best part of my day, every day." Another laugh cracked in his throat, wet and breathless. "I brought your perfume with me to Vegas so my shirts smelled like you. That’s where I’m at. That’s how far gone I am."
Y/N let out a choked laugh through her tears, wiping at her eyes, her fingertips coming out black with mascara. Matt laughed too, even as a tear rolled down his cheek.
And then he reached into the right pocket of his jacket.
The room seemed to still again.
He pulled out the small velvet box. Hands trembling.
She bit her lip. A hand flew to her chest.
And then Matt was getting down.
On one knee.
His knee hit the stage softly. He opened the box again, showing two beautiful rings sparkling under the lights, and tried to hold it up while still holding the mic. But his hands were too full.
Chris was already moving before Matt could even think of asking for help. He ran up to them, gently taking Matt’s mic right out of his hand, and held it up close to Matt’s mouth for him.
Matt looked up at his brother, breathless and laughing softly through the emotion.
"Thanks." He whispered, voice cracking.
Chris just smiled his widest smile, his eyes shining with tears, and nodded.
Matt turned back to Y/N, holding up the box in his shaking hands.
"Y/N." He said. "Please, allow me to spend the rest of my life by your side. Will you marry me?"
And it was like the world held its breath.
All she could do was nod at first, crying and covering her face. Then she laughed through her tears and choked out.
"Yes. Yes. Oh my god- yes!"
The crowd exploded. Screams. Cries. Phones held high. Some people literally jumped. Nick tackled Chris in a hug. Their mom sobbed against Jimmy.
Matt stood up and pulled her into his arms so fast the empty box slipped, and they both stumbled a bit, laughing and crying and shaking.
And when he kissed her, right there in front of everyone, it wasn’t polished or pretty. It was messy. And emotional. And real.
"I love you so much." He whispered in her ear.
And she whispered back.
"I can’t believe you’re mine."
They stood there for a long time, just holding each other.
Two people on a stage. In front of thousands.
"The 'getting down on one knee' thing was successfully approved, Matt." Nick's voice echoed around the room from the speakers before two more bodies collapsed around them, holding them close.
They were the only ones in the world.
© vanteguccir
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blackeyen2kisses · 3 months ago
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pathetic bf!seunghyun (headcannons)
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summary: bf!seunghyun who is incredibly down bad for his girlfriend.
an: hello! this is my first fic on this account, im so excited to share it with you. i hope you enjoy <3 (ALSO, please ignore any spelling/grammar errors i didn’t proofread.)
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bf!seunghyun who: didn’t care for love/relationships until he met you.
bf!seunghyun who: swears carless whisper by george micheal played in his head when he laid eyes on you for the first time.
bf!seunghyun who: likes to spend his down time making you playlists and/or writing you songs/raps. he likes to communicate through music.
bf!seunghyun who: calls you sweet girl and thinks it fits perfectly. you are his sweet girl. he thinks youre the sweetest, most angelic being hes ever met.
bf!seunghyun who: will agree to just about anything for your sake (“yeah i dont know, i just dont really feel like going out today” he mummered to jiyong, burying himself further into the fluffy cloud that was his bed, dead set on spending his night curled in bed. until you walked into the room. “seunghyun, lets go out tonight, i need to get out of this house.” seunghyun shot out of bed, unraveling himself from the covers and intertwined your hands, “yeah, sweet girl, lets go.” suddenly alive and full of energy. unaware of jiyong snickering behind him.
bf!seunghyun who: genuinely believes he cant go more than an hour without having his hands on you in someway. wether that be his hand in yours, his arm wrapped around your waist, his fingers curled in your hair, or his fingers inside, yes inside the waist of your jeans, resting against the warmth of your skin.
bf!seunghyun who: when you two sleep has to either be little spoon or lay on top of you (while you scratch his back.)
bf!seunghyun who: is only comfortable with you touching him
bf!seunghyun who: literally calls/texts you every chance he gets. in between recordings, while in the bath, while getting his hair done. he’ll text you every thought that crosses his mind. (itll be three in the morning and youll get a text from him like, “i just realized, nothing is ON fire. fire is on THINGS.”)
bf!seunghyun who: does things for you he knows you can do yourself, such as, brushing and drying your hair after a shower, carrying you from place to place in your shared apartment, brushing your teeth, grabbing things that are just out of reach, tieing your shoes, no matter how much you insist you’re perfectly cable. he cant help it; youre his angel.
bf!seunghyun who: genuinely tears up when you get mad at him (you immediately feel horrible and give in.)
bf!seunghyun who: loves to lay his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair (he falls asleep immediately.)
bf!seunghyun who: hangs onto every word you say. he’ll remember something you vaguely told him months later. (“hey, sweet girl, i got you one of those sun
sunny
sonny..angels
whatever you call them,” he said when he came home from the store, placing the sonny angel box on your lap, then, planting gentle kisses onto the corners of your lips, your nose, your temple, your eyelids. you smile, wondering how the hell he knew you wanted one. you giggle, placing your hand on his cheek and rubbing your thumb across his soft skin as he leans into your touch, “how’d you know i wanted one?” he looked at you as though the answer was obvious, “you mentioned it when you saw a tiktok video in..may” may was 8 months ago?)
bf!seunghyun who: apologizes by getting on his knees, putting his head in your lap, and kissing your hands profusely. muttering over and over how sorry he is and how he’ll do better.
bf!seunghyun who: follows you around everywhere like a little cat. always hovering over your shoulder. if you guys are sitting on the couch and you get up to get a glass of water, trust, he’ll get up and go with you with a content smile on his face. he has attachment issues.
bf!seunghyun who: when your making out and you pull away, looks at you, breathing all hard, like he physically needs more.
bf!seunghyun who: when he has to travel for work will send you a poem a day. (“hey, sweet girl, you will never be unloved by me. you are too well tangled in my soul; hello, my sweet girl, my heart is so full of you i can hardly call it my own. love you always.”)
bf!seunghyun who: is completely obsessed with you.
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sebsbarnes · 4 months ago
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unspoken || minho moon
minho x reader
summary: there was a moment of consideration as you gnawed on the inside of your mouth. the weight of your secret was becoming unbearable.
part two!
warnings: angst! insecurity. probably a few grammar errors
word count: 950+
masterlist
a/n: i fear i couldn't resist writing for him. first work for him so there isn't others in the masterlist. i wrote this pretty quick so i apologize in case.
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you always fought, but that night you didn't.
it was inevitable that when you and minho were around, some sort of bickering would ensue. it was as if the friendship you had relied on those sharp-tongued comments and eye rolls. there was some enjoyment in the banter; you could always rely on minho to be as quick-witted as you. most of the time, it was truly nonsense and comical to those around you, but sometimes he took it too far.
he would cross a boundary, known or unknown, and the aftermath was either venomous words spilling off your tongue or complete silence and avoidance.
it hurt, to ignore him. act like minho wasn't there. sure you would come around to him after a few days and pick right back up where you left off. and yes maybe it was unfair to ignore him after an argument, but that was you, that's what you did.
what you've really come to recognize is these silly little arguments hurt because you had feelings for minho. you hated the giddy feeling you had when he was around. the slight heat to your cheeks when he gave a real, genuine, compliment. the sizzling sensation that coursed through your skin when his hand brushed against you. or the way it felt like your chest was caving in on you and your lungs were screaming for help when minho confessed to q that he had a crush on someone, someone that isn't you.
so here you were avoiding him after he made an innocent remark about his crush. it shouldn't have, but it rubbed you the wrong way and perhaps it was because of the newfound knowledge of your feelings towards minho.
the evening was approaching and soon the sun would exchange places with the moon. the friday night would come alive and the sounds of eager students heading off campus would echo into the night, almost taunting you in your sadness. there was a nice footpath you've called home for the last week. after classes were finished you found yourself walking on the winding path away from school, taking in the fresh air and allowing yourself some peace. nestled a few feet away from the path was a small gazebo with a picnic table in the center. you sat down and allowed your eyes to close, soaking in the tranquility of nature away from the dizziness of life.
"hey..." a voice called out ripping you back to reality.
the voice. his voice. in this moment it made you feel sick. you swear you could feel the bile rising up and threatening to escape. your vision went white. heart beating so hard you could've sworn you saw its outline rising from your chest.
"hey minho," you exhaled as he sat across from you.
his throat bobbed, "how are you?"
you hummed in response, unsure what to say.
the silence between you stretches longer than it ever has. there was no space for quick-witted responses or light-hearted banter. minho didn't know what was the reason for your absence, but he missed you. when he looked at you your eyes didn't hold that mischief it normally possessed. he knew this was not a moment for a sarcastic quip.
"talk to me," minho nearly pleaded, eyes dancing across your face.
you paused trying to find a way to convey your thoughts to minho without confessing your feelings, "have you ever realized something too late?"
his eyebrow pulled up on his face, "well...of course, yeah. i think we all have."
"like, the thing is right there," you nearly laughed, "right in front of you the whole time. but by the time you realize, it's gone, it's moved on like everything else. i realized the importance of it too late."
you looked to minho who sat silently as you rambled. his eyes were clear of any judgment or jokes. the typical smirk etched on his lips was erased. his brows pulled softly together, a delicate ridge separating them. you watched as his hand snaked up from his lap and cradled your hand. his fingers lazily intertwining with your own.
"you know you can tell me anything," he said softly, his accent lighter.
you offered him a small smile. not a fake one, a real one. you could tell minho everything, everything but this. not when he is interested in someone else, you can't ruin that for him. can't ruin your friendship.
he sensed the hesitation, "...c'mon," he urged gently, eyes hopeful.
there was a moment of consideration as you gnawed on the inside of your mouth. the weight of your secret was becoming unbearable. all you wanted to do was scream at the top of your lungs for every person in KISS and for every star in the galaxy to hear that you were falling for minho. but before you could open your mouth and string together all the consonants and vowels for 'minho i'm falling for you' his phone rang.
minho's hand slid out from yours leaving you feeling icy but not as icy as the blood coursing through your body as you watched a shy smile adorn his face. one of his hands ran through his hair, a movement he did when he was feeling nervous, in a good way. you sat in agonizing silence waiting for him to hang up.
a pink hue dusted across his cheeks, "that was uh-"
"go," you replied softly, barely above a whisper, "have fun."
the moonlight that illuminated your face was now blocked my minho's standing figure. if you could, you wanted to be swallowed by his shadow into the darkness.
"oh. what were you going to say before the call?" minho asked.
you shook your head, "it was nothing."
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mayanneaa · 5 months ago
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hits different - ᮊᮊ ᎍᎀʏʙᎀɎᎋ.
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PAIRING : jj maybank x ex!reader
SUMMARY : jj broke up with you two months ago, but this one party makes him truly realize what he’s done.
WARNING(S) : swearing, jealous and super drunk jj, a little angst, fluff, minimal use of y/n (like once), might have some grammar errors, english is not my first language
A/N : first fic on here heheh obv inspired by 'hits different' by taylor swift. i recommend listening to it while reading :) dividers by @roseraris !! not proofread dont kill me
WC : 1.7k
masterlist.
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After a fourth beer, the party got too loud and the lights too bright. Normally, in a moment like this, he would run to you, wrap his arms around you, and inhale your sweet, calming scent. Just as he’s about to do it, the realization hits him like one of the waves nearby.
You aren’t together anymore.
He sharply inhales and looks around. His vision is softly spinning, but it’s no problem for him. JJ spots you in a second. With another boy.
You two are just talking. You don’t even know this guy, he came up to you to ask about something so random it got lost in your chat long ago. You give him one of those kind smiles, and JJ feels his fists clench. “Fuck.”
The music changes. As if he wasn’t already miserable, the speakers let out the first notes of your song. The one he first kissed you to. The one you two always played, alone at the chateau dancing on the back porch.
The memories flood his mind, and he can’t take it anymore. Jj feels his heartbeat loud in his ears, and he wants to leave. To go to any of the pogues, or, even better, drive away in the Twinkie. But his eyes cannot move from your face, and his legs just don’t work.
It baffles him. Not once in his life, he couldn’t move on. But this time, with you, it's different. It hits different.
You finally catch him. The guy is still talking to you, but your attention is on the other side of the beach. Before you can interrupt, you see John B. coming up to JJ. He tells him something, grabs his arm, and leads his best friend somewhere. You feel your heart sink. “Are you okay?” you hear the guy ask, making you turn your head.
“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you quickly say, leaving him alone. You have to find JJ.
“Dude, stop this shit right now,” John B.’s holding the steering wheel, making his way to the Chateau. JJ's taken the passenger seat, shoulders slumped, and he runs his hand through the blonde strands.
"Yeah, easy for you to talk." he snarls, "You and Sarah are all happy together, you don't know how it's like-"
"I don't know because I don't just randomly break up with my girl over a bad day I had." John B. cuts him off and lets out a deep sigh. "JJ, you should talk to her. Everyone's done. You are constantly miserable."
JJ doesn't say anything. The words hit him like a slap, unnecessarily hurtful. Outside the window he sees the familiar place - they are at the Chateau.
"Get some rest, okay?" John B opens the door and helps JJ get in the house. "Call me in case something happens."
The blonde nods his head and plops on the couch, legs stretched out. Minutes pass, and he finds himself whispering your name, over and over again, as if he's scared he'll forget it.
His mind still replays that cold May night.
You two agreed to meet at the dock. The wind softly overflowed your face as you were waiting for him. When he finally came, you felt something was wrong. His usual smile was gone, and he didn't even look at you. You hugged yourself in your hoodie, "JJ? Is everything alright?"
He let out a shaky breath, leaning over the railings. "I think we should break up."
You blinked in surprise, your heart feeling heavy. "What?"
Your voice sounded smaller than you intended. You reached out for his hand, your own shaking.
"It will be better for both of us." JJ dismissively said, swallowing hard. A shiver ran down his body, and his throat tightened, but he brushed it off.
You felt so much hitting you. Tears burned under your eyelids, and anger started to bubble up. Did you do something? Or maybe he just decided you weren't good enough for him anymore?
"No," you whispered at first, but your voice was growing louder, "You don't get to just... just decide on my behalf!"
The moonlight fell on his face, and you tried to find any answers in his eyes. He stiffened, shaking his head before he repeated, "It will be better if we end it now."
You opened your mouth, but not a word came out. The tears threatening to fall finally flooded your face, a quiet scoff escaping your lips. "I can't believe this. This is how much it meant for you?"
You were met with silence. The atmosphere on the dock could be cut with a knife, and you couldn't just stand here. Before you registered it, your legs led you down, far from your boy- well... ex-boyfriend. JJ's eyes followed your every step. He wanted to run after you, to wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But he didn't.
It wasn't just a one-day whim he had. It stuck with him ever since you two decided to make it official. It grew with every late night you spent not on something you like, but on cleaning him up after another fight. You didn’t say anything—but he knew. He knew that sooner or later, it will be too much. He will be too much to handle.
The sweetest girl walking on the earth, a literal angel and him. A failure, a Pogue whose fate it was to end up just like his father—always drunk, always angry.
His heart ached at this thought. You had so many opportunities, and if you decided to let it go because of him, he would never forgive himself.
Breaking up before he got even more attached was for the better. It had to be. Right?
JJ doesn’t know how long he’s been lying like this. His breathing is now steady and slow, and he has to remind himself to breath in again.
He closes his eyes, but can’t escape you. The memories come fast—not giving him much time for defense.
Your face. Always in the sun, glowing as if you were a goddess. The lips glossed from the cherries you’ve been eating. Your eyes, the creases forming in the corners almost constantly from smiling.
Your touch. All these quick brushes, the way you traced your soft fingertips over his forearm every time you sat nearby. The long, tight hugs during which JJ’s hands wrapped your waist, him hungrily inhaling your perfume.
His breath hitches. Is it truly the best this way?
Before he can answer, the quiet crack of a key opens the door. He darts up and immediately regrets it, as the whole room starts spinning.
“JJ?” he hears a soft whisper, and his heart skips a beat.
The warm lights of the Chateau reveal your face. He feels the heat rising to his cheeks, “What are you doing here?”
His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. You step closer, with a cautiousness that kills something inside him. He avoids your gaze, staring at the suddenly interesting floor.
“You’re not doing great, huh?” you say, but there’s no mockery or anger in your voice. There’s just
 worry.
JJ turns around on his heels and sits down on couch, fearing that if he stands for a minute longer, he might just fall. He runs a hand through his hair, a habit that intensified over the two months.
“Stop it, Y/N.” he finally replies looking at you for the first time. The light reflects of his watery eyes, and his voice breaks when he continues, “Go back to the party and your new stupid little boyfriend.”
Your eyes widen. “Are you fussing over me talking to a guy after you broke up with me?”
JJ shakes his head, looking at the floor again, “Doesn’t matter. Not anymore, I guess. You really should go—”
“Why did you end this?”
The question feels like an arrow through his heart. You’re standing with your hands crossed, not planning on going anywhere. “Why, J? We were happy. Did I do something
?”
“It wasn’t you.” In the response, he hears a snort.
Your gaze is heavy, with your eyebrows arched up. “Classic. Then what was it, JJ?” The tone of your voice is pushing, and you don’t even try to control it, “What happened that you decided to just leave me?”
“I was scared!” he snaps before he can think of anything better to say. “How do you imagine it? You
 you can’t suffer with me forever. It’ll break you one day and—”
“JJ.”
The way you say his name pulls him out of the spiral. It slips off your tongue smoothly, just like it used to. You grip his arm, and JJ forgets what he was even talking about.
“You don’t get to make this decision without talking to me. Did you ever asked me how I feel about this?”
A blush creeps up on his cheeks, and whether you want it or not, the corners of your lips rise.
He tries to make any sense, the tears dangerously close to falling. “I mean— You deserve someone better. Someone who will keep you safe and
 I’m not that person. And I don’t think I’ll ever be.”
You sigh. “Maybe. But I don’t want anyone better, baby. I want you. That’s my decision.”
With these words, with what you called him, his walls crash. You pull him closer, your bodies touching and he can’t take it anymore. JJ lets out a muffled sob into the crook of your neck, gripping you like he’s never letting you go.
Your fingers find their way up to his hair, running through the golden strands as he’s shaking.
“I’m sorry.” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry. So sorry—”
“Shhh,” You draw small circles on his back, and his breath slows down after some time. “We will talk about it tomorrow, ’kay? You’re super drunk right now.”
“Promise you won’t leave.” JJ sniffles, the tip of his nose pink. You giggle, but he pulls away to look at you, a serious expression on his face. “I’m not joking! Promise me you’ll still be here in the morning. Please.”
You gently squeeze his shaking hand and can’t help but smile. “I promise.”
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bunni-v1 · 4 months ago
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Aventurine NSFW Headcannons
🍓This took me so long to get done, and I'm not 100% satisfied, but I wanted to get these out. There's so much I left unsaid, and I feel like if I kept going it would never stop. So enjoy the very basics of what I feel Aventurine is like in bed. Smaller posts are coming in the future so I can take time to work on the genshin stuff I have coming, alongside requests I plan on doing a full fic for <3
Tagging: @the-original-skipps (mwah mwah, just for you pookie)
Tw: Mentions of past sexual assault; Aventurine has unhealthy views of sex; Aventurine's past; NSFW; Pretty vanilla ngl; grammar errors
Info: Aventurine x Reader; Angst; Fluff
Word Count: 2.5k
MDNI
-Aventurine and sex do not mix well – at least, not at the start. 
-Much like love, he has a very jaded view of sexual intimacy. He was (heavily implied to have been) sexually assaulted by many different unsavory types when he was younger. His body wasn’t his own then, and the sex was brutal and unkind – something he hated.
-As he grew, both in stature and into his title of Aventurine of Strategems, his hatred of sex turned into something different. It was still hatred, he hated the act more than anything in the world most times, but he realized his body was good for something.
-Aventurine was an attractive man, despite his eyes being a less than savory feature to most people. His body was lean and lithe, his clothes and hair perfectly styled and trendy, not to mention the air of mystery he had drew people in like moths to flame. 
-All of it was crafted by his own two hands, of course. He was attractive because he wanted – no, needed to be. So, he made sure he was, of course, no one would do business with him otherwise.
-Pretty as a peacock, you could hardly tell he was once a slave or a dirty Avgin boy.
-He’s pleasantly surprised to find that the body he so hated being born into was a good business tool when he needed it to be.
-People really will do anything to get off, and as much as it disgusted him to do such depraved things, he would do whatever he had to to get what he wanted.
-He’d scrub his skin raw in the shower afterward, trying desperately to get the smell of sex off him. Hoping that if he scratches hard enough the ugly purple bruises will wash away with soap and water. They never do, and they leave him feeling vile until they fade.
-Regardless men, women, monsters – he really didn’t care what he was fucking so long as it got him what he was looking for.
-That’s what sex is to Aventurine, a transaction. He scoffs at the idea of it being anything more than that. Sex was rough and sweaty and all kinds of disgusting, how could anyone derive pleasure from that? You fuck, you cum, you say goodbye. Simple. As. That.
-Ah, but, then again you come along and you just love challenging his worldview don’t you? With your pretty little eyes and your sweet, comforting words. You always make him question himself. It would be annoying if he didn’t love you so damn much.
-Your first time with him is
 incredibly unpleasant. It’s not as though he doesn’t account for you or your wants, but there’s a disconnect. He’s too
 pliant and yet all too controlling. First times are rarely good, but this felt alien. Like the person you were with was not your beloved Kakavasha, but some strange man taking his place for the night.
-He’s doing things he thinks you want, he’s saying sweet words he’d whispered to hundreds of other partners, it’s all that he thinks you need, what he’s decided in his head that you’d like, rather than something that comes from knowing you.
-He doesn’t ask, he just gives and takes and then it’s over. It’s unfulfilling and empty, leaving you with a dull ache in your chest.
-He doesn’t even offer you or himself aftercare, and you find him scrubbing his skin red in the shower afterward like he was trying to rid himself of any trace of you.
-It makes you feel terrible. Like you’re some whore he’s picked up off the streets and not his long-term partner with whom he’s shared some of the darkest parts of himself.
-You cry into those expensive satin sheets, ruining them with your sniffling. It’s quite the sight for Aventurine to walk back into.
-He expected you to be asleep, or at least resting in some capacity, but crying? His heart sinks as he rushes to your side, then somehow falls further when you tug yourself away from him.
-He’s perceptive enough to realize that he had been the one to put you in such a state, but he didn’t really understand why.
-When he’s able to calm you enough to get you to talk to him, you’re able to explain that you felt so disregarded. There was no connection or love or care from him, did he not feel you were worthy of sharing that in moments of intimacy?
-That makes him sick. Never in a million years would he want to make you feel as though he does not love you, despite previous behaviors. You were his whole world, part of the reason he continued to exist. How could he ever make you feel unworthy of him?
-He nearly spirals there, but your tears are enough to remind him that he is not the one who needs love and reassurance. So, always eager to learn and grow with you, he asks you what you believe sex should be like
 and it’s quite different from what he understands.
-You describe it like an extension of yourself. A means of intimacy and trust a level deeper than words and affection can get you. You are vulnerable during sex, you are at your weakest and you are sharing that with the person you love. It’s the most intimate thing you could do with a person, and while it can be fun and it can simply be because it feels good, it can also be because you love the other person so deeply you have no other way to express it.
-Aventurine finds the definition to be rather naive, but you had always been a bleeding heart. (Which he, regardless of if Kakavasha or Aventurine was leading charge, would give anything to protect). Yet
 Kakavasha likes it. Kakavasha wants to do that with you, he wants to show you how much he loves you, he wants to hold you even closer and share such sweet nothings with you.
-He tries to toss it out initially because if he thought about it like that he would have to confront himself. Look that trauma in the eyes and acknowledge that, once again, you’d proven him wrong in a way he was annoyingly not expecting.
-But as the days go by and you slowly begin to become physical with him again, he wonders fondly how it would feel. Taking his time with you, he means.
-He couldn’t help but wonder how nice it would be to really feel your skin under his fingers. To kiss every inch of you, to hear you sigh his name like he crafted the heavens with his own two hands. Ah, Kakavasha won again, it seems.
-So he goes to you, like an apologetic puppy, and he apologizes for how terrible he was. How he reflected and regrets it, and he wants to try again and let you take the lead this time. 
-Despite everything, you say yes, and you allow him this second chance to redefine his worldview yet again.
-Aeons it’s life-changing sex. 
-Slow, careful, and all kinds of intimate. He’s still on top because he could not trust even you to be on top. He needed that control. But he listens to what you need, and he finds he’s very good at servicing you. Just as good as he is at spoiling you with his riches.
-You guide him to kiss you deeply, tongues tangling in a tango to a tempo only the two of you could enjoy. You show him how to leave love bites that make his spine tingle. How different parts of your body make you feel different kinds of pleasure. He gets to feel your skin beneath his fingertips, taste your very being on his tongue, and swallow the angelic cries of his name.
-It’s a kind of intimacy and affection he’d never been afforded in his life. A vulnerability he hadn’t expected himself to enjoy, and yet as he sobs into your shoulder at his release, he finds himself wanting more.
-It becomes a problem, really. One taste of it and you have both your sweet Kakavasha and the hardened businessman Aventurine absolutely addicted. In the privacy of his condo, he can lust after you all he wants. You would never deny him the pleasure of freedom, though you would tell him no after the third night in a row for your aching hips. (He will draw you a bath and book you an appointment at the finest spa he can get you into for the next day.)
-In his office, or during a meeting, or talking to the Doctor, however
 that’s a problem. He wasn’t supposed to like it that much, but that intimacy had him aching through his expensive slacks. 
-He thinks about it all the time, and he’s taken to locking his office doors and keeping the blinds shut airtight for more than half the day. He hopes no one notices how many bathroom breaks he takes during meetings. He tries his best to forget the boner he popped in front of the esteemed doctor talking about finances.
-You literally have him addicted to being in love with you, it’s quite the conundrum you’ve found yourselves in
 but, would you really ever want to change that? He’s very good in bed after all, so it can’t be that bad.
-Aventurine is a switch-leaning top (so sorry Aventio shippers), and I say this only because he does not like relinquishing control. Especially when he’s in such a vulnerable state, especially with his past traumas, he would rather be in charge than trust you and have you hurt him.
-He softens up significantly as time goes on, and he is more willing to allow you to service him how you please, but he never really gives up his control. There’s always a reminder that he has the say-so in what does or does not go.
-That being said he is very giving, without having to be asked he will happily do whatever you need of him. It’s just in his nature to service, those pretty little moans are all the payment he needs.
-I won’t lie and say he isn’t a tease, though. He’s incorrigible, actually. He loves to tease you, be it with his words or his actions, he loves getting you squirming beneath him.
-He’ll mumble against your throat how needy you are for him, how you’re already so worked up and he hasn’t even gotten past your clothes, how cute you are when you’re so needy for him. His fingers will graze you with such feather-light touch you’ll whine at him, and he always coos at you like a needy little thing – as if he isn’t the one tormenting you.
-He’s a fan of edging, which just comes with the territory too. He spends hours of his time building you up to your orgasm, crooking his fingers and swirling his tongue so you’re right there, and then he’ll pull away leaving you crying for more.
-It’s all worth it when he does let you cum, though. The orgasm shaking the very foundation of you, sticky fluids staining yet another pair of satin sheets. 
-That’s not even mentioning his dick, which he is just as talented with. It’s slim, the same shade as the rest of him, with an upward curve that rubs against your g-spot so very well without him having to try.
-It fits so snugly inside, and if you watch closely you can see the effect you have on him as his perfect poker face cracks just a little. He loves to feel you from the inside, it may be one of his favorite things in the world.
-You are warm and squishy and so very accepting of him, conforming to the size and shape of his member like you were made to do so. Like you were made for him and him alone, it’s a deeply romantic thought that he would scoff at if he were in a less hazy mindset.
-He’s rarely rough with you, preferring to show you how much he loves you more softly, though he can be rough upon request.
-Sometimes if you get him jealous enough he’ll be rough on his own accord, but never uncaring or unloving. Even when he has you face down, ass up he makes you feel like the most precious gemstone in the entire world.
-He likes sex slow and long, preferring if it is dragged out across multiple sessions with sweet nothings and gentle care between the breaks. 
-However, he rarely has the free time for such things, and as such he gets very good at making the most of the time that he does have.
-Because of his high sex drive, quickies are common, but they are no less fulfilling than the long sessions he enjoys having. 
-He’s adept at getting you to cum in under five minutes with his fingers, he can do it in two with his tongue thrown in, and that’s usually fast enough for him to quickly get off and get back to what he needs to do.
-Unfortunately, he isn’t the kinkiest guy. He doesn’t like tying up or being tied up, he’s not a fan of power play, roleplaying seems to turn him off (again, not a fan of power play, which a lot of scenarios include this), no hitting or degrading, and pretty much anything that could remotely involve hurting either of you is a no from him.
-He thinks for a while he’s fine with it, and he is willing to try anything once, but it only takes him one time to realize he does not like physical or mental pain. It’s not sexy, it’s traumatizing and he won’t be convinced to try it.
-He does, however, really enjoy you wearing lingerie. Lacy ones dotted with expensive stones are his favorites. Frequently you’ll find a set sent to you in pretty packaging with a little note telling you to ‘enjoy your present.’ Meaning, he wants a picture of you in it ASAP.
-Also a fan of seeing you in his clothes. If he spots you lounging about in his shirt after a long day of work, he’ll be all over you like a helpless puppy.
-Cockwarming you when he works from home is a favorite of his, liking the way you wiggle and squirm as he combs over documents. His poker face really is something impressive, you have no clue how he’s re-read the same sentence ten times as you clench around him again.
-Office sex is unlikely, purely because he doesn’t like you being anywhere near IPC headquarters if he can help it. But if you do stop by for some reason, the likelihood of him bending you over the desk and fucking you raw is about 99%. He does miss you a lot during the day, after all, you can’t shame him for indulging in his favorite treat after so long without it.
-He just truly, deeply loves you. Once he begins to have a healthy relationship with sex and associate it with you rather than the horrors of his past, it’s nothing but loving and delightful. He takes the whole idea that it is an extension of his admiration for you very literally, and showers you in his affections through sex.
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flwrstqr · 1 year ago
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FALLING IN LOVE ACCIDENTALLY (OR NOT) (LHS - ìŽíŹìŠč)
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SYNOPSIS: babysitting wasn't your dream job that you always wanted. as you start babysitting a new girl, lee jihyeon, you meet her older brother, lee heeseung. You end up getting closer and closer to heeseung and ultimately fall in love amidst the chaos.
pairing: bad boy!heeseung x babysitter!reader
genre: s2l, babysitter au, romance, fluff, angst, medium fic
warning(s): parties, cursing, fighting, mentions death, small grammar errors, crying, some angst scenes, kissing, reader and heeseung has a year age gap
word count: 5k+
AN: guys im back with a medium fic!! lowkey this wasn't really the it vibe as the end i feel like was kind of rushed. so if i made any grammar errors im sorry TT, i finished this writing in like 2-3 days so it was kind of hard so. but liz + hye for helping me think of a climax. i kind of got this idea for a POV on tiktok so help
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AGE 21, THE SUPPOSED GOLDEN YEARS OF LIFE, or so they say. But for you, it's far from golden. Being a babysitter at this age isn't exactly glamorous; it's probably one of the last jobs you'd expect to have.
"Yunah, I'm heading out to my new client's place, okay?" you call out before leaving the door.
"Okay, just be safe!" Yunah shouts back from her room down the hallway. You close the door behind you and hurry out as usual, pulling out your notepad to review your schedule for the day:
8:00 am: Wake up 8:30 am: Go grocery shopping with Moka for breakfast 9:30 am: Have breakfast 9:45 am: Prepare for the new kid 10:30 am: Leave the house 10:45 am: Arrive at the client's house 1:00 pm: Leave the client's house
You quietly close your notepad and mentally rehearse what to say as you settle onto the bus. Upon reaching your stop, you make your way to the house.
The house is painted in soft beige and cream, with a porch ceiling resembling a clear blue sky on a sunny day. A wind chime gently sways, welcoming visitors with its melodic tinkling. You ring the doorbell and wait.
A boy around your age answers, with dark red hair and deer-like features. His ear piercings catch your attention as he regards you with an intense stare.
"Hi, I'm here for Jihyeon. Lee Jihyeon," you say, your words stumbling slightly under his gaze. "I'm her babysitter. YN LN."
"Oh, Jihyeon's upstairs," he replies with a shrug, ushering you inside.
Inside, the entrance feels airy and bright, with a faint scent of coffee lingering in the kitchen. Making your way upstairs, you come to a door adorned with pink letters and heart and flower stickers, reading "LEE JIHYEON." You knock, and a small girl, around six years old, opens the door.
"Hi," she says, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. "Are you a princess here to take me to princess school?"
You chuckle softly. "You can think that if you want. I'm YN. Your new friend," you introduce yourself, crouching down to her eye level.
"Are you here to babysit me?" Jihyeon asks as she lets you enter her room.
"More than babysitting, I'll be your new friend," you reassure her with a smile.
"Really?" Jihyeon's eyes light up. "I've wanted a friend for a while, but I don't have any at school." She quickly covers her mouth, realizing what she's said, and closes the door abruptly.
"Jihyeon?" you raise an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor.
"Sorry, my brother doesn't know. If he found out, he might cause trouble at my school," Jihyeon explains, pouting as she joins you.
"Your brother?"
"Yeah, Heeseung," Jihyeon beams, kicking her legs as she sits. "I love him a lot."
You smile at her innocence. "How old is your brother?"
"22!" Jihyeon exclaims. "He's like 16 years older than me, but he's a great brother."
"I see. How about we start playing now?" you suggest, earning an enthusiastic nod from Jihyeon as she jumps up to grab her toys.
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"YN, COME ON! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE TO YEJI’S PARTY!" Minju exclaims as she peeks into your room. Her mouth slightly drops as she sees your outfit. "Trying on the new dress you got?"
You nodded, turning to her. "Does it look okay? Not too over-the-top?"
Twirling to inspect yourself in the mirror, the knee-length black velvet dress hugged your figure, adorned with delicate black lace and a soft touch.
"You look stunning," Minju beamed, adding the final touch by placing a diamond necklace around your neck.
"Thanks, Minju," you said, pulling her into a hug.
"Anything for you, YN. Now come on, let's go to the party. Yunah is complaining about how long we're taking," Minju laughs, quickly letting go of the embrace before taking your hand and dragging you to the car.
As you get into the car, the six of you start driving to the party, blasting music and enjoying your life. When you arrive, the club is crazy loud. The noise from the DJ speakers vibrates throughout the room, friend groups dancing in circles, and couples making out in the back. Your shoulders tense as you scan the room. You walk over to the bar to get a quick drink before joining the party.
Feeling awkward and out of place, you shuffle around while holding your drink. You glance around and make eye contact with Moka, who is sitting with a group of people. She signals for you to join them, but you shake your head no and excuse yourself to the bathroom. As you wash your hands and return to the party, you come face to face with the one girl you wished you never saw again: Yoonhee, the girl who bullied you in high school for being "poor."
"Oh look, it's YN LN!" she gives a small fake smile. "Didn't expect to see you at Yeji's party tonight."
"What do you want, Yoonhee," you glare.
"Nothing, I'm just giving you a pleasant greeting. Nothing more," she laughs, triggering flashbacks from when you were 17.
"Then get out of my way, Yoonhee," you spat.
"Woah, no need to get so aggressive," she gives a proud smile. "I heard you were babysitting. How's it like to be poor?"
That was your last straw. You grab the nearest drink and throw it at Yoonhee's white dress. Her eyes widen as she sees the purple punch juice on her dress. Her eyes then narrow as she stares at you.
"Do you know how much this cost? This dress cost $5,270. Now you have to pay for that," she says angrily.
"Fuck off, Yoonhee. You're still the same. No wonder you have no friends," you yell before turning around and running out of the nearest exit.
You burst out into tears, knowing you were sober. You walk yourself to the nearest bus station, sobbing silently as you wipe your tears. Each step gets heavier as your heels start to burn and your bare knees and calves shiver from the cold.
“Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks. It's a voice that sounds so familiar. A voice that you swore you heard before. You look up to meet the same boy back at Jihyeon’s house. The boy with those deer-like features and dark red hair, with the same exact piercings.
"You’re the guy from Jihyeon's house," you try to piece his name together as only in your mind was the incident with Yoonhee and you.
"Heeseung, and you are?" he asks, noticing your teary eyes.
"YN," you reply, wiping your tears.
Heeseung then notices how you're shivering from the cold. He takes off his jacket and drapes his jacket over your shoulders
"Here, you can take this. Do you need a ride or anything? Do you have someone picking you up?" he asks.
"Yunah, Moka, and Minju are still there. They're my friends," you sniffle. "But I was walking myself to the bus station."
“Still there?” He raises his eyebrow. 
“At the party,” you mumbled. 
"If you want, I can take you home," Heeseung suggests.
"How do I know you're not a kidnapper," you tease with a pout.
Heeseung laughs softly. "Do you think I am?"
"Maybe," you reply.
"Trust me, I won't. Plus, what's the worst thing I can do?" Heeseung smiles.
"Weird stuff," you say.
"I won't. Where do you live?" he asks.
"Okay, that's a bit off," you reply teasingly.
"Hey..." Heeseung says in a half-joking, half-serious tone.
"Fine, I'll tell you the direction, you drive the car," you respond.
"Oh, who said it was a car?" Heeseung winks as he walks you over to his motorcycle.
Your eyes widen. "A motorcycle? Also, I need a helmet?"
"Wear mine," he grins, handing you his helmet before helping you hop onto the back. You hold him tightly as he starts his engine.
As you clutch onto his leather jacket, he speeds up, and you squeeze your eyes closed, afraid of falling. When you open them again, you admire the midnight sky, feeling the cold breeze hug you warmly. When you arrive back at the dorm, you wave goodnight to Heeseung before he turns around.
"Can I get your number?" he asks.
"Sure," you grin, inserting your number into Heeseung's phone. You wink and then turn around to walk back into your dorm.
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THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN, and Jihyeon's sweet smile welcomes you in. She bounds up with excitement, leading you upstairs to her room.
"Where's your brother, Jihyeon?" you ask, your tone light. You steal a glance at your bag, where Heeseung's neatly folded and laundered jacket rests.
"He's out or something," Jihyeon shrugs, already eager to show off her new toy.
As time flies by, you and Jihyeon play together as usual. She cherishes your time together, and as you help prepare lunch, the two of you chat.
"Jihyeon, are your parents not home?" you inquire, placing the grilled cheese she requested onto a plate.
"They're not here," Jihyeon replies between bites of her sandwich, causing your eyes to widen slightly.
"I see," you murmur softly, tucking a strand of Jihyeon's hair behind her ear as she takes another big bite.
"That's why Heeseung is always out. He's always looking for a babysitter for me because I'm only 6. So, I want you to be my permanent babysitter!" Jihyeon beams, savoring each taste of her grilled cheese.
"I'll always be here for you, Jihyeon," you smile back, admiring her cute expression. "How about after this, we play some fun games?"
"Yes, please!" Jihyeon's face lights up with a huge smile as she takes the last bite of her grilled cheese. You then tidy up with her and quickly take her hand as you step outside to play together.
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"DOES THIS LIP TINT LOOK OKAY?" you inquire of Wonhee, who was browsing through the new makeup offerings at the mall. She looks up, observing the tester product on your hand.
"Hmm, maybe a slightly lighter shade," Wonhee suggests before joining you to explore more makeup options. You pick up another lip tint, testing it out before making your purchase and leaving the store.
"YN?" a voice calls out your name. You glance up to see Heeseung waving at you.
"Oh, Heeseung," you respond with a smile. "Didn’t expect to see you here at the mall."
"My friend works at the café on the first floor, so I thought I'd pay a visit," Heeseung explains. "Are you here alone?"
"No, I'm here with—" you begin, but your voice is interrupted by Wonhee rushing over to you.
"YN! I finally decided to buy the new eyeshadow palette!" Wonhee exclaims, then she notices Heeseung. "Oh, do you know him?"
"Heeseung, Jihyeon’s older brother," you introduce, as Heeseung gives a small wave. "He's a year older than me."
"Hi, nice to meet you," Heeseung says, shaking Wonhee's hand.
"I'm Wonhee, YN's best friend or roommate, well, one of her roommates," Wonhee smiles.
"Nice to meet you," Heeseung replies, before turning back to you. "Well, gotta go so have a good time with your friend, pretty girl." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise at his affectionate nickname as he walks off to the first floor, hands in his pockets.
"God, he's definitely into you, YN!" Wonhee giggles, noting your shocked expression.
"Shut up, Wonhee!" you exclaim.
"Just saying!" Wonhee laughs.
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A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE YOU FIRST MET HEESEUNG, but it was that one night that really caught your attention. After a long day of babysitting, you decided to take a leisurely stroll around the park before heading back to your dorm.
The night was tranquil, nearly 9 pm, and the crisp air refreshed you as you walked. As you approached your usual alleyway, the sound of punches and kicks pierced the calm. Your heart raced with nervousness as you wondered what was happening. Was it a hallucination, or...?
Turning the corner, you were shocked to see Heeseung amidst a group of boys. Quickly, you ducked behind a wall, watching in disbelief. Why was he in a fight?
Straining to hear their conversation, you caught Heeseung shouting, "You owe me $1,000. I won the bet," just before another punch landed on his face. Your heart sank at the sight of his swollen lips and bruised eye.
"Who cares about the bet? You messed with us, you’re dead," a boy sneered, delivering another blow.
"Leave him alone!" you finally mustered the courage to intervene, emerging from your hiding spot.
The boy mocked, "Oh look, is it your girlfriend, Heeseung? If you’re a stray cat trying to get your boyfriend out of trouble, you're out of luck."
In a burst of anger, you threw your purse at the boy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Another boy's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the scene.
"What did you say?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing.
As the tension escalated, you kicked the taunting boy hard in the legs, causing him to yelp in pain.
"Want to say that again?" you glared. "Fuck off and find something better to do with your time."
The boy slowly looking a bit scared quickly ran off through the alleyways as his friends tagged along with him. 
“So
” you began tentatively, noticing Heeseung’s bleeding lip.
“Sorry for all of that,” Heeseung apologized sincerely.
“Let's talk later. For now, let's get you patched up,” you replied, swiftly leading him to the nearby convenience store to grab a first aid kit.
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"HOW DID YOU EVEN END UP IN THAT FIGHT?" you inquire as the two of you settle in at the park. You pull out a tube of scar gel, uncapping it and listening intently as Heeseung explains.
"Well, I made a bet for $1,000 and won, so I got dragged into the whole brawl," Heeseung shrugs. "It's just the usual."
"Usual?" your eyebrow raises as you first cleanse the scar with an alcohol wipe.
"Ouch, that stings," Heeseung winces as you then pat it dry with a tissue. "Yeah, it's kind of normal for me... ouch."
"Then maybe you shouldn't do it; it's dangerous," you respond, leaning in closer to apply the medicine. Heeseung's heart thumps as he watches you approach. You can feel his breath against your skin, and his cheeks flush as your fingers touch his skin. Why does his stomach feel like it's doing somersaults?
You affix a small bandage as a finishing touch. "There."
"Thanks," Heeseung smiles. "So, where were you?"
"Babysitting for another kid today," you shrug, quickly disposing of the bandage wrapper and tidying up your first aid kit.
"I see," Heeseung replies, helping you clean up. "I can walk you home if you want?"
"I'll walk," you smile.
"I could walk with you part of the way," Heeseung suggests, falling into step beside you. You both gaze at the glimmering stars, admiring them from afar.
"You know," you start, "Jihyeon mentioned something about your parents."
Heeseung's gaze drops as he stares at the ground, his smile fading slightly. He looks at you. "She did?"
You nod, meeting Heeseung's eyes. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened?"
"Well..." Heeseung pauses, contemplating for a moment before continuing. "My parents died in a car crash. They were returning from a movie, and they never really got to say goodbye to us. I guess my biggest regret was not saying goodbye before they left. I was just being stubborn and angry because they scolded me for getting a bad grade."
You listen attentively. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's okay. It's all in the past now. It happened about five years ago, and I barely remember it," Heeseung shrugs.
"I hope things have gotten better since then," you smile.
"Thanks, YN," he gives you a grateful look.
"Anyway, thanks for walking me. Hopefully, we can talk again later," you wave goodbye before heading towards your apartment building.
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"YN, COULE YOU PLEASE JOIN ME FOR A DRESS-UP TEA PARTY?" Jihyeon pleads with a cute pout, coaxing you into her playful scheme.
"Alright, fine
" you reluctantly agree, watching as Jihyeon's face lit up with a wide smile before she hurriedly led you to her room to fetch tiaras and dresses.
"This dress is from Mommy's room, so you can wear it," Jihyeon grin mischievously, confessing how she got it without her brother's knowledge. You examine the dress—a simple white garment with puffy sleeves adorned with intricate lace, reaching knee-length.
After changing in the bathroom, you admire your reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly, the dress fit perfectly, accentuating your features.
Emerging from the bathroom, you found Jihyeon holding two tiaras, dressed in her own fancy pink attire. She hands you a tiara, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she helps you place it on your head.
"Let's go! It's tea party time!" she exclaims, leading you to the dining table where she arranged fake tea cups. Pouring imaginary "tea" into your cup, you play along, enjoying the moment.
Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes observed from the doorway. "A tea party without me?" a teasing voice remark, revealing Heeseung, in his usual leather jacket and jeans, his smile widening as he saw you. His gaze linger on you appreciatively, taking in the sight of the borrowed dress.
"Heeseung!" Jihyeon exclaims, rushing into his arms.
"How are you, Jihyeon?" Heeseung greets, lifting her up gently.
"Why are you home so early?" Jihyeon inquire.
"Just needed to grab something upstairs," Heeseung replies with a grin. "Could you fetch my phone and wallet, Jihyeon? I need to chat with YN."
"Sure!" Jihyeon agreeing, scampering off to fulfill his request.
"YN
" Heeseung's gaze softened as he admires your appearance in the dress. "You look beautiful."
"I hope it's not inappropriate or disrespectful cause Jihyeon let me borrow it
" you began, but Heeseung quickly reassuring you.
"No, it's fine. You should keep it. It suits you really well," he insisted 
"Are you sure?" you ask hesitantly.
"Absolutely," Heeseung affirm, his smile unwavering. "By the way, are you free next Friday evening? Jihyeon will be with her aunt, and I thought maybe we could grab dinner together."
"Ah, is someone asking me out?" you tease, accepting his invitation with a smile.
Heeseung chuckles. "Guilty as charged. See you next Friday then. Feel free to continue your tea party," he added with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes. Jihyeon returned with Heeseung's belongings, bidding him farewell as he left the house once more.
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"WHY AM I SO NERVOUS
" you whisper to yourself in the bathroom before a ding dong at the door interrupts your thoughts. "I'LL GET IT!" you shout, hastily opening the door to find Heeseung standing there, clad in a white blouse with the first two buttons undone and black pants.
"I hope I’m not too early?" Heeseung grins.
"Perfect timing," you reply with a small smile. "I'LL BE BACK SOON!" you call out to your friends before exiting the house.
Outside, Heeseung's motorcycle awaits, and you sit on it, securing your helmet as he starts the engine. Arriving at the restaurant, he assists you off the bike, taking your hand and leading you inside. As you settle at a table, you quickly peruse the menu and place your order, leaving time for conversation.
"I noticed something unique about Jihyeon," you begin. "Unlike most kids who prioritize toys, she seems more
mature, especially in her care for you."
"Hm?" Heeseung looks intrigued.
"She's genuinely thoughtful and responsible, almost like she was raised exceptionally well," you add, earning a nod from Heeseung.
"You also strike me as a great brother," you compliment, noticing a faint blush on Heeseung's cheeks as he looks away, taking a sip of water to compose himself.
"Thanks," he responds, attempting to maintain his composure.
As the conversation flows, your food arrives, and after enjoying the meal, you take a leisurely stroll, chatting along the way.
"Yunah is more of a 'clumsy older sister' than an organized one," you remark.
"I could gather that from your stories," Heeseung chuckles, then pauses, "Your shoes... they're untied." He bends down to quickly tie your shoelaces, and inexplicably, your heart begins to race. Why the sudden flutter in your stomach?
"T-thanks," you stutter, "H-how about we head back home now? It's getting late, you know?"
"Yeah, sure," Heeseung nods, masking how he was blushing too.
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YOU LIE IN YOUR BED, STARING AT THE CEILING, thinking of all the times you've spent with Heeseung. All the times you babysat Jihyeon and he would always stop by and wave at you. All the time he would do small things to make your heart thump loudly. All the rides you took on his motorcycle. The scent of his leather jacket when you first met him after the party. All of that was nearly 4-5 months ago. Now here you are, lying down and thinking about Heeseung all night, memories keeping you up until 4 am.
“Do you think I’m in love?” you ask Iroha.
“I think you are,” Iroha responds with a smile. “You always talk about Heeseung, and he treats you really well.”
You pause and ponder Iroha’s words, contemplating what it truly means to you. Were all those butterflies in your stomach a sign of love? What even is love?You gaze out the window, reflecting for the last time. Now you realize it, Iroha was right. You are truly deeply in love with the one and only Lee Heeseung
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“YN, YOU’RE ZONING OUT AGAIN.” Jihyeon pouts as you gaze out the window for the fourth time. 
“Sorry, Jihyeon. Where were we in the play?” you try to give a small smile that hopefully Jihyeon would forgive. 
“We were where the prince confessed to the princess!” Jihyeon exclaims. 
Confess. The word pops up in the brain as you try to gain your focus back, “Right.” You whisper before then zoning out again. God, why was Heeseung taking your whole mind? 
You quickly snap back to reality, “Sorry—so basically the princess confesses to the prince of how much she loves him. How much she makes her get butterflies in her stomach. The way he gives her jacket and talks to her all the time..” You continue on as your mind is only about Heeseung. All the stuff you were saying perfectly described him. 
“You know this kind of sounds like my brother,” Jihyeon says, as she plays with her dolls. 
“Huh?” you look up from talking. 
“Is it?” Jihyeon asks. 
“Uhm..” you hesitate. 
“It is.” Jihyeon replies, reading your expression, “it’s okay cause I have my mouth shut.” She grabs her fingers and pretends to zip her mouth close as you laugh at her cuteness. But she wasn’t wrong, everything you said was about Heeseung. Everything in your mind right now was Heeseung.
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YOU AND YUNAH SETTLE INTO A cozy corner at the bustling café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling in the air. Thoughts of Heeseung, the boy who occupies far too much space in your mind, tug at your attention.
"I’m going to the bathroom," you say, forcing a smile as you make your way to the bathroom. Inside the dimly lit space, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your thoughts. 
But as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you can't help but overhear a conversation from the other side of the bathroom.
"Heeseung definitely likes me. Like in Lee Heeseung," a voice boasts confidently. "Remember that one day he kissed me once. He's my type too."
Your heart skips a beat as the words sink in, a wave of shock and betrayal washing over you. Why did you think he likes you? Why did you like him? 
You press a hand to your mouth, trying to stop the sobs that threaten to escape. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to make sense of heartbreak. 
With trembling hands, you splash cold water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Yunah again. You can't let her see you like this, can't bear to let her witness the shattered remnants of your heart.
Summoning every ounce of strength you have left, you force yourself to leave the bathroom. Yunah's concerned gaze meets yours, and you offer her a weak smile.
"I'm not feeling well," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I should go home."
Yunah's brow furrows with worry, and she reaches out to touch your arm. But you pull away gently, offering her a reassuring smile.
"I'll be okay," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I just need some rest."
With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to Yunah and make your escape from the café. Once outside, tears streaming down your cheeks. Sobbing your eyes, you make your way back home with a broken heart. 
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"YN, COME ON. HE’S SUCH A JERK" Wonhee consoles you as she wipes away your tears for what feels like the fifth time this week.
"He completely played me," you sob, feeling the weight of betrayal. "I thought there was something between us, but turns out he's just the brother of a kid I babysit. Why did I even like him?"
"YN
" Moka's voice is gentle as she squeezes your hand, "Please don't talk like that. What if there's a misunderstanding?"
"They mentioned 'Lee Heeseung,' it's obviously him," you sniffle, trying to compose yourself.
"Well, why waste your time on someone who doesn't deserve it?" Minju interjects.
"Minju's got a point," Wonhee agrees, "He's not worth your tears. He's just a player."
"But I can't help it, I think I love him," you admit, feeling torn.
"But Heeseung doesn't strike me as the type to play with someone's feelings like that. He's a good guy," Yunah suggests optimistically. "Maybe there's more to the story that you don't know."
"I don't even know anymore," you murmur, wiping your eyes. "All I know is I can't face anyone for the next week. I might even cancel all my plans. I just can't bear to see him right now."
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HEESEUNG SAT AT HIS DESK, his mind consumed with worry. It had been a week since you abruptly canceled all your plans, and he hadn't heard from you since. His messages were delivered for nearly a week and according to Iroha, you hadn't left your house in days. 
Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. Jihyeon stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes filled with concern.
"Heeseung, are you okay?" she asked softly, her small voice breaking through his anxious mind.
Heeseung forced a smile, trying to hide his emotion, "I'm fine, Jihyeon. Just a little tired."
Jihyeon frowned, unconvinced by his reassurance. "But you've been pacing around your room all day, and you haven't touched your food," she pointed out, her brow furrowing with worry.
Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn't hide anything from Jihyeon; she always saw right through him.
"I'm just worried about someone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jihyeon's eyes widened with curiosity. "Is it YN?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence.
Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, it's YN. I haven't heard from her in days, and I'm starting to get really worried."
Jihyeon's expression softened, and she took a tentative step forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Heeseung. I'm sure she's okay. Maybe she just needs some time alone."
Heeseung wanted to believe her, but the nagging worry in the back of his mind refused to go away. "Hopefully."
Suddenly, Jihyeon's eyes lit up with excitement, as if she had just remembered something important. "Hey, Heeseung, do you like YN?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the question, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I
uh
what makes you ask that?"
Jihyeon shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "YN may have told me that you give her butterflies and so many other things"
Heeseung's breath caught in his throat at the revelation, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. You liked him? The realization filled him with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in days.
"I need to go find YN."he said, his voice choking with emotion.
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THE NIGHT HUNG HEAVY WITH SILENCE. Tears streamed down your cheeks; the clock ticked, marking the passing of time as you sat alone in your room.
The sudden creak of the window startled you, and you turned to see Heeseung framed against the moonlit sky. His presence sent a jolt of surprise through you. 
"Heeseung?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions.
Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words to say. "YN, I
," he started, but his voice faltered as he struggled to find the courage to speak.
"What are you doing here, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice betraying the hurt and confusion.
Heeseung took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the tears staining your cheeks. "YN, what happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice with genuine worry.
You couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his question,"Why do you care, Heeseung?" you snapped, your voice sharp"After everything that's happened, why do you even bother?"
Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "What do you mean, YN? What happened?" he asked.
The anger inside you boiled over, and you couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. "You like another girl," you said, your voice trembling with hurt and anger. "You kissed her,"
Heeseung's face looked puzzled, his eyes with confusion"YN, it's not what you think," he started, but you cut him off.
"Don't even bother, Heeseung," you said, your voice filled with resignation. "I know the truth now. I know that everything you did to me was just to play."
Heeseung's heart shattered at your words, "YN, please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice desperate. You shake your head no.
"YN, listen to me," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of your quiet sobs. "Those are all false. I never kissed anyone. I don’t like anyone but
"
You turned to face him, the tears still streaming down your cheeks as you searched his eyes.
“But  you. I like you, YN," Heeseung confessed, "More than I've ever liked anyone before."
Your eyes widened, “What?”
“I like you YN.” Heeseung confessed, before you could process anything 
For a moment, the world fell away around you as he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Lips in sync, his hands snaking around your waist. 
But all too soon, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside your room, and Heeseung pulled away, his eyes wide with panic. "YN, open the door, I brought tea," Yunah's voice called out. He realized that he was about to be caught, and he turned to you. Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours one last time. 
As you stood there, the echo of his words ringing in your ears. He liked you. Heeseung Lee liked you back. 
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THE WARM GLOW OF THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERED through the curtains, casting a soft light over the cozy living room. You sat beside him on the comfortable couch, next to Heeseung’s side as you watched a movie together.
Jihyeon sat on the floor in front of the TV, completely engrossed in the movie. Every so often, she would glance back at the two of you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she plotted her next adventure.
Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Is the movie good, angel?" he murmured, his voice soft with affection.
You nodded, leaning into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Mhmm, perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
As the movie played on, you found yourself drifting off, the gentle rhythm of Heeseung's heartbeat and the noise of Jihyeon’s laughter. 
When the movie finally came to an end, Jihyeon jumped up from her spot on the floor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can we play a game now?" she asked, bouncing up and down.
Heeseung chuckled at her enthusiasm, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Of course, Jihyeon," he said, shooting you a playful grin. "What do you want to play?"
Jihyeon's face lit up with delight as she rattled off a list of her favorite games, her energy infectious as she dragged the two of you into her world of make-believe. You and Heeseung played along with her antics, laughing and joking as you chased each other around the room, completely lost in the moment.
And as you watched Heeseung and Jihyeon, their laughter filling the air with joy, you knew that you would do anything to protect this precious moment, to hold onto it for as long as you possibly could. 
1K notes · View notes
spider-stark · 10 months ago
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GOLD
Aeron Bracken x Blackwood!Reader
Summary - You go sneaking through Bracken territory for some time alone with Aeron.
Warnings - mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, no real plot, hurt/comfort, subtle rivals-to-lovers, aeron grabbing boobies lmao, maybe some grammar errors idk
Word Count - 1.6k
!MINORS DNI!
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As the sun dips below the horizon, the beginnings of dusk paint the land around you in dim, muted hues. The forest buzzes with life—crickets chirp and frogs croak, rodents scurry through the undergrowth as birds-of-prey call out overhead. 
Unlike the nocturnal creatures around you, you take great care to stay quiet, fearing that if you don’t, the very soil beneath your boots might finally recognize you as an intruder. 
So you keep every footfall careful and deliberate; avoiding sticks and leaves in favor of plush, noiseless grass. Even your breaths are calculated, soft as the spring breeze rustling the leaves overhead. 
After all, you’re playing a dangerous game venturing this far from home. To be several miles from the vastness of Blackwood Vale, traipsing on the wrong side of the boundary stones, no less
 You were gambling with your life—fair game for any Bracken man wishing to bloody their sword with Blackwood blood. As the daughter of Lord Samwell Blackwood, you would make a fine prize, too. 
But you had grown comfortable in these woods the past several months. Familiar, too—learning which paths were best avoided and which clearings were most often used for hunting or goofing-off. You learned to remain invisible, weaving through the trees like a wraith—invisible, unseen and unheard, as you drift towards your usual meeting spot. 
Well—mostly invisible, you suppose. 
You’re less than a few feet from your spot—a glistening creek branching off from the Red Fork, several miles off any main trail—when a twig snaps! behind you. 
Your spine turns to steel, every muscle locking up as alarm bells roar in your mind. A second too late, you reach for the dagger at your thigh. Trembling fingers hardly graze the hilt before an arm wraps itself around your waist, tugging you backwards into a crushing embrace. 
A single finger jabs at your chest, just off-center between your breasts, pressing through the thin fabric of your tunic. 
Just above your heart, you realize as it hammers against your ribs. 
“Got you.” Aeron’s voice quells your nerves, warmth tickling your skin as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck. “If I were anyone else,” he murmurs, “you would be dead right now.” 
He taps his finger against your chest—once, then twice—to emphasize his point. As much as it annoys you, you know that he’s right. Anyone else and they wouldn’t have hesitated to send a blade tearing through your chest. 
You won’t admit it, though. 
“You scared me,” you grumble instead, trying to sound annoyed with him. It’s a hopeless objective—it’s too hard to be upset with him when his lips brush over your still-racing pulse, kissing up your neck. 
“Did I?” Aeron asks, playing coy. “Strange. I thought you Blackwoods claimed to be fearless.” 
Teeth graze against your earlobe, nibbling lightly. You bite your lip, twisting around in his hold so that you’re face-to-face. “And I thought Brackens were all insipid creatures,” you tease him. “So I suppose we both deviate from the norm of our Houses, don’t we?” 
Aeron laughs—a sound so sweet it makes your teeth ache. “I suppose so.” 
He pulls you closer, hands falling low on your hips. In all your life, you’ve never met someone so warm before—the sheer closeness of your bodies like standing too close to the edge of a fire. It sets your every nerve ablaze, desire coiling in your belly like a fiery serpent. 
He presses his forehead to yours and, for a moment, you assume he’s going to kiss you. 
Instead, your breaths only mingle in the space between you, his lips barely grazing yours as he whispers, “Still—I need you to be more careful. Especially here.” 
Here. 
That one word is like a bucket of water, dousing the flames lapping at your skin. Desire swiftly turns to nausea at the realization that, even in the arms of your beloved, you were still unwelcome in this part of the Riverlands. Still an intruder. 
You step back, Aeron’s hands falling from your hips. “As if you’re one to lecture me about being careful.” 
Neatly-groomed brows knit together as he watches you turn your back, abandoning him in favor of the gurgling creek. Confusion laces his words as he hurries after you. “What is that supposed to mean?” 
“That Benji has a big mouth.” You sit in your usual spot by the creek's edge, your legs stretched out in front of you. You look up at Aeron with a raised brow. “Did you truly think he wouldn’t tell me about you insulting him this morning?” 
“He was trespassing on Bracken land,” Aeron argues. 
You give him a flat look that screams: As if you’re one to talk. 
Aeron had snuck onto Blackwood land more times than you could count—with far more nefarious intentions than Benji. If your brother ever found out about all the times Aeron had snuck into your bedchambers at Raventree
 
“Well he also called me a spineless dolt,” Aeron grumbles. His lips, naturally flushed and oh-so-kissable, turn to a sullen pout. “What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and take it?” 
You fight the urge to scream Yes! at the top of your lungs. 
Instead, you draw in a breath. “You know better than to get into it with him, Aeron. You said it yourself: Blackwoods are fearless—especially Benji.” 
He shakes his head, strands of sandy-colored hair brushing his shoulders. “Feckless is more like it.” 
“Tread lightly, Bracken.” You bristle, shooting him a look of warning. “He’s still my brother.” 
He doesn’t apologize—and you don’t expect him to. After all, both of you know that there’s some truth to his words. 
Benji has always been
 difficult. 
Quick to anger and slow to forgive, he was one of many reasons why you kept your feelings for Aeron hidden. 
Your father could be persuaded to accept such a betrothal, you think. After all, it was common—if a bit futile—for Blackwoods and Brackens to wed in the name of peace. At the very least, for the sake of your happiness, he would consider it. 
But Benji
 
“I know I cannot expect you to just let him walk all over you,” you tell Aeron, a bit softer now. “But you know how Benji is.” You turn to the water by your feet. It ebbs and churns, bubbling as it laps at the stones lining the edge. “How detached he gets.” 
It petrifies you, sometimes. How, in a fight, Benji becomes someone else entirely. Should he ever decide to do more than simply taunt Aeron, you know without doubt which of them would survive such a fight. 
“If the two of you ever
 If Benji hurts you–” 
Tears sting the back of your throat, the heavy words clinging to your tongue like molasses. You don’t want to think about that—but you can’t stop, either. Silver lines your eyes, tears threatening to spill over as Aeron drops to the ground beside you. 
Without hesitation, he tells you, “You’re right.” Soft, uncalloused hands gently cup your face, urging you to look at him. He brushes a thumb along the apple of your cheek. “I was careless—to think only of my pride instead of what it might do to you if your brother
” Aeron pauses, thinking. “If he went too far. For you, I’ll take better care to hold my tongue around him.” 
Your voice is quiet, hardly perceptible over the gurgling water, when you say, “Do you promise?” 
A childish thing to ask, perhaps. 
Yet Aeron obliges without question. 
“I swear it on the Gods.” 
Slowly, relief begins to untangle the knot in your stomach. 
“But,” Aeron’s lips quirk into a small, teasing smile, “only if you swear to be more cautious when coming here. It seems you’ve gotten far too comfortable wandering through Bracken territory.” A bit more solemn, he adds, “You should walk with your dagger out, at the ready, just in case—at least while you’re still a Blackwood.” 
A wrinkle forms between your brow. “While I’m still a Blackwood?” You ask, amusement dancing in your tone as you echo his earlier words, “What is that supposed to mean?” 
“That you won’t be a Blackwood forever—eventually, your father will have to marry you off,” Aeron drones, his hands falling from your face to your waist. “Such is the natural order of things.” 
You try not to giggle as he starts pawing at you, pulling you onto his lap, your thighs caging his hips. “True—but I had no idea you spent so much time thinking of my future.” 
Aeron’s hands dip lower, moving from your waist to slip beneath the hem of your tunic. “I’m always thinking of you.” 
“Have you any particular House in mind, then?” Brushing a lock of sandy hair from his face, you jest, “I can pass your suggestions along to my father.” 
Fingertips trace along your ribcage, inching higher and higher. His palms graze your breasts and suddenly breathing becomes a difficult task—the warmth of his touch reigniting the familiar spark in your belly. 
“Well—” he leans in close, smooth lips hovering over yours—“I’m quite partial to how you might look in gold.” 
“Careful,” you warn—though it's interrupted by a hiss as he toys with your nipples, rolling and pinching, grinning at your reaction. “That almost sounds like a proposal, Bracken.” 
Aeron nearly moans into your mouth as your thighs tense, rolling your hips against his, his voice gruff as he asks, “And would that be such a horrible thing?” 
He doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t want it, maybe. 
Instead, he catches your lips with his. You melt into it—his touch, his taste. His tongue glides against yours, your fingers tangling in his hair and—for a moment—you let everything else fall away, your fears and worries fading into insignificance.  
No, you think. That wouldn’t be horrible at all.
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a/n - so I actually ended up not liking this at all once I got about halfway through editing---honestly, something about the ending just is not vibing for me and there really just isn't any true plot here lol. but, with that being said, I had already written it so I decided to go ahead and post it because there needs to be more aeron/amos bracken content in the world. and yes, I did totally just use the name aeron because I like it more than the name amos lmao.
anyways, hope you got some sort of enjoyment out of this! time for me to go write more benji ficsđŸ«Ą
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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago
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Writing Notes: Self-Editing
Editing writing draws upon different skills than creative storytelling, which makes self-editing difficult for many writers. If hiring an editor isn’t an option, you will want to improve your own editing skills to increase your writing’s readability and overall quality.
Tips for Editing Your Own Writing
Print it out. Reading your words on the printed page can help you find spelling mistakes, sentence fragments, and run-ons more easily than trying to track them down on a bright computer screen; you can even change the formatting of the text if that helps you look at it differently. Use a red pen (or any other vibrant color) to track changes or edits along the way.
Read aloud. Hearing how your writing sounds can also help you listen for lines that don’t sound right, like wishy-washy sentences, overuse of particular phrases, and unnecessary words. Sometimes a writer doesn’t realize that their sentence structure is poor or that their main point isn’t clear until they hear it read aloud (you can even use a text-to-speech program or ask someone else to read it back to you while you jot down things you notice).
Take a break. Walking away from your writing project for a period of time and coming back to it with fresh eyes can help you gain a fresh perspective by creating an emotional distance between you and your work. If you’re finding it hard to be objective, give it space—when you return to your own writing, you may find yourself with an entirely new outlook.
Keep your voice active. With active voice writing, the subject of a sentence is performing an action. That action is represented by a verb, which is the part of speech that anchors all complete sentences. While passive voice isn’t completely forbidden in a piece of writing, it’s usually a good idea to keep your tone energized, as it keeps your readers reading.
Edit line by line. A good editor will systematically go through a piece of writing line by line, and that is what you should do as well. It may take time and be a painstaking task, but if you’re editing your own work, you’ll need to look closely at the words you’ve written to find any outstanding issues like grammatical errors or typos.
Get familiar with style guides. Professional editors may come equipped with extensive editing skills, but it’s possible to learn what they know. Look up which writing style guide applies to your writing (if you’re copywriting, you’ll likely want the AP style guide, whereas fiction writing will use the Chicago Manual). Follow the proper guidelines laid out and add them to your editing checklist: Are all the commas where they should be for this particular piece? Are words properly italicized or quoted? Knowing what to look for can not only expand your editing experience but help you become a better writer.
Avoid clichĂ©s. While they appear in good writing every so often, clichĂ©s are mostly boring unless you have a unique spin on them or can integrate them in a way that doesn’t seem tired.
Embrace re-reading. Editing isn’t a one-off process, and chances are you’ll need multiple read-throughs in order to find all of your weak sentences, grammar mistakes, punctuation errors, and spelling errors.
Mind your syntax. Be on the lookout for issues with grammar and word choice. Certain words can change the whole mood or feeling of a piece, and using weak verbs and weak adjectives will only exacerbate that. Make sure your writing feels strong and clear, and use a thesaurus with caution. If you’re not exactly sure how to use a word, don’t.
Save the proofreading for last. Whether you’re copy editing for content marketing or writing the first draft of a memoir, proofreading is the very last step you should take when self-editing. As you go through your piece, you’ll be re-writing sentences and paragraphs, so searching for grammar errors or doing a spell check before your final draft will only waste more time. It’s okay if you spot errors along the way (you don’t have to ignore them), but don’t make it the first step you take when tackling your own editing.
Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Editing ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
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newmoonlover009 · 3 months ago
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Alone Time - Charlie Swan
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“It’s torture not being able to touch you.”
Charlie Swan x Fem!Reader
Summary - Since Bella’s return to Forks, you and Charlie haven’t had much time to yourselves. However, Bella’s found herself tangled with Edward Cullen, granting both of you some alone time.
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: 18+, sexual content, neck kissing, quickie, dry humping, kissing, fast-paced, and that’s all folks!
(Let me know if I missed any.)
Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes. Twilight au—details won't be accurate to the films or books—they are rewritten to fit the story.
a/n - this is an extremely fast-paced one shot—I was originally going to write a blurb, but here we are. This is for my dry humping lovers đŸ€žđŸ«¶ Enjoy!! <3
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Charlie’s arm drapes lazily around your shoulders, your side pressing against his as you’re cuddled on the couch. The muffled sound of Bella moving around upstairs grabs your attention, your eyes shifting from the glowing television screen to the ceiling. 
“Is she going somewhere?” You ask, a little hopeful. Guilt follows soon after—you don’t want her out of the house, but it’s been hard
 adjusting. 
Bella’s only been home for a short time, and while you’ve welcomed her back with open arms, you hadn’t realized how difficult the transition would be. The previous countless nights alone with Charlie became near nonexistent. In no way do you blame Bella–or Charlie–but man, you miss him. 
“I’m not sure.” Charlie’s gravelly voice is uncertain.
As soon as Bella’s footsteps stumble down the stairs, Charlie sits up and you lean away from him, peering over to watch Bella’s entrance. She looks a little more done-up than usual, a subtle pink hue cascading across the hills of her cheeks. You fight the smirk that threatens to spread across your lips. You know that look very well. 
“Hey, guys.” Bella greets the two of you while entering the living room, rounding the couch to stand in front of you both. She rocks on the heels of her feet and tucks her hands into her back pockets, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m going to head out. I’ll see you guys later?” 
She tries turning away with little explanation, but you can feel the questions beginning to radiate off Charlie. He removes his arm from around you, resting his forearms against his knees, and looks up at Bella. 
“Where are you going?” He questions. His tone isn’t interrogating, but rather genuinely curious. 
Charlie hasn’t quite read Bella’s demeanor as well as you have. Usually, she’d come clean about what she’s doing—always warning you and Charlie that she’ll be out late, who she’s going with, what she’s doing—but none of that has surfaced at this moment. She’s not exactly hiding anything, but you were a teenage girl once—Bella’s anxious. Maybe even scared. 
“Oh, um.” She hesitates, her eyes flicking up to the ceiling, then to you, and back to Charlie. “I’m going out with Edward,” her words come out slowly, before adding, “Cullen—Edward Cullen.” 
Your smirk is proving hard to fight as your eyes glance over to Charlie, who’s completely stiff and at a loss for words. You can tell he’s trying to keep an open mind, and not jump to conclusions. 
“Edward Cullen
” He repeats to himself quietly, “Dr. Cullen’s son?” 
Bella nods.
“That’s great!” You reply cheerfully. The Cullens have been a great addition to Forks. Sure, they’ve only lived here for two years, but you still find them to be a nice bunch. You’ve only interacted with Carlisle Cullen at the hospital, and occasionally with his lovely wife, Esme. 
Charlie’s not exactly fond of your response, his eyes darting to you and back to Bella. 
“Isn’t he a little old for you?” Charlie says through clenched teeth. 
“Oh, my god.” You whisper, gently smacking the side of Charlie’s thigh. “She’s seventeen, Charlie, not twelve.” 
Bella silently thanks you through her wide brown eyes, already having a hard time admitting to her dad that she’s seeing a boy. She and her dad are very alike—they keep to themselves, avoid talking about feelings, and are easily embarrassed. 
“Yeah, Dad, we’re the same age. Besides, I thought you liked the Cullens?” She finally speaks, having gained confidence from your support. 
Charlie fights the urge to roll his eyes. It’s like watching someone argue with a mirror. 
“He does.” You butt in, resting a hand on his forearm. “Have a good time, Bella.” You smile, receiving a smaller one from her. 
“Thanks.” She slowly walks over to the front door, eyeing Charlie until he’s out of her view. 
“What time will you be home?” Charlie calls over his shoulder. 
“I might be out late. I’m hanging out with his family.” She yells back, shoving her arms into a thick winter coat in front of the door. “Don’t wait up!” 
With that, she’s out of sight, the gentle slam of the door following her exit. Charlie stays frozen in his hunched-over position, eyes blindly watching the TV. He’s deep in thought, clearly coping with the fact that his daughter is officially dating. You can’t help but chuckle, moving your hand from his forearm to his back, absently rubbing wide circles between his shoulder blades. 
“Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” You admit, smiling apologetically when his head hangs. 
“I guess you’re right.” He groans, rubbing his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb, and pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“Don’t worry, I’m sure this is just the first of many relationships she’ll have.” You reason, unable to contain your laugh when Charlie glares at you. He’s never had to deal with anything like this—having not been present for the majority of Bella’s life. Not that he didn’t want to, but he wasn’t able to. 
Charlie’s focused breathing lifts his shoulders steadily, his mind computing. Your brows gently furrow when you notice a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. Now he’s really lost it, you think to yourself. 
“Talk to me,” you urge, trailing your hand from his back to his dark brown hair, gently scratching his scalp, “What are you thinking about—” However, words are lost on you when Charlie moves swiftly, turning and reaching over, repositioning you to lay on the couch. “Charlie, what are you— oh.” His lips are on your exposed neck within seconds, his knees moving skillfully to spread your legs, allowing his hips to rest snugly against yours. Your legs wrap around him, your arms snaking around his back and gripping the cotton fabric of his flannel. 
His lips move hastily against your heated flesh, the rough hair of his mustache scratching against your skin in its wake. As your breathing grows heavy, your body squirms against him, adjusting to his sudden affection. His hips are planted on yours, your breath hitching when you feel his bulge pressing against your clothed cunt.
“Don’t want to think about it.” His words mumble against your sensitive skin.
Fine by me. A soft moan releases with your shallow breaths, your legs pulling him closer, pushing his bulge snugly into you. A small noise of recognition catches in his throat when he notices your efforts, a smug smirk plastering itself on your neck. He moves his hips on his own, grinding deeply and creating consistent friction. 
The thin fabric of your leggings allows the rough material of his jeans to rub deliciously against your spread cunt. His erection grows firmer with every passing of his hips, his own grunts proving to be hard to mask with heavy breaths. 
“Charlie, I need you.” You whine, your hands finding their way into his dark loose waves and tugging his head back to look at you. 
His blown pupils signify that he needs you as much as you need him—his deep red lips shining from his assault on your neck. His hands grip the armrest of the couch where your head lays, his hips still absently moving against you. 
“It’s torture not being able to touch you.” He confesses with a strained expression, his head dipping to place his lips onto yours. 
All the times you’ve attempted to be intimate with Charlie since Bella’s return have proved to be unsuccessful. For starters, you’re uncomfortable with the idea of doing anything with her in the house—which is all the time. Except for now, of course, and you’re entirely prepared to make use of how much—or little—time you have alone with him. It’s clear that Charlie had the same intention as soon as Bella’s truck peeled out of the driveway.  
You moan into his touch, your lips moving fluidly with his as your senses are consumed by him. He continues his hip movements, slowly building pressure deep within your core. If he keeps this up, you’re surely going to finish just like this—like a couple of touch-starved college students. Although, you can’t find it in yourself to stop. His entirety surrounds you—his touch, his warmth, his smell, his taste. You’re lost in him, your rational thoughts distant.
The strength of your legs around him tightens, that familiar sensation sending rushes of arousal to your core. For every moan that crawls through your throat, Charlie’s eager lips swallow them. When he feels your desperate grasp in his hair, his tongue swipes along your lower lip, eliciting a groan from you when he floods your tastebuds. 
His movements grow faster, the couch groaning in response to the added pressure. The kiss breaks, both of your foreheads resting against each other while you breathe heavily—you because you’re nearing climax, and him because of his efforts, and likely the unbearable feeling of his erection rubbing against his boxers. 
With the change of speed, his bulge repeatedly massages against your aching clit, sending shock waves to your tightening core. The desire to want him inside you becomes intolerable, your moans growing more desperate and drawn. 
“Want you inside me, Charlie.” You beg, catching his eyes in a pleading gaze. His brows scrunch, eyes taking in your flushed appearance—plump lips slightly parted, brows furrowed, and cheeks pink. The rich browns of his eyes are nearly gone, his dark pupils dominating them, making his eyes appear black with hunger. “Please, Charlie, I’m so close. I can’t—” Can’t finish like this. 
You certainly can, but you’re unsure of when you’ll get another chance like this. Your mind is clouded with the mental image of finishing around his cock, gasping his name, and sinking your nails into his bare back—it only heightens your climax more. 
“C’mon, baby. Let go.” He whispers, dipping his head into your neck, gently sucking on the spot he knows you love. In addition, one of his hands comes down to the bottom hem of your shirt, the tips of his fingers trailing your stomach as he reaches beneath the fabric. His rugged hands gently grope your breast, his thumb rubbing over your hardened nipple. 
The mixed sensation of his lips on your neck, his hand caressing your nipple, and his erection grinding into your clit sends you into overdrive. The ability to form a thought is long gone, your mind clouded by the pure arousal that washes over you.
Your orgasm crashes into you, a surprised moan leaving your throat raw as you writhe against him. Your thighs tighten around him as your hands tug him firmly at the roots of his hair. He continues his multitasking, simultaneously giving attention to three different points of contact. 
The rush of your release dampens your underwear, surely soaking through the thin material of your leggings. The walls of your cunt uncontrollably pulse around nothing, the pattern meant to grasp at whatever, or whoever, was inside. Whispered curses push past your lips, your breath heaving as you struggle to catch it. Given the lack of skin-to-skin contact, you hadn’t expected your orgasm to hit so hard.
Once he’s sure you’ve ridden out your climax, his movements slow to a halt—his lips disconnecting from your neck leaving gentle pecks behind, his hand retreating from your shirt while tracing your soft skin, and his hips stilling, but pushing hard against you. 
When his eyes finally meet yours, you both giggle breathlessly, the matter of the situation dawning on you both. You silently blame the heat of the moment, both of you blushing from just how ridiculous your actions were. 
“Couldn’t have waited till we got upstairs?” You laugh, releasing your grip on his hair and resting your hands on his waist. 
“We can do that too.” He grins, leaning back and staring down at you. 
“But what if Bella—”
“I’m not done with you yet.” He cuts you off. 
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Hope you enjoyed it! If you want, as it would be greatly appreciated, let me know if you prefer shorter one-shots or longer ones?
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idontcare4urmom · 11 months ago
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wrong || matt sturniolo
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stepbrother!matt x fem!reader
summary: where your dad found a new woman on his life after one year of your mom's death,so you are forced to live all together after a lot of pressure,but what you didn't know yet is that her son is a total temping being that will send you over the edge..in many ways.
warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex,not proofread,porn with plot,dirty talk,eating out,pet-names,suggestive,scratching,tits sucking,etc.
a/n: my first language is not English,this sure has some grammar or other errors so i am sorry<3
."🎀".
"what the fuck you mean we have to move in with her?" you were basically shouting on your dad,and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the fact that he had moved on so far already or cause he didn't even cared to ask you if you acknowledge with it.
"i told you too many times that this is a very big and important step to me honey,besides her place is absolutely flawless,you will love it" his words only made you angrier,but you decided not to push it anymore since you knew deep down it would be waste of time,he had made his decision.
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the days passed quickly,and you found yourself holding your suitcase in front of a captivating building that would change a part of your life for many years,at least your dad did not lie,it was trully more than luxurious,so with a deep sigh you walked until the doorway with him,your anxious levels on high.
after a few knocks the door opened to reveal a surprisingly tall,appealing woman standing there,with brunette silky highlights and a pretty good enough shaped body,the sight made you furrow although you could tell why your father had fallen for her.you were caught off guard when you were the one she even pulled into an embrace first and seemed in general eager to meet you.
"oh sweetie your dad has told me many things about you,i am Lana,come in,come in" you didn't had much time to process because she was pushing your hand gently inside,your eyes widening as you took in the house with your eyes,it was for sure bringing vibes of a cozy,modern place.
you didn't want to be in your normal pissy mood for the reason that she was treating you politely for now,so you made a small comment "wow,the decoration is really nice"
"oh thank you,i want you to be comfortable and feel welcomed here,you can go check the guest room that will be your own,is down the hall,if you need any help just call out my name" you nodded a little and began making your way towards the apparently new space you will probably spend most of the day at.
but,without realizing a sudden unrecognized human figure appeared in front of you while making it's way to another room,making you leave a small yelp from your lips "who are you?"
the blye eyed boy raised an eyebrow once he heard the question,letting a sarcastic laugh as he spoke "very ironic for someone to ask when they are the one in my house" oh? well he had sure attitude for the few seconds you had met him. you were about to say something in response even so he continued, a sheepish grin forming on his lips when he examined your presence through his dark eyelashes "wait..you must be my stepsister"
"huh?" was the only word you could express,you were incredibly confused--who was he? "i am Lana's son, Matt,no one informed you about me?" it was like he was able to read your thoughts,it only creeped you out more.
"no..my father must forgot to announce your existence to me" the words snarked out of your tongue as you were trying hard to act sassy,but for a disguise,cause shit the more you were observeting him the more perfect he got.
he had the necessary amount of beard to sense in case he ever trailed kisses down your body,his blue orbs seemed like they could stare deep into your soul yet in a enjoyable way,and hell those fingers were too distracting for no reason,especially with those silver rings that were practically begging for attention.just any of his facial features were ideal--however you weren't supposed to fall for him,it would be wrong.
you snapped out of your thoughts when there was a sound of a familiar voice snapping across the end of the hall,approaching the both of you excitedly,even though she was addresing specifically to you "i see you guys met,sorry darlin' i forgot to have a quick chat with you about that i have a kid..anyway he may be a pain sometimes but i am sure you will get along well with him"
--------------------------------
two weeks have passed,and she was completely wrong.every day the urge of smashing a bottle on top of his head is only increasing,he would suddenly barg into your bedroom searching for his own belongings,asserting that he often lost things by accident since he is being here from time to time--why? his set-up pc is on your area for years now.
despite that,his own bedroom is just a few steps away from yours,you have been struggling with sleeping peacefully cause he would blast music on his speaker at 2-3 am,you are almost confirmed that he must be doing it on purpose--and it doesn't end here,there is worse.
you are aware of a guy having 'needs' so the occasional echo of moaning could be heard to you from the thin paper walls,you swear that it's music to your ears and you feel like your mind is sabotaging you.he is annoying,that though didn't stopped you from having a weird desire rising in you for him,a pang on your chest with guilt for possessing the most unholy fantasizes whenever he would roam around in just a pair of sweatpants.
with all this being said,you produced a baffling bond with Matt,signs showing that he is on the same page as you,which leads you to today.laying down on your bed with your phone on your hands,stressfully ignoring his presence a few meters away.him entirely concentrated on his screen computer playing--God knows what--video games,with the controller on his hands.the silense more than unbearable.
you were determined to prove to yourself that maybe you can spend some time with him,you took advantage of him not wearing any headphones and lightly tapped his shoulder,pointing towards the black console afterwards "can i try?" you anticipated for his response,silently hoping that he doesn't mind.
Matt was kind of surpised by your request,nevertheless he had finished the round so he nodded "umh..sure" he slid off from the gaming chair while handing you the controller,your fingers barely brushing with his yet enough to make your head spinning.
you rested your body on the mesh fabric as he sat on the bed,and with a glance of the buttons you were clueless of the task in hand,not having any idea on how to participate in the online game.luckily,he noticed the confused look written on your face so he came next to you and started to make a fast learning lesson,
he taught you how to jump,how to run,how to kill,and other features you require to have in case of a proper match.as he did so,you caught him taking a few glimpses of your chest--it's not like he could help it,your crop top was exposing a certain amount of your cleavage,making it hard for him to focus.
a devilish smile curled to your face when you noticed,feeling bold enough to adjust down the shirt such as leaving only your breasts covered--matt could feel his heart beat raising,the temperature of the room turning thick once he stopped talking.
"can you show me how to jump again? i don't think i get it" you spoke,a hint of suggestiveness leaking from your tone--and he didn't want more than just to devour you right there, your father and his mother had left for shopping,so you were both totally alone which sent shivers down your back,
the tension bloomed into a insufferable feeling between the two of you,causing your breath to hitch around your throat,especially when you felt his fingers starting to touch yours fully in attempt to answer your previous 'request'.a hushed gasp breaking out from you when there was a unexpected hand gesture tracing your thigh in a agonizingly pace--screw this.
with a smooth shift of your face and waist you palmed his cheeks,bringing his lips to yours into a fiery dance.he didn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth,impatiently exploring your taste before nipping down your bottom lip,eliciting a moan from you that get's shallowed against him,
the sound you made vibrated through matt's whole body,landing directly straight to his core and he could feel his jeans growing tight around his crotch,he didn't ever remembered himself getting hard from just a making out session--he craved more,he needed more,and so did you.
his hands started travelling their way to your stomach,crawling upwards until he squeezed your nipples over the fabric of your top and reaching to lift it up, "is this okay?" you nodded desperately at the question,he didn't wasted time by taking it off over your head,unclasping with one motion your bra afterwards to shower your bare chest with open-mouthed kisses,
your hums of approval soon turned into whimpers when he wrapped his mouth on the flesh of your left breast,swirling his tongue around it while his hand pinched the other between his free fingers,he repeated his actions by giving the same treatment to your right one after.
with a loud pop he pulled away,slowly reaching under the gaming chair so he is on his knees,his eye pupils half-lidded and fluttering over your face before he yanks off your shorts with panties,exposing your already wet dripping pussy to his hungry gaze,
"fuck you are soaked,how long have you been dreaming this? have you been waiting for me to finally pleasure you sweetheart?" you could him mutter cooing through gritted teeth,licking at your thighs in a intractable speed as he itches towards the arching spot in between your legs,lavishing his attention there as he made a long stripe up on your clit,making you buck your hips against his face shamelessly,
your nails found his hair,gripping and tugging on it for support,dragging a hiss from his mouth as he began to lap on your juices like you were his last meal,you started riding his face while whining pathetically,the obsence resounds filling the room as he continued to satisfy you.
his index finger rubbed your entrance,letting you shaking for more and barely hearing his gagged whispers "you taste so fucking amazing,such an intoxicating cunt",your lower abdomen started quivering into the familiar knot,reminding you of your approaching release,making you clench uncontrollably around his mouth,
"come on,finish all over face baby" matt sneered out when he sucked on robs of your pre-cum, your lips forming a perfect 'o' shape in the same time you swirled your digits on his roots so his head is forced to be still there,with a long pornographic moan you erupted,spurting thick,white jets that made your legs glistening.
after pulling away he swooped you into his arms,carrying you bridal-style on the mattress of the bed,him laying down firstly before grasping your sides stronly,helping you to be on top of him as he guided your hips so you can push against his clothed erection,the sensation maddening for the both of you.
your still sensitive heat grinded back and forth,feeling his cock poking under you so your hands progress to tug the zipper of his jeans down,sliding them down along with his boxers to his ankles in a way of exposing his throbbing tip,you usually didn't liked how dicks looked but matt's was different; a needy tenderness to have it deep inside you,he adjusted with ease the head down your folds,and with no doubt you sinked down on his length.
a unbidden squeal slipped from you as he grunted repeatedly,his grunts turned into loud groans of pure filthiness as soon as you started bouncing yourself,your tight walls squelching him, sending him closer to the edge even though it hadn't passed a minute of you riding him,his back arching forward which gave you the opportunity of scratching down the skin of his behind shoulders,
"such a good girl,fucking yourself on your stepbrother's cock, such a whore f'me" his words actually made you feel pitiful yet encouraging your movements to speed up their pace,his hips thrusting up to meet yours so he can pound into your hole frequently, "c-close" you panted out,your second orgasm increasing through you as your walls clinged around him,the actions driving matt insane "going to fill you up,do you want that? do you want me to cum inside you?"
you miserably sobbed in bliss and let a ''hphm'' of approval,before you knew it matt had busted,his climax exploding extremely hard into your pussy,following suit after him with your head throwed back and stopping after a minute so you can pull yourself out of him,both of you being a panting mess,
"that was incredible" "i am never letting you to even enter my room again"
------------------------------------
evelyn speaks!! thank you so much for 250 followers jixijcmjg,my last post with Matt got more than 800 notes likeee insane,thank you ALL for the support it means everything xoxođŸ€đŸ€
tags! @writtensturn @pixiespax @verywonderlandpolice @itsnotmariahh @user9383738392 @monroesturnns @badussybumper @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @shadowthesim
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al-the-remix · 9 months ago
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BuckTommy Positivity Week Day 2: nicknames and terms of endearment
thank you to the @bucktommypositivityweek mods for putting this together so quickly! please overlook any spelling/grammar errors...it normally takes me 5-7 business days to catch them all (if even) and I really wanted to write something for this event. Rated: E ‱ 2K ‱ Fluff, Romance, Humour, And some smut at the end.
Of all the things Buck thinks may prove to be a speed bump in his first relationship with a dude, (phrasing he’s still getting ragged for), like who gets to be the big spoon, if he was going to have to start buying his own shampoo (the bottle Natalie left in his shower had entered a critical state of near empty), the whole dick situation, none of them actually turn out to be much of an issue. 
As it happens Tommy is pretty indifferent when it comes to their sleeping arrangements (together, preferably); he offers to drop by the CVS and pick up more shampoo for Buck when he realizes he’s out (are you sure Herbal Essence is really what you want?); and let's just say Buck finds he takes to cock like a duck to water. 
In the end, he’s so busy worrying about whether Tommy would want to be the little spoon on occasion, or if his boyfriend now thinks he doesn’t know how to wash his hair, he completely overlooks one of the most obvious hurdles of them all: pet names. 
And the worst part is that it’s totally a one sided issue. “Sweetheart” slips out of Tommy’s mouth so easy and so smooth, his tone warm like butter sliding around a hot pan, just a little gravelly, especially first thing in the morning and late at night. The word rolls down Buck’s spine like condensation, gaining speed, to pool warm and liquid in the cradle of his hips. Tommy makes it sound so natural: a little cocky, a little, flirty, a little tongue and cheek, like the word was created to be formed by his lips and not the other way around.
Buck tries it out in the mirror one time, it’s clunky and awkward and he embarasses himself too much to keep going. He’d been surprised, maybe even a little underwhelmed (in a good way), by how few differences there really were when it came to dating men vs. women. Sure, he didn’t think any of his previous girlfriends would have been charmed if he tried one of his new grappling moves on them pre-fuck (but he bet he could proabally find a woman who did if he tried hard enough), and the stubble burn on his ass was new but not all that different from eating a girl out one week post bikini wax–the important part was the kisses felt the same, Tommy’s skin didn’t taste any different against Buck’s tongue, and his heartbeat still fluttered high in his throat when Tommy looked at him and smiled or reached out to interlace their fingers. 
The point was, the things that do stand out to him about Tommy: his strength, the way he carries himself, how he’s in equal measures serious and goofy and sarcastic in a way that has Buck bubbling fondness and unable to hold back his grin, makes it difficult for Buck to come up with an enderment he feels encompassess all of that. He’s probably overthinking it (he definitely is), but it wasn’t the first time Tommy had left him reeling and feeling slightly unmoored, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, so he better pull himself up by his bootstraps and get to work.
Buck decides the best way to feel Tommy out was to work it into casual conversation. An experiment of sorts. He’s already got a list of potential options on his phone; he leaves sweetheart off it because it just doesn’t sound right coming out of anyone’s mouth but Tommy’s. 
Tommy’s working in the garage when Buck decides to give his first option a go. The heat spiked around noon, and Tommy’s got a box fan blasting in the corner of the room. He’s still got a massive gray splotch on the center of his back where his shirt is stuck to his skin and Buck’s a little surprised (and disappointed) that hasn’t ditched it yet. 
“Hey honey, it’s smokin’ in here, do you want some water?”
Tommy jerks, bumping his head on the hood of the Charger. Buck winces. The look Tommy shoots over his shoulder is an incredulous one, rubbing at the back of his head. “I’m sorry, what did you just call me?”
Buck crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not backing down now. “Honey.”
Tommy raises a brow. “What, are you going to make me a sandwich too? Get me a beer?”
Buck throws his hands in the air because he can, he knows Tommy finds his dramatics charming, the poor sucker. He turns on his heel, a smile eating away at the corner of his mouth. “I was just trying to be nice, but if you’re fine–”
Tommy lunges out and hooks his fingers in the waistband of Buck’s shorts, reeling him back. “Whoa, wait a second. I didn’t go that far
”
Buck is very happy to let himself be dragged into the circle of Tommy’s arms, broad hands slipping into his back pockets. Tommy smells a little funky, like sweat and grease and the spearmint gum he likes to chew when he’s working with his hands, an old habit from quitting nicotine post-military. 
He slips his fingers under the damp cotton at Tommy’s waist, rolling the hem of his shirt up inch by inch. “Well, what do you want then?”
Tommy gives him a quick peck on the lips. “I can think of a few things, but water does sound pretty good right now.”
Buck leans in for another kiss, letting this one linger. “Mmm, alright.”
“What,” Tommy drawls, “No, ‘alright, honey’?”
Buck slaps him hard on the ass, Tommy letting out a full body “oof” a Buck steps out of the circle of his arms. 
“Maybe later if you ask nicely.” Buck wags a finger at him as he walks slowly backwards towards the door to the house. Pretty proud of himself when he doesn’t trip over the first step.
Well, he can scratch that one off the list. 
The next up is babe, which Buck regrets almost immediately. 
“Babe, do you know where my running shoes ended up?” he calls down from the loft, and gets in return: “Where you left them babe, right on top of mine!”
Tommy spends the rest of the day parroting him, “pass the remote, babe–do you need me to pick anything up on my way home, babe--don’t drop the soap, babe–” and Buck thinks it’s best to lay that one to rest before he goes insane. 
It becomes clear that the rest aren’t going to make the cut either and Buck decides to take the opportunity to have some fun with it instead. “Honeybun” makes Tommy snort coffee out his nose; “Gumdrop”, specifically employed in front of Eddie, makes Tommy glow, pleased and a little flustered at being razzed about it by his new friend; “Lover” makes the corners of Tommy’s mouth writhe and his eyes roll and his nose scrunch up like he’s sort of embarrassed by how much he likes that one, (Buck slips that information into his back pocket for later).
They all live within the sliding scale of reactions Buck expects from him: fondness and humor and affection. It’s not until he reaches the end, the one Buck had almost not bothered putting on the list it was so commonplace, that he elicits a reaction that makes him pause. 
Tommy’s in the kitchen, kneading pasta dough into a soft ball, they’re making handmade ravioli to take to a housewarming potluck at Bobby and Athena’s new place, when Buck asks: “Baby, what time are we supposed to be leaving again?” and watches the back of Tommy’s neck flush a vibrant red. Interesting. 
Buck doesn’t draw attention to it. He doesn’t push or tease. He just drops it into their conversations, here and there, not frequently enough to really give Tommy a reason to call him out on it, though Buck finds it telling that he never does. It’s obviously having some effect on him, albeit a silent one: high color rising in Tommy’s cheeks, his eyes casting quickly down and away. 
Buck waits for the right moment to really set the hook and see what he can draw out; it’s just chance that that perfect moment happens to be when they’re naked in bed. 
Tommy’s legs are hooked around his waist and his fingertips are digging white crescents into Buck’s biceps where he’s gripping him like he’s holding on for dear life. His eyes keep circling down to where Buck is spreading him open then back up to catch Buck’s gaze like a closed circuit.
The cling of Tommy’s body is slick and sweet, and he looks up at Buck like Buck's giving him everything he wants and he can’t quite believe how good it is. His eyelids droop like he’s struggling to keep them open and Buck swoops down to capture Tommy’s mouth in a kiss. Tommy moans into it and Buck can feel where his cock is kicking insistently against his stomach, wet and hot to the touch. Buck curls a fist around it, stroking him from base to tip and watches the way his eyelashes flutter and his mouth drops open in silent pleasure. 
Tommy’s other hand slips from Buck’s biceps to his back when Buck dislodges it so he can brace himself on one arm, get a little closer, suck wet kisses into the razor edge of Tommy’s jawline. He slows their rhythm down a little, grinding in with deep swivels of his hips. Tommy’s knees pinch tight at Buck’s sides and he manages to pry his eyes open just enough to sweep his gaze down to where Buck’s stroking him and his rim is stretched nice and slick and pink around Buck’s cock, and back up again. His pupils are blown wide and his hands twitch on Buck’s lower back, slipping down to the meat of his ass, pawing at him, pulling him in–
“You're going to come aren’t you? I can feel it,” he says right in Tommy’s ear. 
“Evan–” Tommy cuts himself off on a moan, his nails dig a little deeper into Buck’s skin, and Buck barely feels it; all of his attention narrowed down to jacking Tommy off and fucking into him at the angle that makes get all tight and twitchy, his muscle tensing up, panting all hot and heavy against Buck’s temple. 
“Common, I want you to,” Buck says, flicking his wrist tight and fast at the head in the way he knows will finish Tommy off quick. “Tommy–Baby–Let me feel it.”
Tommy’s brow crumples and Buck gets to feel the pulse of his heartbeat in his hand and around his cock as Tommy comes undone, slicking his chest with thick, white streaks. 
Buck presses his face into the damp crescent of Tommy’s neck and rabbits his final few strokes into the hot clutch of Tommy’s ass. He can taste the salt on Tommy’s skin as he groans against it, rolling his hips indulgently as his cock softens. 
Tommy strokes his back as he pulls away, arm falling to the side as Buck gets up to ditch the condom. He’s staring up at the pebbly stucco of the bedroom ceiling when Buck returns to bed. “No one’s ever called me that,” he says quietly, contemplatively. 
Buck shuffles closer till he’s pressed up along his side, draping an arm over Tommy’s midsection to anchor himself. Buck finds that hard to believe. He can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t want Tommy to be their baby, but he’s glad he’s Buck’s.
“Well, it’s only fair that I’m your first for something too.”
Tommy rolls his head to the side, a dopey smile on his face. He looks fucked stupid and Buck feels unbearably fond about it. 
“Sweet talker,” Tommy accuses softly, hooking two fingers under Buck’s chin and pulling him into a kiss. 
Yeah, Buck thinks, I like the sound of that.
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vanteguccir · 10 months ago
Note
ACCIDENTALLY MAKING MATT HARD—i’m not sure if you’ve written this before, but imagine this be at the beginning stages of your relationship with him. you two have never done anything more than kissing and you freak out when it happens
ㅀㅀㅀㅀㅀㅀMAKING HIM HARD * MATT STURNIOLO
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SUMMARY :: where Y/N accidentally makes Matt hard for the first time
FEATURING Matt Sturniolo x reader
WARNINGS :: making out
AUTHOR'S NOTE :: that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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Y/N could feel Matt’s hands roaming over her back, pulling her closer. She let herself sink into the moment, the sensation of his lips against hers sending a shiver down her spine. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer. The room seemed to shrink around them, their world narrowing to just the two of them and the intensity of their kiss.
As the kiss deepened, Y/N shifted slightly, pressing herself more firmly against Matt. Suddenly, she felt a distinct hardness against her stomach. Her eyes flew open, and she pulled back, her cheeks flushing a deep red. She looked down at Matt, who appeared equally flustered, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion.
"Did I... Did I do that?" Y/N stammered, her voice a mixture of surprise and disbelief. Her eyes darted from Matt’s face to the obvious bulge in his jeans right above where her clothed pussy was sat, and she felt a giggle bubbling up inside her.
Matt’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, if that was possible. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, clearly at a loss for words. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, completely unsure of how to respond.
Y/N’s initial shock quickly turned into amusement. She couldn’t help but laugh, the sound filling the room and breaking the tension. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her laughter but failing miserably.
Matt looked even more embarrassed, pressing his lips in a thin line.
"I... I’m sorry." He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t mean to... I mean, I couldn’t help it. You’re just so..."
Y/N waved her hand dismissively, still giggling.
"No, no, it’s okay, Matt. It’s just... I didn’t realize I could have that effect on you." She shook her head, her laughter finally subsiding.
Matt managed a small, sheepish smile, his blue eyes still wide with shyness.
"Of course you have! I mean... you're so pretty and hot and..." He took a deep breath, avoiding her eyes. "I guess I was a bit... surprised." He admitted. "I mean, it’s not like we’ve done more than kiss before."
Y/N nodded, her smile turning softer. She reached out, placing her hand gently on Matt’s cheek.
"It’s okay. Really. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all." She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "It’s actually kind of flattering."
Matt’s eyes softened at her words, and he let out a small, relieved breath.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Y/N confirmed, her smile widening while her eyes looked deeply inside of his.
"That's good." Matt whispered, his eyes going to her plump lips to her eyes and back again.
Y/N licked her own, lowering her upper body again and pressing her lips to his in another deep kiss. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate and sensual, as if they were both savoring the moment.
© vanteguccir
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darlingsblackbook · 7 months ago
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The Silence Between Us - 2
Alhaitham x Reader
Summary : oh, how in love you are with him, how happy you are to be with him...but does he feel the same?
Warnings : Hurt/comfort
AN : English is not my first language. If there are any spelling/grammar errors, please let me know♡
Part One
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Time passed slowly after I left Sumeru. Each day felt like a blur, the pain of walking away from Alhaitham lingering in every moment. I had thought that putting distance between us would ease the ache, but it hadn’t.
If anything, it just made me realize how much I missed him. Not just his presence, but the small things—his quiet strength, the way he saw the world through logic, the way he sometimes listened to my rambling thoughts with a half-interested nod.
But I couldn’t go back. Not unless something changed. Not unless he could meet me halfway, and not simply out of logic or obligation.
I spent weeks outside of the city, traveling through Sumeru’s rainforests and deserts, hoping that the vast, open skies would somehow heal the fracture in my heart. But the more time passed, the more I found myself thinking about him. I missed him, more than I had ever thought possible. Even though he had hurt me, even though his words still echoed in the quiet of my mind, I couldn’t erase him from my heart.
But I had left for a reason. I couldn’t go back to a relationship where I felt like I was always reaching, always chasing after someone who didn’t want to be caught.
°‱♡‱°
I was in Aaru Village when I saw the familiar figure standing at the outskirts, arms crossed, his usual unreadable expression in place. My heart stopped, and for a moment, I thought I was imagining things. But as I approached, his gaze locked onto mine.
"Alhaitham?"
He didn’t move, just stood there like a statue, waiting. My chest tightened, unsure of what to say or how to feel. I hadn’t expected him to come after me. That wasn’t something Alhaitham would do. Not unless
 something had changed.
“You left,” he said, his voice low, his gaze unwavering.
“I did.” I shifted uneasily, crossing my arms over my chest. “You weren’t expecting me to stay, were you?”
He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching mine, as if trying to find the right words. “I didn’t
 anticipate it,” he admitted, his voice more reserved than usual. “But your departure wasn’t unforeseen. I knew you were unhappy.”
Unhappy. That word didn’t even begin to cover the storm of emotions I had felt. But I held my tongue, letting him speak.
“I’ve spent the past few weeks
 thinking,” he continued, his eyes softening ever so slightly. “About you. About us. About what I said.”
I didn’t respond, my heart racing as I waited for him to say more. Alhaitham wasn’t the type to express his feelings easily. I knew that. But I also knew that this was difficult for him.
“I said things that hurt you,” he said, and I was surprised to hear the faint trace of regret in his tone. “Things I didn’t fully understand at the time. And for that, I
 apologize.”
My breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t sure I had ever heard him apologize for anything before.
“I’ve never been
 good with emotions,” he continued, his gaze falling to the ground for a moment before meeting mine again. “I see the world in terms of logic, efficiency, and reason. I assumed the same approach would apply to a relationship. But I failed to recognize that it’s not that simple. That you needed more from me than I was willing to give.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. His words were quiet, but they hit me harder than any grand gesture could have. This was Alhaitham trying to understand, trying to meet me where I stood. And that alone felt like a step I hadn’t thought he’d be able to take.
“I wasn’t
 fair to you,” he said softly. “I made you feel like you were a burden, when in reality, I was the one who couldn’t adapt. I didn’t consider what you needed, only what I thought made sense.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I had to blink them away. Hearing him say this—hearing him acknowledge how much he had hurt me—was more than I had ever expected. But I needed more. I needed to know if anything had truly changed.
“Why are you here, Alhaitham?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “Is this just because you think it’s the logical thing to do? To come find me and apologize?”
He shook his head, a small sigh escaping him. “No. I’m here because I want to be. Because
” He hesitated, the words sticking in his throat as if they were foreign to him. “Because I miss you.”
My heart clenched at those words. I could see the struggle in his eyes, the difficulty in expressing something so personal, so vulnerable. For Alhaitham, this wasn’t easy. But he was trying. And that meant more to me than anything.
“I miss you, Y/N,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time. “Not because it’s logical. Not because it makes sense. But because
 I realized that without you, everything else feels
 empty.”
Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from pain. I could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he was trying to bridge the gap between us. He was still Alhaitham—still logical, still quiet—but there was something more there now.
Something softer.
Something real.
“I’m not asking you to forget what I said,” he continued, stepping closer. “I know I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But I want to try again. If you’ll let me.”
I stood there for a long moment, letting his words sink in, feeling the weight of them. This was what I had wanted all along—for him to see me, to meet me where I stood. And now, he was offering that. But it wasn’t just about him saying the right words. It was about whether I could trust him, trust us, again.
“I need you to understand something, Alhaitham,” I said, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. “I love you. I always have. But I can’t be in a relationship where I feel like I’m constantly chasing after someone who doesn’t want to be caught. I need more than just logic. I need to feel like you care. That I’m not just an afterthought.”
He nodded slowly, his expression serious. “I understand that now. And I want to be better. For you. I don’t have all the answers, and I’m still learning. But I’m willing to try. To give you what you need. Even if it’s not easy for me.”
I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the man I had fallen for. The man who was flawed, but who was trying. And that was enough.
With a shaky breath, I closed the distance between us, reaching out to take his hand. He looked down at our joined hands, as if it was still something he was getting used to, but he didn’t pull away. Slowly, his fingers curled around mine, holding on.
“I’ll give us another chance,” I whispered, my heart racing. “But we need to work on this together. Both of us.”
Alhaitham nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at me. “Together.”
And in that moment, I knew that while the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, we could find our way back to each other. Because for the first time, Alhaitham wasn’t just relying on logic. He was letting himself feel, letting himself open up.
And that made all the difference.
♡
And they lived a happily ever after
Taglist : @0lives10 @96jnie @numblytemporary @mitsumina12345
All Rights Reserved © 2024 DarlingsBlackBook
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f1goat · 1 year ago
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more than friends + lando norris x part five
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In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.
masterlist - playlist
warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors
requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things (ofc pretending for it to bot mean anything), while he’s actually in love with her
part one / part two / part three / part four
You can’t help yourself and stare at Lando, just like a lot of others are doing right now. He’s absolutely glowing and taking in the attention he’s getting. After his deleted lap time from yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. Right now he’s standing on the podium claiming his well deserved trophy for the second place in the race. You smile while staring at him. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good. 
“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you later day afternoon. He’s still glowing from his podium. You can smell the faint odor from the champagne. You wonder about kissing Lando, will you taste it then? Lando doesn’t talk at first, he just hugs you. You continue to praise him in the mean time. 
“You know what this means, right baby?” Lando eventually whispers into your ear. You think back at his words from yesterday. Is he serious? “I want you to get into my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debriefing,” Lando tells you. 
You feel your cheeks heating up and reddening. Fuck. 
“Can you wait there for me babygirl?” Lando asks you. You can only nod as response, if you even knew what to say right now you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over your socials. 
Lando walks away from you. You know what to do now. Lando was clear about his wishes, and who are you to deny them from him? Without giving it a second thought, you walk towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are. Instead of talking to the mechanics who are still here instead of getting ready to party, you walk directly towards Lando his drivers room. They let you. 
In Lando his drivers room you suddenly start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando coming this close to your private parts. What if they don’t look good enough? You try to shake off those thoughts. 
You know that a debrief can cost some time, so you try to kill the time by scrolling on your socials. You like every post about Lando his podium. When you see a notification from Lando popping up on your screen, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?
Lando: 5 minutes babe
Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes ;)
The thought of waiting for Lando while being in your lingerie only - or maybe even naked, makes you feel all kind of things. Your stomach is tightening by only the thought already. You don’t even realize that you’re already kicking of your sneakers. It feels like everything is happening on some sort of automatic pilot. You don’t even think about the possibility of other people walking in to this room. Even though the possibility is kinda high. You don’t care about things like that right now. In no time is the floor covered in the clothes you were wearing earlier. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a black set, nothing to exciting, but it does look nice. You doubt a bit if you want to keep it on or off. Eventually you decide to take it off as well. 
Thank god for the warm weather today, because you’re already shivering from only the thought that Lando can come in any second. It feels weird to wait here for him while being naked. You realize that Lando never saw you naked before. All the cons are weighting up, but you can’t stop thinking about Lando finding you like this. Will this be what he expected? Or will this be a surprise for him? 
When the door opens you start to feel extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. You’re relieved when you see that Lando is the one to open the door. He is quick to close the door when he sees you waiting for him. After that he’s even quicker to get towards you. 
Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring and that there’s a chance that it makes you feel uncomfortable right now. But he really can’t look away from you. He never saw you like this before. All the things that happened between the two of you before, happened with you in clothes. He can’t say he didn’t imagine about your body before, but in some way it’s even more beautiful then he already thought. He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body. 
He looks at your breasts and notices the way your nipples resemble small pebbles. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to take your nipple into his mouth until he felt the hardness of it on his tongue, only to switch over to your other nipple after that. He lets his stare slide towards your most private part. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other, causing him to imagine the way your pussy will look. 
It can’t be right that you’re without a doubt the girl who has the most impact on him. Seeing you like this has made him rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He remembers himself that this is about you - and not about him. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes.
You feel uncomfortable when Lando doesn’t say anything. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? When you start to think about questioning him about it, Lando lets out a soft sound. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. You notice that he’s looking at you full with adoration, or are you making that up? 
Lando comes closer and closer to you. When he’s finally close enough, he eagerly puts his mouth onto your lips. He gives you a soft peck on the lips before moving the two of you towards the couch in the drivers room. Lando pulls you onto his lap, instead of normally this time he makes sure you face him. He doesn’t want your body to get out of his sight right now. 
He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. Then he presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect to walk into you being naked already,” Lando continues to say to you, “Such a beautiful surprise,” he adds before pressing his lips against your body again. He presses multiple kisses against your body, at first closely to your collarbone again but after a bit he moves his lips down. He’s getting close to your breasts. 
You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. Lando grunts. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes on of your breasts into his hand, he kneads it while looking at you. 
“You’re such a good girl,” he tells you.
Your stomach tightens. You feel your cheeks reddening. Why are those small words doing so much to you? You’re glad that Lando isn’t paying attention to your face, because you’re sure that it’s reddish from blushing this much. Lando is busy paying attention to your breasts. He lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He is still kneading on of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against the other tit. He presses soft kisses against it, before sucking on the skin. You quietly follow Lando his movements with your eyes. It doesn’t take him long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. Softly you feel him suck onto it. 
When Lando pulls back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando switches his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, to put it back onto the other one. He presses kisses against your tit that he was kneading earlier. Before you realize it, your other nipple is in his mouth. 
It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you that you even start to feel that you’re getting pretty wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, but you can’t complain about one tiny part of it.
Lando removes his lips and hand from your breasts again. This time he moves his hands downwards, he is quick to get close to your private parts. It annoys you when he doesn’t touch you where you need him, but keeps a bit above of the place. Suddenly without realizing it, you let out a soft whine. 
“What’s wrong babygirl?” Lando asks you. You notice the small smirk on his face. It makes you realize that he’s doing this on purpose. What a tease. You can’t tell him that, every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling.
“I need you,” you softly whimper.
Lando lets out a low groan. Fuck, what you just told him makes him even harder. That’s actually insane. He moves his hands away from your vagina even further. He softly lifts you up and puts you next to himself onto the couch. Only to get of the couch himself after that. He takes your legs into his hands. Slowly he spreads your legs for him. 
You look at Lando. He doesn’t look back at you. All his attention is onto your slit. Before you can feel uncomfortable about it, Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.
“Such a pretty pussy,” Lando tells you with a low voice. He lets his hand slide around it carefully. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance, he focuses himself onto your lips. He enjoys teasing you a bit. This is his celebration after all, right? He looks at the frustrated emotions that you’re displaying on your face. He realizes that you really need him. Lando never wants you to need anyone else. 
He softly spreads your lips a bit with his hands. 
“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you. 
This time he slides his finger through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. He coats his finger in your slick. 
“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.
He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thighs. 
“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you.
“Yes,” you tell him eagerly.
“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando continues to ask you. He needs to hear you say it. He needs to hear it that this is all because of him. 
“You Lando,” you softly confess, “It’s all for you.”
Lando lets out a soft moan after hearing your words. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. He moves a bit closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine. 
“I need more Lando,” you tell Lando a bit ashamed. 
Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time. He’s quick to move away from it after making his move.
“More,” you whimper.
Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure that it’s not enough. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. Suddenly he starts to think about you begging him. The thought is making him even harder. He looks at you. How hot would it be if you ask him to lick you? 
“What do you need baby?” Lando asks you. 
He makes sure that his finger is laying dangerously close to your clit right now. Almost onto it, but still a bit too far away. 
“You,” you whimper.
“No, no,” Lando tuts, “I asked you, what do you need? What do you want me to do babygirl?”
You stay silent for a bit. Lando moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. It’s unfair what he’s doing to you. It’s even more unfair how fast he can make you feel like this. For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can make you ever feels like this, you highly doubt it.
“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t make you feel any better,” Lando teases you. 
“Fuck,” you groan, “Tease.”
“Just tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease you. 
“I want you to, fuck,” you stutter, “I want you to lick me.”
Lando doesn’t reply verbally anymore. He presses a soft kiss against your clit before starting to do what you asked from him. Slowly he licks around your pussy. He makes sure to lick every tiny part of it, before coming back to your clit. He presses another kiss against it, before using soft licks onto it. He makes sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants you to enjoy this as much as he’s enjoying it right now. He increases his pace a bit after hearing you letting out multiple moans. 
In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings it to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows it’s teasing and maybe even a bit mean, but he needs to hear you beg even more for him right now. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you used earlier with him. He wants to know that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him to come. 
You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint. You want his finger inside of you. Maybe even more then one now that you think of it. Lando doesn’t response to your movement. You open your eyes to look at him. To your surprise he’s already looking back at you. Before speaking up, you admire the way he looks between your legs. 
He’s still making short licks onto your clitoris. Sometimes he switches and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, are the things that feel the best. Although, you can use a bit more.
“More,” you softly say. 
“More?” Lando asks you. You let out a soft whimper when he removes his mouth from your pussy. He looks at you. His finger replaces the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as before.
“Please,” you beg Lando. 
“Tell me what you want baby,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are falling out your mouth like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it to see all the small details, again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before. He needs release as well. 
“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips.
“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess. 
“Ask me,” Lando tells you sternly. He can’t help himself. He has fallen in love with your pleads.
“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks, before Lando can say anything you add another word. “Please Lan?”
His boner almost explodes when hearing the soft please Lan coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore, he’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hears moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s getting addicted to that sound? He realizes that he wants to hear you like this forever. No one else should ever hear you like this he even thinks. 
Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside of you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and out of your pussy. It doesn’t take him long before using another finger. He starts to finger fuck you with two of his fingers. In the mean time he focusses on eating you out. He softly sucks onto you clit. It makes you almost scream. 
“Lan,” you loudly moan when he sucks a bit harder onto your clit.
He doesn’t response verbally, he just keeps increasing his pace. Waiting for you to come. Your walls are starting to clench even more around his fingers. Lando feels how your clit is starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself. 
“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking harder on your clit. He moves his fingers faster inside of you. He notices a soft spongy spot inside of you and gives it all his attention from now on. You let out a hard moan. 
“Can I come?” You suddenly ask Lando.
He’s overwhelmed by your question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. In the mean time you have more trouble with holding back your orgasm. You feel waves of pleasure hitting over you. 
“Lan?” You quickly ask. 
Lando removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. No longer then necessary. “Of course babygirl,” he tells you before sucking harshly onto your clit again. He repeats his movements from earlier, but his eyes are focused on your face. He looks at the way you close your eyes when the first waves of your orgasm are washing over you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple of soft moans. When you press your legs closer together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future. 
Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your slit of his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly lay down against him. 
“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”
“Glad that you liked it,” Lando replies with a small grin. His cock is still throbbing inside of his racesuit. “You tasted better then that champagne,” Lando tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he is quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint taste of yourself on his tongue. 
“Do you want me to do something for you as well?” You ask Lando softly.
“I wished,” Lando grunts, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”
“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest.
“I like the way you’re thinking babygirl,” Lando replies to you. 
“I just want to feel your lips on my clit again,” you confess laughingly. 
“Next time I won’t stop after your orgasm.”
“You think I can come more then once?” You ask surprised.
“You can add a lesson about overstimulation to the teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend a whole evening between your legs and pull everything orgasm out of you that you have.
part six
this is my favorite part so far :)) hope everyone liked it!
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the-upside-down-umbrella · 8 months ago
Text
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
Part 3
Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader
(Booth Five)
Summary: After finding out about the seven years Lila and Five spent together, reader walks in to a diner in between all time and space and finds exactly what she didn’t know she was looking for
Warnings: Some cursing, angst
A/N: They’re may be some major grammar errors because I’ve had a massive migraine for several days now but I wanted to get it out as soon as possible ❀ I hope it’s up to expectations. I had so much fun writing it. This is the last part and then there will be a short epilogue!
Also, Five is still very much alive and dealing with the consequences of his choices. Everything else is left up to interpretation
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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————
“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet,” Y/N said, holding her hand out for Five to take, “Blink us to the subway.”
“Y/N, what are you-“
“My God, Five, for once in your life would you just do as your told,” she snapped, frustration bleeding from every word, “Blink us to the subway!”
He looked taken aback for a moment before he finally relented, taking her hand and blinking them to the terminal.
She immediately started in the direction she knew the Deli would be in. Five followed her, more than a little confused by her behavior.
He trailed behind her down the stairs but stepped back in surprise when the marquis lights of the deli came in to view.
His steps faltered and he knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, “Max?”
“Max,” she confirmed, “You are, in fact, seeing your name. Come on.”
He followed behind her cautiously but she did not hesitate to open the door of the deli, stepping in like she was a frequent patron of this place in the middle of all of time.
Five instinctively put a hand on the small of her back, ready to protect her if necessary but she inched away from him. She acted like his touch was the equivalent to a white-hot, iron poker. She was also incredibly too comfortable in this new environment.
And he realized why as soon as he was over the threshold. It was like looking in to a shattered mirror. He saw himself all around the room, in various positions as both patron and employees of Max’s deli.
A Five in the middle of the room stood up as soon as he noticed them, a look of sheer surprise on his face. Y/N strolled forward without hesitation and met him half-way. This Five, this him, held out his arms towards her and she fell in to them, welcoming his embrace. All the while his eyes glared over her head, straight in to Five’s skull. If looks could kill, Five would have been dead on the spot.
“What are you doing here?”
“We need your help.” She explained, “Things are going south topside and I figured when it comes to apocalypses, the more Fives, the merrier.”
“I’m sorry, does someone want to explain to me what the actual fuck is going on?” Five interrupted them.
Booth Five bared his teeth, “What’s going on, asshole, is that you left her down here on her own after you fucked-.”
“Hey, no!” Y/N put a hand on his chest to urge him to stop talking, “Come sit down, Five, and we’ll explain.”
She gestured to Booth’s usual table.
“You’re giving him far too much Grace, darling,” Booth growled in her ear as she slid in to the seat beside him, completely ignoring her Five’s pleading eyes as he realized that she was not going to take the place next to him.
Y/N placed a gentle hand on Booth’s thigh under the table, giving it a soft squeeze in attempt to keep him calm. She didn’t need them going after each other before she even got the first word out.
Booth took that as his cue to move closer to her, closing the small space between them, purposely brushing his thigh against hers. She ignored him, but couldn’t help the goose-bumps that erupted across her skin at his close proximity. It was crazy what reactions he could bring out of her, even with her timeline’s version of him sitting across from them.
Five eyed them, his mouth set in to a hard line like he was trying, with great difficulty, not to say something.
“Explain,” he demanded, “What is going on, Y/N?”
“It’s a waypoint,” she told him, “they’re all you from different timelines.”
Five looked around the deli, taking in all of the different versions of himself. Most of them were lounging, enjoying lunch or a newspaper, while others seemed fresh out of whatever hell their timeline had to offer. A version of him was obviously very drunk, attempting to drown his sorrows in a bottle of something hard.
“How did you even know about this place?”
“I found it when you brought me down here after
everything.” She recalled, “Or more like it found me.”
Waiter Five stopped at the table, sitting two black coffees, two pastrami sandwiches and a cup of tea in front of them.
She smiled up at him, “Could you please tell the kitchen that they’re going to burn the brisket this afternoon and that they should be extra vigilant about it.”
Waiter Five seemed unperturbed by her prophecy, as if he had witnessed them a thousand times. Which she realized, he probably had. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Thanks for the heads up.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You’re not going to like that,” Booth said as Five reached for his cup, pulling a pastrami sandwich towards himself simultaneously.
“Can we stay on track, boys?” Y/N chastised, “We have a lot to figure out.”
Booth launched in to his explanation about how there was never supposed to be multiple timelines. And how their existence was the very problem they’d been trying to solve this entire time.
“When you look ahead, what do you see, Y/N?” Five questioned her.
She closed her eyes, trying to block out the various clattering and background noises of the deli, but try as she might she was met with nothing but a solid, unyielding, darkness. She expected it to feel cold or maybe lonely, but it didn’t feel like anything at all. There was nothing there.
“I don’t feel anything,” she concluded, opening her eyes to find two identical, worried faces watching her closely. “I can’t see anything. Usually I can at least gather little glimpses of things I can piece together but it’s dark.”
“If that’s what you’re seeing, then that means my plan will work.”
————
Five bolted out of the deli so swiftly, she didn’t have time for a proper goodbye with Booth.
She was thinking about going back when Five grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks, “What the hell was all of that back there? Is there something going on between you and
me? Him?”
She pulled herself out of his grip, “And why would you care if there was, Five?”
“Because I love you,” his voice cracked, “You know I love you.”
“You didn’t love me enough to not fuck Lila,” her voice wobbled, but she wouldn’t cry. Not over this. Not anymore. “You didn’t love me enough to not fall in love with her too.”
“It was seven years, Y/N. We
we didn’t think we were going to find a way home. We were alone. We were tired. You have to understand that.”
“No, I really don’t,” the anger in her chest flared up once again, red hot and burning, “You spent forty years alone, looking for a way back to your family, and you did everything you could to do so. But you’re telling me that this time you gave up after just seven? I know you, Five, and I know that deep down you always knew that you’d find a way. But you got comfortable with her and you just stopped trying.”
“What’s worse is that I could understand if it were just the three of us mixed up in this mess, but it’s not! Lila is MARRIED! Lila is a MOTHER! Lila is married to your brother and the mother to your nieces and nephew. You drove their marriage apart. You hurt Diego. You knew you would be breaking up a family and that still didn’t stop you. You weren’t alone anymore, Five. I was there. I’ve been there. I’ve always been there when you needed me and that still wasn’t enough. You aren’t this sad little boy lost alone in the apocalypse anymore. You’re a full-grown, adult man and it’s time that you own up to your mistakes. And this is a big one.”
“So what you’re saying is that I’ll never be able to fix this?” He asked, “You’re never going to forgive me? You won’t even try?”
“How could I, Five?” She took a deep breath, steadying herself, “How could I when all I can see when I think about you, is her? You kissing her. You fucking her. You loving her. And that’ll always be there. It might dull over time but it will always be there playing in the back of my mind. So, no, we can’t fix this and I don’t want to. I won’t put myself through it just to come out the other side burned again. I respect myself too much.”
“And him?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“He’s literally me. It’s very much my business.” Five was trying to sound casual, but she could tell that her words were eating at him. That it stung more than he would ever let on.
“But he’s not you, not really,” she said pointedly, “And he loves me, Five. In a way I’m not sure you ever did. Why else would we spend all of these years together and never actually move forward with our relationship? But none of that matters anyways. If we do this correctly, we’ll be gone and so will every other timeline. We’ll all cease to exist. And maybe that’s for the best.”
They stared at each other for a moment, a silent standoff.
“I do love you, you know,” Five’s voice was barely above a whisper, but his tone shattered her heart all over again, “But I never felt like I deserved you and I’m so sorry that it took me this long to realize that you’re the best thing that could have ever happened to me.”
“I’m sorry that it took you that long, too,” she said, “And I’m sorry that things have to end this way, but they are ending. In more ways than one. And we have to face it whether we’re ready for it or not.”
————
They did it. Not only had they restored things the way they should be, but they had managed to save themselves in the process.
They had lost their powers again, for good this time, but she didn’t care. If she was being truly honest with herself, she never wanted them back anyways. It was nice to look forward to the future without tiny glimpses of what was to come. Glimpses that usually set her on edge and kept her from truly living in the present.
She and Five had gone their separate ways. It was better that way. They both moved out of their shared apartment and she moved in with Allison, Claire and Klaus for a while until she found her footing again. Eventually that footing came in the form of a steady job downtown and a small studio apartment she could call her own.
As for Lila and Diego, they were continuing to try to make things work for their family. Lila had personally come to her and apologized once the dust settled. She told her that she and Diego were now attending couples counseling and were trying to move past things.
As much as she should hate Lila, she couldn’t. They would get along for Diego’s sake. Things were never going to be the way they were before, but they didn’t need to be.
Despite her newfound contentment, she thought about Booth Five often. It saddened her to know that it was likely that he no longer even existed somewhere out there.
She thought about how every Five in that deli had fought so hard to make things right but none of them had even come close to an iota, a fraction, of the happiness that they deserved.
———
It was a rainy Sunday morning and she was spending it curled up on her couch with trashy, mindless TV and a cup of tea.
She was just contemplating the idea of a nap when a soft, hesitant knock sounded at her door.
“Hold on!” She called, pausing the tv and wrapping the blanket around herself to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra and her pajamas had seen much better days. She hadn’t been expecting company.
She looked through the peep hole, her heart dropping a bit at who she found on the other side.
Five stood there, his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, as he waited for her to open the door. She hadn’t seen him since an impromptu family brunch over a month ago. He typically made himself scarce when she was around. Not that she blamed him.
She did a small round of the breathing exercises her therapist taught her before undoing the chain and padlock.
She had barely cracked the door open when she realized that something was just slightly off about her visitor. His eyes found hers and her breath caught in her chest. Those green eyes, as familiar to her as her own, did not belong to the Five she had expected to see.
“Booth?” She gasped, her head spinning.
He looked utterly perplexed by her nickname for him, but a grin spread across his face anyways, “You call me Booth?”
“How?” She squeaked, throwing the door open, “It is you, right?”
“It’s me,” he confirmed, “God, I’ve missed you.”
She threw herself at him, blanket forgotten, and he caught her with a surprised grunt, steadying her on her feet as she peppered his face with kisses. Wherever she could reach, she planted her lips there.
“How?” She breathlessly questioned him between kisses, “How are you here?”
“It’s a long story,” he told her, unwilling to let her go now that he finally had her in his arms, “One I promise I’ll tell you later, but right now, please don’t stop kissing me.”
She complied, stepping back just long enough to yank him in to her apartment by his collar, slamming the door behind them.
As soon as he heard the latch click, his hands were on her, starving for affection. Y/N returned those affections tenfold, scaling him without reservation.
Caution be damned.
“You’re here,” she repeated over and over, still unable to wrap her mind around it.
“I’m here,” he reassured her, running his fingertips along her spine, taking in the feel of her, “And I’m not going anywhere, if you’ll have me.”
She pressed her lips to his in answer, her fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer.
“As if I would let you get away again.”
He chuckled against her lips before deepening the kiss, moving his hands to her waist. He dug his fingertips in there, oh so deliciously, and she melted against him. Everything with him had always felt so right, natural, from the moment he first held her in the deli.
Fated. Meant to be. Call it what you will, but she knew that being with him was worth all of the inherent risks that came with it.
They were lying in her bed, wrapped up in each other, as Booth drew lazy circles up and down her arm.
“You don’t mind me calling you Booth, do you? It was just easier to differentiate between the two of you in my head that way.”
He laughed, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, “Sweetheart, you can call me whatever you want as long as you call me yours.”
Her cheeks warmed and she buried her face in his neck, taking in the scent that was uniquely him. Uniquely Booth.
“I love you,” she hummed.
“I love you too,” he tilted her chin up so that they were nose to nose, “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
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