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#since i sent this to people who have not finished reading
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Unnatural Love
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Part 6 Synopsis : Name has being transmigrated into the world of I'm Not That Kind Of Talent without ever reading the novel. She's not being reincarnated as a human but as a devil as well. Hi There! I want to let you know that this fanfiction story isn't solely my creation. I borrowed the concept from @quqiwo2. I haven't actually read the novel either, just some spoiler to the end.
I hope you'll excuse my spelling and grammar mistake, because English not my first language.
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Finally after we were anxious to think about our future relationship. We also decided to keep our dating relationship as a secret from the Demon King .
But that's not the most important thing I want to say...
Because…
Finally, Deon himself revealed his secret. To ME!!!
He said that because for him we were already together, that's why he would also tell his secret life story.
I've actually wanted to know about him since a long time ago but wasn't sure how he would respond if I asked. So I'm afraid that if I want to ask directly,
The past is a taboo topic for soldiers. Because they have to sacrifice their humanity to fight. It would be unethical to ask casually. It’s also will drop the mood and interrupted that person.
He was the one who told me that his name was not Demon Arut, but Deon Hardt. And he also asked to just call him Deon when we were alone, I agreed with him.
He said that his original name, Deon, changed to Demon because he was being misunderstood by the devil's advertisements and was constantly being misunderstood his whole life.
And finally, Deon also told me about his life story, starting from when he was born albino, had a weak body since birth, was forced to fight in the war between kingdom, survived through struggle and luck and too often lost his memory.
When I heard everything Deon told me. I honestly feel very sad and sympathetic to him. But also wondering...
Is it accurate to say that his family is so unkind as to send him to war despite his physical condition being unsuitable?? Is there really having no misunderstanding at all?
Why am I asking the reality of the Deon’s story?
Because it’s really contradictive for me…
If his family really intended to kill Deon, why didn't they try to escape knowing that Deon could return home after 8 years of war? It is difficult to believe that Deon will not harbor any resentment towards those who sent him to war and they should be the one who know that.
Life is the second most valuable thing for nobles, after money of course. If they don't live, how will they enjoy their money? It’s logical to think that they would try to save their lavish life.
Just imagine, okay?
We become war soldiers for 8 years, and 8 years can survive in a war that can make people's minds go crazy. The psychological burden of a murderer must be enormous-- the possibility of the person becoming crazy and psychopathic is also possible occurrence.
Of course, the normal people would usually try to avoid Deon, who miraculously survived.
But his family, who tried to kill him, didn't run away and instead welcomed Deon home. As if they weren't aware of Deon's grudge for not being willing to become a soldier?
It's either that Deon's parents are stupid, greedy, trash, or a misunderstanding.
That's the biggest possibility of Deon's story which has a definite plot twist. Because Deon's story from start to finish is truly spectacular, suitable as a fantasy novel full of drama and tragedy. As an expert on fantasy novels, I am sure that there is a misunderstanding that has occurred.
Besides, his older brother, Cruel Hardt, also has oddities, Deon said that his brother hate and want to kill him, he also becomes a hero following his younger brother. Why did his brother never try to kill Deon who killed his parents with his own hands. Why?
Revenge is most delicious and satisfying when it is done with one's own hands. People who want revenge will never allow their targets to be killed by others. Because that is the revenge system that can satisfy a heart full of revenge.
So it is clear that there must be a big problem hidden without Deon's knowledge.
I believe this aligns with the perspective of seasoned readers. Those who enjoy cliché fantasy novels frequently trust their gut feelings. I can feel that in the future there will be will be a sacrifice that will occur if this situation continues and it will affect Deon too.
I actually don't know about psychological problems. But Deon's character is very unsuitable for someone who has becoming the hero of the war.
I'm not mocking him, but the trauma he has should be there for someone who didn’t want to do a war. He even told the story as if he didn't have any trauma at all. He talked about his 8 year war so casually, didn’t took any life at all but he took the lives of his family, and then he was sent to be one of the hero's journey companions and his hero died, but he became the Commander of the demon king's zero army now, but he said he was weak?
There's no way that could happen, war is never a joke. Only the strong can survive. It’s the same principle in this devil’s world
Even if he was lucky, Luck didn't work like that. That's why I say Deon's story is very suitable because it is a tragic fantasy. Especially the plot hole that occurs due to memory loss. I'm sure it must be because of his psychological problems, Deon's psychology seems so unstable that he can be like that.
I've only heard of it but is it possible that he has a split personality. According to an article I once read, people who have multiple personalities will not remember what the other personality did, As a mechanism to take care of itself. This symptom is match with his condition.
So I can't tell Deon all these facts I just thought about.
If all my hypotheses are really true, then tragedy will come to Deon. Because it's impossible to have a happy ending after all of Deon's stories have happened. Then what about me?
“Adele, Adele!”
Surprised, I turned to Deon. He looked at me with a worried look. "Adele, was my story that surprising to you?"
It seemed like he was worried about my situation. Maybe he thought I was in shock after my fragility earlier, even though I was just thinking about the possibility that Deon's story was a fantasy story from earth or not?
I exhaled tiredly. Of course, my thoughts above are just a hypothesis. It seems that I really have talent as a novel writer if my imagination continues like this.
"Even if your story is so surprising to me, this is your story. Of course, the one who feels the saddest is Deon, right?" I tried to empathize with him, even if I've never experienced the same thing as Deon.
Deon just looked down and made a shadow with his hair. This makes him feel very far from me. I, who couldn't stand seeing that, slowly touched his hand first before finally holding it.
Only then did he look back at me. I smiled sadly.
"I'm sorry I made you remember your past. But I'm glad you were honest with me about your past. Would you like me to hug you in return?" I opened my arms, inviting him to hug. At first she was hesitant, but then she came into my arms.
When he hugged me, suddenly a panel screen appeared in front of me.
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The screen shocked me and shocked Deon too until his body turned stiff. I immediately stroked Deon's back. Trying to calm myself and Deon too.
"Sorry, Deon, I thought there was an insect passing by."
"Bugs won't come in here!"
"That's why I said I saw wrong."
After that, Deon was silent and I continued to stare at the damn screen that suddenly appeared in front of me.
Is this a clue to the reason why I am in this world.
Does that mean I came to this world without notice and had to suffer in this world because of Deon?
To change Deon's tragic fate from beginning to end…
.
.
.
Do I have any other choice but to accept it?
I had come into this world without warning, suffered, met Deon, interacted with him without thinking of him as a tragic character and we dated too now.
Maybe this screen is waiting for the right moment so that I can't resist it. Honestly, if I got this quest before. Maybe I will reject it outright.
But because I already know Deon, know him, like him, he finally was honest with me about himself. Do I have the heart to let Deon meet his tragic end? My conscience really couldn't bear to refuse this quest.
With a heavy heart but also with an anxious heart, I pressed the yes button.
And I can see a list of skills that I can get if I do the quest. This is like farming games where I have to deposit items first before I can get the prize.
Wait a minute, Why do I have to do Quests all full of romantic scenes. 
Teasing Deon, holding hands, hugs, cheek kisses, and so on until there is something most erotic that makes you
My face heated up instantly.
But in the most erotic part, namely doing it with Deon, the prize was clearly visible.
‘Clear the karma of Deon hart’
My eyes and mouth opened wide. I reflexively tightened my hug which made Deon squirm. I realized that I immediately let go of our hug.
"What's wrong with you all this time, it's like you've been seeing a ghost?" Deon's face became dirty. Maybe he's sulking because I keep bothering him.
I can only smile nervously. Technically, it is true that the screen that appears suddenly is like the jump scare.
"N- it's nothing! This is just because I'm hugging you for the first time. So I'm nervous." I avoided Deon's gaze. I don't even know if Deon can accept this reason.
Of course I'm not a fool who would say screen to Deon. He must not know that he had a tragic ending and only I can change his life.
If he found out, he would most likely kill all the demons and himself right now.
Of course that's something that can't happen now.
“Me too, this is my first time in a long time. "
“Then shall we hug again, I promise this time I will be quiet. “
Well, we hugged again, and in the end we both fell asleep.
To Be Continued
How is my innovations? Are you like it?
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knightthyme · 8 months
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sorry i havent posted in forever i am tired all the time and cannot draw and also have been playing too much bg3. but since people have been doing this lately: how i draw yoohankim!!!
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reidmania · 2 months
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inbetween | spencer reid
good riddance x spencer reid one shot series master list
summary ; after months over talking over email, you and spencer finally meet in person.
warnings ; reader & spencer fall in love over emails, meeting in person, insecure reader, insecure spencer, worries about not being enough, pretty much just pure fluff tbh.
an ; in between yall. this song. this is the first oneshot in the good riddance x spencer reid one shot series!! while i waiting for the poll to finish!!
part one, part two, part three
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‘I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring. For more than a couple seconds, oh, I think maybe two. two hearts just fallin' in and out of love for somethin' new. ‘i wish that you could see 'em, their faces lighten up their past is cold and empty, they know it's been enough of waitin' on somebody, someone who doesn't care but he knows her name, she knows he'll always be there’
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The email rang up at exactly 5:30, exactly when you expected it to. You were sitting at your desk at work, knees pulled to ur chest as you spun on the desk chair. Your coworkers paid no mind to your antics, after working in the safe office for years, with each other. They were used to it by now.
You chewed at your lip as you refreshed your email when the clock changed to exactly 5:30, a wide smile dawned your face when you read the email, you heart ached with longing as your eyes traced over the words on the screen, your stomach tightening and your heart clenching.
Sent from [email protected] at 5:30pm
Hi.
I don’t know when this will send because I’m writing it while on the jet, probably as we get lower and more towards landing, I’ll spare you the scientific details. We only got back from a case this morning, early. Which is why it has taken me so long to reply. Im sorry.
We got a case in Maryland, which I remember you telling me, is where you live. I know I should probably just ask for your phone number but I kind of enjoy the emailing thing. It’s a lot less nerve racking because I can try to pass it off as professional, even though a lot of the time our conversations aren’t.
I actually don’t think we have ever had a professional conversation. Which is a good thing. I really enjoy our conversations no matter what we are talking about. I really enjoy talking to you.
I hope this isn’t too forward but I wanted to know if theres any chance I could see you while I’m in Maryland for this case. I don’t know when it would be or how long I’d be able to see you for, but I do really want to see you. If thats okay with you.
I guess I should give you my number, so you know I’m not some creepy old man. That would be ironic since I work at the FBI and my job is to stop people like that… I don’t know.
Heres my number, 023387677
Love, Spencer.
Your stomach tightened at the idea of seeing him in person. You never admitted it, but you knew he wasn’t an old man, you knew exactly who he was. You made the decision to google his name 6 months ago, when the two of you first started emailing back and forth after he accidentally sent a work email to the wrong person and you replied. It started as just telling him he had sent it to the wrong person, then he thanked you and apologised and made a joke and then the conversation just flowed.
You had been having conversations with Spencer Reid for six months and you felt like you knew more about him than you did yourself. He told you about his day, and about things he had been through, He opened up to you about his addiction and his mom and you opened up to him about your own trauma and issues.
Spencer Reid was your best friend and you had never met him. You had never even heard his voice. You only had seen his face on google when you searched up ‘Spencer reid FBI’ and a photo came up, he looked younger than you assumed in it, seeing the photo was from a few years ago. You felt slightly bad since you knew he could google you and probably come up empty handed — you had the upper hand.
You look at the clock as it inches closer to six o-clock when you finish work. A boring office job, you often complained to Spencer about. It was ironic since his job literally traumatised him, and yet you complained about the boring desk job, although he never ever compared, he would listen and comfort you after a bad day no matter what, just like you did for him.
You don’t reply to the email he sent as you typed the number he sent into your phone, saving the contact under ‘spence’ The nickname that had developed only weeks into the two of you talking. You send him a text, letting him know it was you, saying hi.
“Phone.” You hear your boss, warning you about using your phone at work, you lift your head an apologetic smile on your face as you close your phone, placing it face down on your desk as you close your email and return to your work after muttering out a sheepish, ‘Sorry!’
Spencer is sitting in a conference room of the police station in Maryland. He didn’t know it but he was only two blocks away from the office you worked. He never usually cared to check his phone while working — nothing could be as important as the case.
Until you, until now.
He found himself hanging out to feel the buzz in his pocket, he found himself checking his phone just in case maybe he missed the message. Just in case you did message.
He also checked his email a lot.
“Whats up with boy wonder?” Derek asked as he spun a chair to sit on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he looked around at the other team members. Spencer focus on anything other than the case.
“He gave mystery girl his number” Emily said, patting Spencers shoulder softly to get his attention as she walked past him, placing a coffee down in front of him. Spencer noticed how it was his normal order — despite the fact lately he had been getting your order, after he found out what it was. It made him feel a little bit closer to you.
“Oo, Okay lover boy.” Derek hummed approvingly, raising his eyebrow slightly as he looked down at the boy. Spencer sighed as he let back in his chair, tossing his phone on the table as he checked to get no message. “Nothing yet?” Emily asked, knowing Spencer had been stressing since he sent the email on the jet, nearly two hours ago.
He didn’t know it hadn’t even delivered until a few minutes ago.
“Shes probably just busy” Spencer muttered as he checked his watch for the time. 5:33pm, you’d be at work.
Derek shared a look with Emily, both with teasing smiles on their faces. They had watched Spencer obsess over the girl for the past 6 months, even after he tried to hide it for the first few. He did a horrid job, they all noticed him smiling at his computer and typing away more often than ever, they noticed his focus slight adverted. It took a bit but they eventually got it out of him when you didn’t email him back for a week and he was going insane with worry that maybe you were ghosting him, or that you were hurt.
He confided in his team, you emailed him a few days later saying your wifi went down and none of your emails were going through. He was instantly relieved.
His phone buzzed on the table, 5:35pm. His hand instantly reached out for his phone. His eyes widened and his lip twitched upwards as he read the message that lit his screen.
“And lover boy is in” Derek whispered to Emily, loud enough that Spencer could hear that only ended up in Spencer sending him a glare, before typing out a reply and sending it, asking to call you tonight when he got finished.
“Alright, We got a lead” Hotch said entering the room.
You leant against the back of your head board, your hair wet and dripping down the back of your neck as you waited nervously for call to ring through your phone. You were almost terrified of what the conversation might hold. You were glad you were calling before you agreed or disagreed to meeting him, you could feel out whether or not it might be awkward or not.
You almost jumped out of your skin as your phone started ringing, anxiety pooled in your stomach as your skin flushed hot, causing the drops of water on the back of your neck feel as if it was burning the skin. You reached out for your phone that rested on your bed side table, answering the call.
“Hi.” You muttered out a breath of air. You couldn’t even help but smile as the realisation dawned on you. You were talking to Spencer. Finally, actually talking to him.
You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone before some shuffling. “Hold on” He mumbled out, you stomach fluttered at his voice as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you bit back a smile.
“Okay.” You said, you heard some more shuffling before the sound of a door closing, then a creek. And then a breath.
“Hi” He settled on, you sat up a bit, crossing your legs as his word came out almost breathy and nervous. It made your chest thump against your ribcage so much it ached. “Sorry— I should’ve waited till I was in my hotel room to call, I was excited— Sorry” He said.
You could hear the nerves in his voice and all it did was make your cheeks beat a rosy hue. “It’s okay. I was nervous” You admit softly, you try to hide the slight embarrassment in your voice but it fails you as your words come out small.
You hear him chuckle. You think the sound genuinely makes your mind fall empty of any coherent thoughts. “You don’t have to be nervous” He spoke so softly as if his words were an exhale he had been holding in.
“But I am” You muttered.
“Me too.” He said honestly. You found comfort in the fact he cared enough about this interaction to be nervous about it. You went to run your hand through your hair but paused with you felt the coldness — it was still very wet from your shower.
“Good” You sighed out, voice almost a whisper. You didn’t know why you were speaking so quietly, there was no one else in your house. There was no reason to be as quiet as you were.
“Is good that I’m nervous?” Spencer asked, you could hear the teasing in his voice. It made your head spin and the words get caught as you shook your head, before remembering he couldn’t see you.
“Yes- No- no. No.” You muttered out, “Its uh- Its not good that your nervous— I- Its just good that you care” You scrambled out, stuttering over your words as you grew flustered. It made you want to turn into your pillow and scream.
You heard him laugh, making your face screw up. “Shut up.” You muttered out as it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was laughing at you scrambling over your words, your free hand came up to cover your face as your cheeks felt on fire.
“No- Im sorry. Im sorry. Of course I care, you know I care” He said softly as he collected his laughter, his voice dripping honesty for a moment as he spoke genuinely in a way that made your knees feel weak — Thank god you weren’t standing. You were silent for a moment as a smile dawned on your face.
“Tell me about your day.” He requested gently. You heard some more shuffling you could only assume he was getting comfortable in bed. You pictured it and it made your stomach burn with longing. Wishing it wasn’t just an image in your head.
And you did, you told him about your day and he told you about yours; the conversation flowed simply and sweetly from then on. He teased you whenever you stuttered over your words, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.
You and him spoke until your voice was quiet and drowsy with sleep, until your eyes were fluttering shut and you went unresponsive for a moment before he asked if you were asleep and you would wake up to the sound of his voice, muttering out a no, to which he would chuckle, and tell you to go to sleep.
When you fell asleep, he waited ten minutes to make sure you were really asleep before hanging up. His heart full as he fell asleep smiling.
Sorry I fell asleep. If i didn’t throw you off completely and you still want to see me, im free any day after 6, when i finish work.
Spencer smiled at the message. The acceptance. You were accepting meeting him, seeing him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of anything you doing ever throwing him off. You had wiggled your way into his chest months ago, and you stayed consuming every part of him everyday since. He didn’t see that changing any day soon, or ever.
He sent you an address to a bar Derek suggested the team going to after work. He didn’t know if maybe it was too forward, or might be awkward with his team there, but at least if it didn’t go well there was people around.
He closed his phone as he waited for your reply, his mind replaying the conversation he had with you last night, how sweet you sounded, how your laugh made his heart clench, how whenever you said his name or spoke a little louder he felt light headed, unable to focus on anything but you.
There was anxiety in his stomach when he realised the two of you never quite talked about what it all meant. What the months of conversation back and forth was. He realised he didn’t know what you wanted. What you expected.
Maybe you just saw him as a friend, maybe to you the conversation is nothing more than friendly. Honestly, if that was the case Spencer didn’t think he would be able to deny you of that. He would do anything to keep you in his life, even if it caused a slight ache in his chest. He had told you things he couldn’t imagine telling anyone else, he trusted you in a way he didn’t know possible, and it may be stupid, maybe naive, but Spencer didn’t care.
The way he felt for you took over any ounce of doubt in his mind, it overtook the insecurity welling in his mind, that maybe you wouldn’t like him, not the way he liked you.
He had never felt so much for a person. He had never felt so much point blank. He could hardly fathom you feeling for him near the amount he felt for you.
Your hands traveled over your jeans softly as your palms grew sweaty as you stepped inside the bar. Thanking the guy you held it open for you as he walked out. You were instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people, the music playing and the people chatting. You probably should have gotten changed first instead of coming straight after work but you were too nervous and didn’t want to give yourself time to dwindle in your insecurities then chicken out.
You manoeuvred your way through the people, quiet apologies leaving your lips as you looked around for Spencer, or anyone who looks like they might be an FBI agent.
What does an FBI agent look like? you thought, as you let out a sigh, finally getting out of the crowd of people as you got to the back of the bar, a lot more free of space. A few people around, standing at tables. You skimmed over for a moment as you tried to catch any glimpse of the boy that you could.
You heard your name, making you spin on your heels. You saw a dark haired girl smiling at you. Well that isn’t spencer.
“Yes?” You said, smiling at her as you tried to hide the anxiety building in your veins. Your hand coming to push hair off your face softly as you try to focus on the girl in front of you. She grins widely, “Spencer is over there, you looked like you were looking for someone…” She said, my smile instantly widened as you looked over to where she nudged her head.
your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes settled on him, the photo didn’t do him justice in any way. His hair was messy and slightly grown out, he was engrossed in a conversation with who you could only assume was Derek Morgan, who Spencer had told you about. His tie was crooked in his suit as he lifted his arm to sip the drink in his hand.
you tear my eyes away as you look at the lady who is smiling at you. “Happy with that?” She asks. It takes you a moment to recognise her as Emily, whom Spencer had also told you about. You can hardly put it into words how your chest feels like its gonna explode as your heart thumps.
“He is gorgeous.” You breathe out, shaking your head as words fail you, your eyes trail back to him for a moment to see him laughing, you see his head turn towards the door, as if he is waiting for you to walk through them.
Emily smiles, patting your shoulder softly, “Cmon Mystery girl” She said, you pay little attention to the nickname as she encourages you to walk towards the table with her. Your legs feel like Jelly with every step that you take, your stomach twisting in the familiar feeling of anxiety.
When she pauses at the table your breath hitches. “Oi Reid” She mutters, both he and Derek turns their head towards her, “Look who I found” She says softly, hand brushing over your shoulder.
Spencers eyes skip over to yours and you watch an emotion pull his features. An emotion you can’t quite place and it makes your stomach ache at the uncertainty, insecurity creeping up the back of your neck.
“Hi” You breathe out as you look at him. Theres a moment of silence before he is pushing away from the table and walking around to you. His arms around you the moment you are in reach and it makes your muscles tense slightly before relaxing completely in his hold as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back.
Emily and Derek watch in amusement for a moment, smiling when they see the look on Spencer’s face. The one you couldn’t place the one they knew all too well.
He was in love.
He was in love before seeing you, he knew that but watching you stand there grinning at him made him all the more sure about it. His hand rested on your waist as he pulled back from the hug to look at your face.
“Hi” He whispered back.
You chewed at your lip at you bit back the wide smile that tried to force its way into your features. His hand traveled up to your face before he could stop it hand cupping your face gently.
You eased, leaning into his touch the warmth of his hand feeling gentle against the soft skin of your cheek. “Y-You- I- Hi.” He stuttered this time.
You grinned, “Cat got your tongue?” You ask, teasing him like he would every-time you stuttered over the phone. He just grins in response.
“No. You’re beautiful” He said, eyes dancing over your face, he looked at you like he was trying to memories every little detail. Your stomach tightens and your knees felt weak as the compliment left his mouth. You had been told that before, but it felt different coming from him. He said it with honesty and sincerity.
“So are you” You said back before hugging him tightly again. He didn’t complain at all, instead his arms fell tightly around your waist as he held you against him, as if he was scared that if he let go you would disappear.
The night went on, you stayed by spencer’s side, his hand on yours or around your shoulder gently as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you being next to him. You never complained — you took it all as a compliment and leant into his touch.
“Are you cold?” Spencer asked as you and him walked outside of the bar, hand in hand. he noticed the way you shivered as the cold hair hit the skin of your bare arms. You turn your head to look up at him, the look in his eye enough to make your chest clench around the fat of your heart.
“A little” You admit. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, but spencer was instantly pulling off his suit jacket for you, slugging it gently over your shoulders as the two of you walked down the street. You paused in your steps as you looked up at him.
“Thank you.” You say.
“Its okay- I don’t want you to be cold” He said softly. You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness, but you shook your head. “For that too— But I meant, for asking to see me. Thank you for thinking of me when you heard about where the case was — for talking to me everyday. Thank you for being my best friend Spence” You said softly as you lean against your car as you and him stop in front of it.
His lip twitches upwards into a smile as his hand drops yours instead resting softly on your lips. “I always think of you.” He admits, eyes on yours.
Your breath gets caught in the back of your throat. “Spencer.” You say softly.
He looks at you, really looks at you. He is seeing you. He is seeing every little thing you have told him over the last six months, every little detail about you there was to know, and all he could think about was he wanted more, he wanted to know you more.
“Yeah?” He says, his voice a whisper.
You feel anxiety pool in your stomach as the question lingers on the tip of your tongue. There was a pull towards him you couldn’t ignore, the same pull you felt when you received his email, six months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago. You’d count the hours but you figured that was more his style.
“You can say no, I want you to know that” You said, you wanted to make it perfectly clear that his response to this was completely up to him and you didn’t want to feel pressured. “Can I kiss you?” You ask.
His lips are on yours before you can even finish the question. One hand of his travelling to the small of your back to bring you in closer while the other tangles in your hair, cradling the back of your neck. Your hands instantly cup his face as you press your lips against him. Your lips together saying more than words ever could.
This, right here, him, right now.
It was everything and more.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years
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Hiiii, I loveeeee ur work ❤️
I was thinking about a head cannon of how some of the mw2 characters (ghost, soap, König, etc) would react to their partner sending them a nude photo?👀👀👀
Sorry if you did this already but I’m pretty sure you haven’t tho cuz I definitely would have read it already 😭
MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Special™ Photo from Their S/O
Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Non-Specific/Explicit Implications of Smut, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You', Singular Mention of Graves Throwing Himself off a Cliff, Dominant! MW2, Submissive! MW2, Dominant! Reader, Submissive! Reader, Profanity, etc.
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Ghost
He will literally stare bug-eyed at the picture you’ve sent him like 👁️O👁️
Since it’s a physical photograph, he keeps it on him like a chapstick, which is to say all the time.
He isn’t risking ANYONE besides himself seeing it.
And when he’s about to embark on a mission, he keeps it tucked into his vest right where his heart is so that it’s practically part of him.
He likes to think that, somehow, you can hear – feel – his heart beating, know that he’s still alive and fighting so that he can come home and see you.
And when he returns from a mission and goes to his quarters, he has some…alone time.
You know, to really study the picture.
Not that he doesn’t know every curve and edge of your body already.
But that doesn't stop him growling your name into the pillow as he rocks against it, a hole cut into the bottom of it – a poor imitation of you.
A makeshift lover.
If anyone ends up seeing that picture – if they stole it from him, if by some act of God (because that’s what it’ll take) it slipped out of his vest or pocket – they are in for a World of Pain™.
There won’t be a time they won’t flinch upon hearing Ghost’s name, or when they see his shadow like an omen on the wall as he commandeers the halls. Prowling.
He’d feel pretty guilty about someone else seeing you how he does, even if it was only for a fraction of a second.
So he’s definitely going to make it up to you when he gets back <3
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König
His heart can’t take this kind of torment.
He’ll be looking down at his phone, the image of you burning into his skin like a holy artefact.
He definitely gets more jumpy around people when he has his phone on him.
Will literally clam up and shove it into the deepest recesses of his pocket if someone comes too close.
Even when your picture is safely stored behind a password-protected photo album.
He has to excuse himself from training or other commitments whenever his mind wanders back to you, and subsequently that image (which is basically all the time).
Sometimes he calls you while he’s sorting himself out.
He just needs to hear your voice – to feel closer to you.
It’s the only way he can finish.
“Engel,” he rasps, his breath stuttering, “I need you,”
And everyone just looks at him like he’s grown a third eye when he returns because, unbeknownst to him, König can’t keep quiet, and everyone who has never heard even a peep from him is suddenly aware of the carnality that lies beneath his skin, wired into his soul.
And at the centre is his love for you, boundless and overflowing so that the rest of his teammates know it, too.
Not that they mind all too much.
They all sit and think that you must be one beautiful person to evoke such a response from König.
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Soap
Will tease you back.
Sends a mirror pic of him in a tight black shirt, saying something like ‘You’ll see the rest when I get home.’
Is absolutely ravenous when it comes to you.
No cap, goes absolutely ham in the shower when the image of you in nothing flashes in his mind.
His low moans are enough of a warning for the rest of the 141 to stay away for the next half an hour or so.
Aside from that, he’ll just look at the picture because he finds you beautiful.
Stares at it while he’s in bed. Laments on how much he misses you ☹️.
He’s counting down the days until he can see you again, and with each that passes, he can feel your silhouette becoming tangible in his hands, as if you were stepping out of the photo.
Sometimes, he dreams that you’re there with him, nestled between his arms.
Other times the dreams are a little more…graphic.
But Johnny can’t help it.
He just can’t contain himself when it comes to you.
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Valeria
If you thought her violent tendencies could never extend to you, prepare to be amazed.
The second this woman sees what you’re trying to do – or, rather, what she thinks you’re trying to do – she is not happy.
You could have sent that image with the purest (within reason) of intentions; just letting Valeria know that you miss her, wishing her a good day – whatever.
What she sees is you trying to manipulate her by using your body as an instrument of destruction.
Dramatic, yes. But Valeria has never been one to take chances.
She’ll be deceptively calm over text: ‘Don’t tease me, Darling. You know what happens when you do.’
All day, all she can see is that image.
Whenever she turns a corner, you’re there; whenever she’s talking to someone, you’re peering at her over their shoulder; when she’s alone, you’re sat with her – on her – trying to take her attention away from her paperwork.
Redemption is a baseless concept when Valeria returns home that evening.
You will not know rest until she’s done with you.
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Price
“Fuckin’ Hell, Love,” he’ll say, the darkness hanging on his voice tangible even through the voice note.
“What’ve you been up to while I’ve been away, hmm ?”
Will not rest until he knows he’s got you hot and bothered.
This entails him sending increasingly risqué images of himself; first, just one of him flexing, his arms thick and crawling with veins.
The next is of his shirt raised just below his chest, the dim light of the room keeping enough of him shrouded that his identity is unknown to all but you, his wide silhouette taking up most of the picture.
And, if you decide to be resilient against his attempts to make you feel as you have him, you’ll receive a series of menacing messages.
‘Don’t get too comfortable, Angel’, he’ll say.
‘You never know when I’ll come through that door–’
He grins as he sees you’ve read his message, hanging on his every word.
‘And ravage you.’
And you know he means it, too.
Meanwhile, he’s multitasking; keeping a clear, professional head and giving orders while resisting the primal urge to drop everything and find you.
And no amount of pleading or tears will spare you from his wrath when he returns.
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Horangi
Regardless of how well the military life trained his self-discipline, nothing can dampen the sheer need Horangi feels whenever he receives a special picture from you.
I’m talking: he will literally sit in silence for ten minutes because he’s got a raging issue he needs to take care of but can’t risk anyone else seeing it.
Will thunder down the hall to the nearest bathroom when the meeting’s over and take out his frustrations there.
When he calls, you’d better pick up the first time.
If you don’t, you’ll have Hell to pay when gets home.
“Baby,” he breathes down the phone, the fog already making his mind frost over, his body burning up.
“What have you done to me–”
These brief encounters are the only thing keeping him sane while he’s away; they make him feel closer to you.
And, repaying you in kind, he returns one night, in the silence of the moon hours.
He finds you, pulls you to him, clutching on tight as you begin to wake.
And, between delirium and consciousness, his voice is all you can hear.
“Shouldn’t have tested me, Sweetheart,” he says, whispering as though partaking in a secret.
“Now I’m going to have to challenge you.” His arms are snakes as they constrict you.
“Fall asleep before I’m done with you, and I promise there will be no end to your suffering.”
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Alejandro
Teasing a man as passionate as Alejandro is not going to end well for everyone involved.
Expect to receive a barrage of very choice texts back.
‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me’, he’ll say, followed by a photo of the tent in his trousers.
And a sinister: ‘But you will’.
If he’s away on business for even just a few days, he’ll go practically feral whenever he sees that picture of you.
To everyone else, he’ll be the leader Alejandro Vargas they all know him as – ruthless and righteous.
Yet, there’s something different in the way he walks as he excuses himself from the table, his destination unknown.
His gaze is narrowed and his teeth are grinding, rabid in disposition.
And when he gets home, no matter how long of a day it’s been, you’re in for a very long night.
He’ll appear behind you, a spectre, clamping a hand down on your shoulder.
“You shouldn’t test a soldier, Love,” he says, his grip tightening.
You don't turn around, an exhilarating fear keeping you frozen.
He leans down, his mouth just at your ear, his breath hot.
“Because you never know when he’ll snap.”
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Rodolfo
This man is usually rather quiet and submissive when it comes to the more personal aspects of your life together.
But when you send him a picture that makes him question how long he can keep his composure for, you’re in trouble.
You’ll be receiving a phone call from a very exasperated Rodolfo, who, despite his best efforts, has succumbed to your charm.
Definitely a growler when he’s in a dominant mood.
More of a whimperer when he’s not.
At times like these, you get both.
“Darling,” he breathes, the back of his head pressed against the cold cubicle wall. “Look what you’ve done to me…”
His whining is more than enough to let you know the effect you’ve had on him.
And it’s what he says next that makes your blood run cold.
“I won’t let you get away with this.”
The husking baritone in his voice tells you he’s being truthful.
And if you try to clap back with something witty, or even an apology, Rodolfo just laughs.
“The time for mercy is long past, mi Amor,” he tells you.
“All you can do now is prepare for the Reckoning.”
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Graves
This smug idiot.
Definitely smirks to himself when he gets that picture.
Has to resist the urge to show it off to everyone in the boardroom because he’s just that proud to have you as his partner.
Yes, he is hard. Yes, he’s still going to give this presentation in front of all the major shareholders.
Why ?
Because he’s Graves. Also, because he knows he has more money than everyone else in that room, and, consequently, more power.
Will shoot you back a text like: ‘Mighty fine work, Babydoll’, followed by, ‘You’re getting a promotion when I get home.’
Yes, he uses corporate jargon when discussing intimate matters.
He’s a businessman at heart, he can’t help it.
Definitely more playful than most of the others on this list.
The type to take his time with you and make you laugh while he does so.
But when he wants to be rough (and when you want him to be), he can be.
And he gets mean when he’s like that.
I’m talking hair-pulling, name-calling – basically just bullying you, but consensually.
Does his best to take care of you, though.
If he found out that he’d actually upset you, he’d literally jump off a cliff – he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.
Expect many lavish gifts if this happens, though.
But don’t tell him that I told you that 👀.
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Gaz
Will nearly drop his phone – it turns to butter in his hands.
He looks over his shoulder at least fifty times before he’ll allow himself to look at the photo again.
Poor boy’s face is turning red, his palms are sweating, he can’t think straight.
Paranoid 24/7 that everyone knows he has that picture of you.
But it doesn’t intimidate him enough for him to even try to keep quiet in the barracks when he has some alone time.
Similar situation to Soap; everyone knows to steer clear of whichever room Gaz was last spotted walking into for a while.
It would take him a few days for him to send a picture back.
More than likely, it’ll be of him in a scarcely lit bathroom in nothing but his boxers with a very prominent outline in them.
Followed by a text with something to the effect of: ‘Been thinking about you all night, Sweets’
And God forbid you send him another image of yourself. And definitely do not send a message saying ‘Aww, has my good boy been behaving himself ?’
Will literally send him over the edge.
The rest of the 141 can’t commandeer the bathroom for the rest of the day after that.
And when Gaz gets home, just know that your phone screen can’t protect you anymore.
Not when you have a man made of pure intellect and solid mass running full-force at you with all the pent-up energy seen only in a nuclear reactor.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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writersdrug · 3 days
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I need, need need neeeeed to know who you would picture bar owner price with 😩 picturing bar owner price has me week in the knees. I need more, how would he be around the bar when he was there? Supporting, bossy,silly? The possibilities are endless. 🥰
I'm loving how people are requesting things for the rest of the 141!!
Bar Owner!Price isn't there every day, and most often not during the actual shift. He's there some mornings, already at his desk on the floor above the pub, setting up the next inventory order and dealing out everyone's tips before Simon climbs down from his flat on the third floor. They both grunt at each other, tired and in need of a hot breakfast and some tea.
He helps set up for the shift - he likes being in the kitchen with Soap. He feels bad the man is back there all by himself, even though he says he doesn't mind it. "I get to cuss 'n bitch all I want back 'ere, sir." Still, Price spends a majority of his time back there with him, prepping burger patties and making sure everything is stocked and ready. Gets on his case about updating the menu, but Soap insists the customers like it the way it is.
Price makes an appearance on the floor every now and then, opting to help run food or bartend on the busier nights. He checks in with the regulars, leaning his forearms on the bar with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, laughing and chatting with them and occasionally offering to refill their drinks. Simon grumbles quietly about him being in the way, but Price doesn't take it to heart.
He doesn't stay late. John isn't that old, but he likes to be back at home by a decent hour. One ruined sleep schedule and he's a shot for the rest of the week. He likes to get back to his flat, make himself a sandwich and pour himself some whiskey, and be on on his sofa and reading his book no later than ten in the evening. Routines have always been a part of his military career, and what can he say? Old habits really fo die hard.
Then you came along.
You didn't just rock Simon's world - you'd gotten Price, too. Though introductions could have been smoother (you nearly beat him with a keg when he came in through the back door and scared you), he's grown fond of you. First, as a hard worker and go-getter; then, as a pretty little waitress with a dazzling smile that likes to keep him on his toes. You love poking fun at him, calling him "bossman" or "barmaster" (doesn't make sense to him, since he's hardly behind the bar - but he finds it cute). You tease him for the way he runs your food, then gets stuck at the table for five minutes just chatting up the customers. You ask him things like, "Who do you prefer, Cardi B or Nicki Minaj?" And laugh when he just stares at you with a furrowed brow. He'll happily let you tease him for being an "old" man just to hear your laughter.
Then Simon sent that photo in the group chat, and Price felt something stir in his chest: looking at you, posing all prettily for your picture, working to push your little idea out there and bring in a crowd. He's impressed, but he's also intrigued. He's got his sights on you, and he's dying to figure out more about his waitress.
"'S the post making any headway?" He asks one night, leaning on the bar next to where you sit. Your tips are finished, money waded into the pocket of your apron as you scroll on your phone, sipping on a screwdriver.
"Kinda..." You mumble, a pout on your face, creasing the skin between your eyebrows. "People are seeing it, and there are a few likes, but no one's really engaging. Not sure if this will do well."
Price hums thoughtfully, looking at your lips while you stare at your screen. He's holding back the urge to lean in and take a whiff of your perfume, afraid it might seem just a bit too strange. "Have you tried promoting it?"
You look at him, laying your phone on the bar top. "Well... I could, but..." You wanted to finish with 'it would cost money'. But then, you'd be insinuating that you expected him to pay you. You could boost the post yourself, but you'd rather not spend money on something that might flop.
"'S there a problem?" Price asked, leaning in closer to you.
"I mean... promoting a post costs some money. Like, for it to be advertised to five hundred people, you'd pay around one fifty. And I think, depending on how far you wanted the post to reach - like, literally, how big of a geographic area - that would cost even more."
Price chuckles. "You do realize how much business you've brought in since you've joined the team, hmm?"
That makes your cheeks warm, pressing your lips into a line to avoid grinning like an idiot at the compliment. "I mean... sure..."
"Go upstairs to the office and get my wallet." he says, standing up from his seat at the bar.
You watch with a stupefied expression as he walks to the POS and prints some blank receipt paper. "You- you mean it? Are you sure?"
He sits on a barstool near the kitchen door. "Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Hurry up- before I change my mind."
You don't need to be told twice. You drop your phone onto the bar and bolt towards the stairs - you stop yourself, running back to where Price sits and hugging him from behind. He lets out a surprise grunt as you do your best to smother him.
"You're the best boss ever!" you squeal. Then, just like that - you're off to the office upstairs. He preens over the compliment as he hears you leaping two steps at a time.
"Be careful." he calls over his shoulder. He sits there a moment, staring at the paper in front of him. He's surprised he hadn't accidentally thrown you off of him purely out of instinct, but he can't say he isn't absolutely delighted by the hug. It lingers in his mind, his chest still remembering your arms around him. He shakes his head, reaching forward to grab a pen from behind the bar.
His eyes meet Simon's - the man is glaring daggers, his head framed by the window in the kitchen door, mask hanging from his ear. His lips are pulled down into quite possibly the angriest frown Price has ever seen. His nostrils flare as he exhales - Price wonders what sort of insults are flying through the bartender's head right now.
He glares right back. If Simon wants something, he'll give it to him. But he'll make him ask for it, like any normal human being. John isn't going to surrender just because Ghost is huffing and puffing, expecting his boss to back away from you just because he's stomping his foot and looking menacing. But how can he be sure that Simon really wants you, more than he thinks Price deserves you, if the lad won't say anything? It's only reasonable, right?
"If you want something, Simon, say something." Price calls out, never backing down from Simon's jealous gaze.
He huffs again and disappears from the kitchen window. Price can hear shuffling and banging, followed by Soap's irritated voice: "Oi, I got it! Get yourself outta my kitchen n' go your own shite, 'fore you break my stuff."
Price sighs, scribbling down some numbers on the paper in front of him. He'll cave, eventually.
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harzilla · 21 days
Text
ohh. Brain rot time.
Long lost sibling AU. Except Yuu is the lost sibling of one of our dear Twst boys. Like through magically shenanigans Yuu is pulled from the twst verse as an infant or toddler(or in Malleus' case an egg) and ends up in a magicless world. The world has no magic so they're forced to fit whatever the constraints of that universe are. So if for example, they were Riddle's sibling. They simply lack magic. But if they were a mer, beastman, or fae, then they not only lack magic but they were forced to become human. Yuu has no memories of twisted wonderland, no memories of their previous life. They only know the life they've lived with their adoptive family. Things like fairies, mermaids, and magic are nothing but fairy tales.
Until the day they woke up in the coffin at NRC. Okay, so turns out magic is actually real! Hey, Yuu's actually handling it okay(I swear game Yuu is extremely mentally stable if they're handling all the shit so well). The mirror, for whatever reason can't accurately read their soul. So they still think they don't have magic and want to go home to their magicless world.
Even if Yuu looks strikingly similar to their sibling, maybe nobody makes the connection because, duh, Yuu is from another world. Like even if Yuu looks like Leona or Azul for example, it must be a coincidence because duh, Yuu is human not a beastman or a mer. Nobody actually figures out Yuu is actually from the twst universe until whatever magic that caused them to be sent to another world as an infant and stripped them of their original identity finally wears off.
Like maybe something triggers it. Maybe fighting their sibling's overblot and saving their life(since an overblot can kill the mage it's attached to) is what triggers the magic to break.
Book two, after Yuu is knocked out by the spell driver disk and wakes up in the infirmary. Everybody is so focused on Leona that they don't notice that Yuu has sprouted a pair of lion ears on their head. Yuu doesn't even notice until they realize that everything is so much LOUDER and why does the room stink of medication so much?
Imagine book 3 and Azul's overblot has been defeated. Everybody's beat up and then Yuu suddenly collapse and they're having trouble breathing. People are panicking and then somebody notices that their skin is starting to change to grey and black and that the seams of their pants are starting to tear because SOMETHING is moving inside Yuu's pants. Maybe it's one of the twins who figures it out and yanks up Yuu's shirt and sees that they're sprouting GILLS on their torso. Poor Yuu is picked up and tossed into one of Octavinelle's tank where they finish transforming and surprise. Yuu almost looks like a carbon copy of Azul in that form. Even their hair changed color to the same shade as his in this form. Like maybe Azul and Yuu were the only two survivors of their clutch, but Yuu was lost or stolen and the lost of one of the only two children they have left was what finally triggered their parent's divorce.
Oh oh. Like imagine with Malleus. Insert shenanigans where Yuu ends up in their world much more down the line so they age at the rate of a human instead of a fae(or maybe they age like a fae but still look like a human so their family thinks they have some kind of medical condition that makes them age slowly, poor Yuu is the big family secret until they're old enough to be on their own). Let's say there's some shenanigans and Yuu and Malleus were twin eggs. The two of them when the eggs are close together they can communicate with each other(maybe if you listened closely you could hear the faint cooing or squeaks of the baby dragons in their eggs as they talk to each other). Yuu's egg is stolen and has just disappeared. Poor Malleus spends so long calling out to his other half, he's just a tiny baby in his egg and he doesn't understand why his sibling won't answer him anymore. Maybe as he grew he always knew something was missing. Even if he wasn't told about his sibling. He just KNOWS somebody should be there. Maybe that's why Yuu in that universe doesn't fear him. Because the both are naturally drawn to each other as their other half. Perhaps Yuu ends up waking up one day with their head hurting because somehow they're sprouting horns and their skin peeling because surprise! They've got scales starting to sprout all over their body.
Maybe book 6 Poor Yuu's hair just suddenly burst into flame when facing Idia's overblot because they're in S.T.Y.X. and there's so many phantoms and so much blot around that it finally overloads their system and triggers the curse to finally manifest in them. Poor Yuu went from a normal haircut to a ball of blue fire for hair.
Imagine going from being an only child or having maybe one other sibling to finding out you're actually Kalim's sibling and oh yeah, You actually have 30 other siblings. Kalim's taking it great and can't wait to introduce Yuu to their long lost family but it might take them a bit longer to process.
Being Riddle's sibling, Yuu might actually feel grateful they ended up in another world if they have decent parents because they're not sure they're ready to face Mrs. Rosehearts when they find out she's their bio mother.
Can y'all see my vision here? So much angst potential but so much comedy potential as well.
The shenanigans from the more emotionally constipated cast trying to navigate this new found relationship. Or trying to figure out how they're going to introduce Yuu to their family.
Then you got ones like Rook. Poor Yuu, hope they're good at learning French.
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Edit: I've expanded on the idea more here https://www.tumblr.com/harzilla/761475981811777536/original-post-found-here?source=share
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loveyouprongs · 8 months
Text
are you awake?
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prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader
upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words
authors note: despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!
masterlist
you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.
"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.
you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.
“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”
he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.
“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.
“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.
you looked beautiful, he thought.
“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.
“did i say that out loud?”
“you did.”
“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.
“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.
“what happened this time?”
“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”
you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-
“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”
“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”
“you’re making me be real?”
“oh, nevermind.”
had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.
“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”
“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”
a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.
“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”
“of course”
“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.
“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”
“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.
“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.
“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.
hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.
it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.
“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.
“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.
“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”
he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.
“but don’t you like being held?”
“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”
“there’s no sense to cuddling!”
“there’s sense to everything!”
“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.
you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.
“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”
he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”
“i love you too, now get some sleep.”
the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.
it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.
remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.
“are you awake yet.”
“no.”
“oh, okay, sorry.”
“mmm.”
two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”
“are my eyes open?”
“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”
“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.
“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.
“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.
“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”
he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.
“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”
you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.
“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”
remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.
“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.
i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.
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authorhjk1 · 1 month
Text
SNSD Village
Season 1 Episode 1 :
Pilot
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(Tiffany Hwang X Male Reader)
You drop your bag in the green chair, before sitting down on the white couch.
“Sorry I’m late, Jisoo. Ms. Park wouldn’t let us go.”
Jisoo looks up from her laptop.
“Hey, I’m just glad you’re helping me out.”
She gives you a thankful smile.
“Don’t mention it. How much have you written so far?”
You slowly settle in as you take your keys out of the back pocket of your jeans and place them on the table.
Your phone joins them. It’s a hot summer day and the screen has some of your sweat on it. But the cool air of the small cafe turns the outside heat into a distant memory.
“Not very far, to be honest.”
Jisoo sighs, before sliding the laptop over the wooden surface.
“Since they're looking for someone who has experience in their field, I mentioned that I’m currently working here.”
You nod your head in agreement as you start reading her job application.
“You could also mention you’re looking after my little sister.”
As you start writing, Jisoo interrupts.
“But that doesn’t have much to do with this receptionist job.”
You look to your left.
“Why not? It’s a way of saying, you can handle difficult people.”
“Oh, please.”
She playfully hits your shoulder.
“Seri isn’t difficult.”
“Oh, trust me. She is.”
“She is four. Plus, Mrs. Seo would kill us both, if she heard how I let you speak about her daughter.”
“You’re right. Mom would kill us.”
You both share a laugh in agreement.
At that moment, your phone lights up. You check who texted you before the screen turns dark again. Your friend, Seogun. Something about a video.
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
You put your phone back into your pocket.
“Let’s finish this first.”
Jisoo smiles at you as she pulls the laptop back in front of herself.
“I really appreciate this.”
Just as you are about to touch up Jisoo’s resume, you hear a familiar voice.
“Hi there, young man. How was school today?”
“Hello, Mrs. Kwon:”
Your lips return the genuine smile the owner of the cafe shoots your way.
“It was alright. Ms. Park’s class sucked. As always. Especially when she found out that a lot of people didn’t do their homework. Eunha should start writing stuff down. She always forgets we have homework.”
“Oh, yes. Ms. Park was never my daughter’s favorite teacher either. Poor Eunha though. Her mother is always putting so much pressure on her. But she will grow up eventually.” 
Mrs. Kwon is right. Your classmate Eunha is a good student. It’s just that she is also quite clumsy and forgetful.
She sends another smile your way. Only now do you notice that she is holding two bowls of ice cream.
“Enjoy yourselves. It’s on the house.”
She places them in front of the two of you.
“Thank you, Mrs. Kwon.”
You and Jisoo say in union, which makes the older woman’s smile grow bigger.
“I’m sad to see you leave, Jisoo. I really enjoyed having you here.”
"I liked working here a lot.”
“You know, Eunbi is currently doing her gap year. Maybe she can help you find something new?”
“I appreciate your help, Mrs. Kwon. It means a lot to me.”
The older woman waves it off.
“Don’t mention it.”
You see someone at the table outside raising her arm, signaling her that she is ready to order.
“Eat up.”
Ms. Kwon motions towards the sundaes, before walking outside. Jisoo is eating hers as you feel the vibration of your phone inside your pocket. Now you do check what Seogun sent you. You quickly put the phone back into your pocket.
“I-I’m gonna be back in a minute.”
“Sure.”
The message fills you with excitement. You knew it. You knew she had one.
You lock the door behind you, after entering the small restroom. You sit down on the lid of the closed toilet. The turquoise fabric of the cushion on the lid matches the interior of the cafe. Pulling out your phone, you quickly open your chat with Seogun again.
Dude I found her!!!
Check this out
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she is so fucking hot, cant belive it
her links
onlyfans.com/tiffany
insta: your_tiffany
After making sure the volume of your phone is on the lowest setting, you press play on the video he sent you. As the buffering cycle appears, you check out the title. “Trying out my new toy. Enjoy!”
When the video starts playing, you can’t believe your eyes. It’s actually Ms. Hwang. You recognize her surroundings instantly. The beach. That spot is barely five minutes away from the cafe. 
“Hi there, cutie.”
You focus on Ms. Hwang, who is kneeling on a large blanket. Her short pants and her top look so sexy on her. You saw her wear this outfit once or twice before. Just looking at her like this makes you unbutton your jeans. As Ms Hwang waves into the camera, your pants are already sliding down your legs.
“This is a thank you to the person who sent me this.”
You watch her reach behind herself. Her hand reappears, holding a big dildo. You can’t tell how long it is exactly. The bottom is flat, so your classmate’s mother is able to place it on the towel.
“Let’s see what this bad boy does to me.”
With a flirtatious smile, she starts to strip. Your eyes are glued to your screen as Ms. Hwang's top lands on the towel. She was wearing nothing underneath. You can’t believe you’re seeing Yeji’s mother topless; she would die of embarrassment if she knew.
You start to rub your cock over your boxers as you watch her playing with her breasts. They are slightly smaller than you thought they would be. Trying to take in every detail, you watch how one of her hands slowly glides over her tummy. You start to take your boxers off as Ms.Hwang rubs herself over her shorts. The erotic hum she produces gives you goosebumps. You’ve watched porn before. You even had a girlfriend. But this is different. She is someone you know. You even saw her yesterday. You said hello. And there she is. On her knees. Slowly taking off her denim shorts.
By now, your boxers have joined your jeans around ýour ankles. You slowly stroke yourself to your classmate’s mother stripping. You’ve fantasized about her more than just once. It happened more frequently, after you picked up a small part of Ms. Im’s conversation with her. It made you and your friend look for exactly this.
Once Ms. Hwang's Shorts are off, your eyes wander up her full thighs. Her smooth skin almost seems to glow in the light of the rising sun. Your eyes finally reach her core. You take in her beautiful pussy, which is slightly glistening with arousal. You remember how your ex girlfriend looked when she was naked. This is something different. Ms. Hwang looks sexier, more mature.
“I’m so wet already.”
She gives the camera a mischievous smile as she lets her fingers run along her folds. Your classmate’s mother reaches for the plastic dildo next to her.
“Thank you so much for this.”
She gives you a wink. You watch how two of her fingers, which were running along her folds, are now slipping inside of her. Ms. Hwang closes her eyes. As she slowly fingers herself, she starts to stroke the dildo. Unconsciously you match her pace and rhythm. It almost seems like she is actually working your cock. It feels better than usual. More real. 
When Yeji’s mother lifts the dildo off the towel, you can only stare. Her lips close around the pink tip. You stroke yourself faster as her cheeks hollow. Ms. Hwang starts to actually suck the pink dildo, which barely fits into her mouth. She keeps fingering herself at the same time, her hips slightly bucking towards her hand. 
“I’ve been so horny since I got this.”
She just pulled the plastic out of her mouth. A smile on her face.
“You guys know how much I like a nice cock.”
Ms. Hwang places the dildo right in front of herself, her fingers slipping out of her pussy. You see them glistening with her juices.
You watch her raise her hips as she sends another seductive look in the direction of the camera. The tip of the dildo parts her pussy lips as she moves forward a little. Yeji’s mother bites her lip. You feel a familiar feeling rising in your stomach. You imagine that you are there on the beach. With Ms. Hwang. You stroke yourself faster, envisioning that you’re lying underneath her. That it’s your tip that penetrates her pussy. That it’s your cock she slowly impales herself on.
Your breathing becomes faster as you’re just about to climax. You watch Ms.Hwang slowly moving up and down. Her pussy lips glide along the shaft. Her moans make you groan. Your toes curl. Another moan from her. Another groan from you. 
“When are you gonna be back?”
You ask, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
“I don’t know. An hour?"
 “Alright. Drive safe.”
Jisoo smiles back at you, before getting into her car. Well, not her car. More like your mother’s company’s car. If Jisoo had enough money to buy herself a car, she wouldn’t need to take care of your sister.
You watch her drive off. As soon as she is out of sight, you start running. 60 minutes. That should be more than enough. An evil smile appears on your face as you jump over the small white fence of your mother’s garden. It barely reaches your knee. You are going to make Yeji pay. The two of you have been at each other's throats since you both can remember. But today, you will finally come out on top.
You quickly unlock the terrace door. Run through the big living room. Speed up the stairs. Barge into your room. Let your bag fall on the ground next to the door and quickly sit down on your chair.
You open your phone again. You open your and Seogun’s chat. After a glance at the thumbnail of the video you watched earlier, you click on the first link. Ms.Hwang’s Onlyfans page appears. You quickly scroll through her profile.
Hi, sweetie! Subscribe now and get 10% off! I will send you a sexy welcome pic!
That video alone would make you win your fight over Yeji. And with that promised picture, Yeji would probably never dare to speak up against you ever again. Your thumb hovers over the blue subscribe button. Just when you’re about to hit it, you remember that your mom sometimes checks your bank account. She caught you buying alcohol before, despite not being 21 yet. She almost killed you. If she finds out you are paying someone for porn… Especially someone you and her both personally know…A shiver runs down your spine. No. You can’t risk it. This isn’t worth it. Your mother can be scary as hell.
You get off Ms. Hwang's Onlyfans page and click on her Instagram link. Her Instagram Bio is the same as the one on her Onlyfans. You quickly skim through her reels and select a random one. It starts with Ms. Hwang gasping, her mouth wide open as she pretends to look down.
“Oh my gosh! You're huge!”
You start rubbing your cock through your jeans. You can’t help it. Yeji’s mom is just so fucking hot.
“You didn’t tell me you are this big.”
Ms. Hwang bites her lip, while smiling into the camera.
“I’m not sure it’s gonna fit.”
“Fuck it.”
You curse, stripping yourself off your pants and underwear. As you keep scrolling through all her recent reels, you stroke your cock. Every reel makes Ms. Hwang look like a slut. In one, she pretends to pick something up while bending over. You can clearly see under her skirt. In another one, she has tight yoga pants on. You don’t even pay attention to what she is saying, your eyes are glued to her cameltoe.
A couple of minutes later, you are fully dressed again. You can’t believe you just came twice within two hours to videos of Yeji’s mother. Having just watched most of her recent reels, you now check out some of her pictures. You do recognize some of those outfits, but others are new to you.
Scrolling back to the top of her page, your eyes get caught up on one of her most recent pics. Ms. Hwang is kneeling on the floor, only wearing a set of blue lingerie. Your heart beats faster when you read the caption.
Looking for someone near my place to shoot some content with. Send me a DM if you’re down for some fun.
You hesitate after reading it a couple of times. It sounds too good to be true. It could very well be a scam, so she can tempt more people to subscribe to her Onlyfans. Would it be worth a shot? Why not? You don’t have anything to lose. You click on the message button. What to write her though? You can’t tell her it’s you. She would probably say no immediately. That thought makes you realize that you’re using your personal account.
You quickly make a new one and search for Ms. Hwang again. Now that you’re all set, the opener continues to be a major problem. You can’t just say hi, can you? You have to be smart about this. Do you want to be funny? Do you just text her that you saw her invite to shoot some content? What do you call her even? 
After a couple of minutes, you finally decide on a simple text.
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You stare at the screen for a while. You are nervous. Excited. But when Ms. Hwang doesn’t text back immediately, you lean back in your chair. What did you expect? The chance of her actually responding is very slim. She wouldn’t text you back within a couple of minutes.
You dry yourself off with a towel. It’s 11 pm now. Throughout the entirety of your workout, you kept thinking about Ms. Hwang. The chance to actually sleep with her. To record it. Show it to Yeji. It was wishful thinking, but still...
Taking your gym bag out of your locker, you start to get dressed. You usually jog home from the gym, since it only takes thirty minutes and it’s a great way to build up your stamina. But it’s already late and your mom offered to pick you up on her way home. She seems to always be at the company, since your dad died. Is it just because of the huge amount of work, or is it her way to cope with the loss of your father?
After stepping out of the gym, you lean against the outer wall, waiting for her to arrive. You haven’t been working out for a long time yet. You always liked gym class, but you never bothered with actually trying to improve your physique. But you haven’t gotten over your ex-girlfriend yet. As much as you hate to admit it, she might have been the one. Trying to get your mind off her, you started working out about three weeks ago.
After taking your phone out of your black sweatpants, you see a message from your mother.
Grabbed something to eat for the two of us. I will be there in 10.
You quickly skim through your class’s Discord. Someone mentioned something about a party this weekend. As you scroll through the messages, you see that it’s Eunha, who invited everyone. Seems like her mom is out of town over the weekend. As you take your earbuds out of your pocket, your phone vibrates.
You almost let it fall. She actually replied! With shaky fingers, you quickly open Instagram and there your messages.
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“Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Your shout bounces off the wall of the gym you were leaning on.
This is unbelievable. It’s your chance. Your chance to-
You pause, already halfway done with your response. No. You can’t message her back immediately. Maybe wait a couple of minutes. But then, your eyes catch the green circle next to her profile. Fuck. She knows you’re online too. Now you have to respond. Something cool. As if you weren’t waiting for her reply for hours.
Seems to be your lucky day. I live close by.
You read it a couple of times, before sending it. You know it sounds a little overconfident, but maybe it works. Ms. Hwang probably got hundreds of messages, so why not try and leave an impression?
Fantastic
Two questions
Are you fine with your body being filmed?
How big are you? You know what I mean
The wink emoji at the end makes a shiver run down your spine. You’re almost there. So close to finally having sex with a woman, who has been your “inspiration” more often than you can count.
I’m cool with that
Why don’t we make that a surprise?
You take a deep breath before you send it. She might take it the wrong way. But hopefully, this gets you through the door.
I do like surprises…
But I do need to know a general direction
Send a pic?
You rub your teeth over your lower lip as you think. You’ve never taken a picture like this one before. Because no one ever asked you to send you one. But Ms. Hwang just did! You’re just about to go back inside, when you see a pair of lights illuminate the parking lot. Your mom is here.
I’m in public right now
I’ll get you one once I’m home
I might need some inspiration to show you what I’ve got
Your wink emoji makes you shake your head. For someone else, this conversation might look borderline weird. But the tingle inside your stomach doesn’t subside, even when your mom’s car stops right in front of you.
“Hi, sweetie.”
"Hey, mom.”
You smile at her, before getting inside and fastening your seatbelt. 
“How was your day?”
“Oh, you know. A lot of work, as always. How was school?”
“School is school.”
Your reply makes her chuckle as she gets back on the road.
“Did Ms. Park torture your class again?”
“You know how she is, mom.”
You sigh, getting comfortable in the warm car. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. But you’re too scared to check. What if Ms. Hwang actually sent you something?
“What did you get by the way?”
“Chicken.”
She points behind herself, eyes still focused on the dark road ahead. You look at the backseat behind her, a grin on your face.
“You're great, mom.”
You take two stairs at once, after you enter the house.
“Be quick, I’m hungry.”
“Just five minutes!”
You close your door.
Your gym bag joins your bag for school on the ground. Opening your phone, you immediately see that Ms. Hwang sent you a picture.
“This actually worked?”
You sit down in your chair again as you open your chat with her.
“Oh fuck.”
You can’t hide your pleasant surprise. 
Ms. Hwang, sent you a hot selfie. Her white top is bunched up above her breasts, no bra in sight. She smiles at the camera, at you, as she winks.
You might not even need five minutes. Your sweatpants and boxers are gone within seconds. As you start to stroke yourself, you take in Ms. Hwang’s surroundings. You recognize her open kitchen in the background. You’ve been to her house before, together with one of your closer friends. Your eyes narrow as you spot someone standing in the kitchen. Her face is turned away from the camera, but you recognize her immediately. You see her in class everyday.
The thought of Ms. Hwang sending you a selfie of herself almost half naked, really makes you hard. You are so focused on her tits, you almost forget why she sent you the picture in the first place. 
You have to force yourself to stop. Getting off the chair, you sit down on the edge of your bed, facing the mirror. You take a couple of pictures of yourself, while making sure your head isn’t in the frame.
After taking a sip of your cold water, you glance at the TV. You’re sitting on a barstool at the kitchen counter, while your mom is watching a drama. Her long elegant dress got replaced by a pair of shorts and a white tank top, while you were busy upstairs. 
“You don’t want to watch this with me?”
“No thanks, mom. Not into romance stuff.”
You take a bite of your chicken, while you hear her laugh.
“Trust me. One day you’ll like it. You’re not old enough to appreciate this yet.”
“Sure mom.”
Your phone vibrates again. You were afraid that the picture was bad. Or worse, that Ms. Hwang didn’t like what she saw. You quickly check what she sent you.
Look how wet you made me
The picture she sent along with the text almost makes you drop your phone. It's a close up shot of her pussy. Two of her fingers spread her lips apart, revealing the lower part of her clit, while showing off how wet she is. Her glistening folds instantly make you hard. You can see the inner part of her walls. The pink flesh drenched in her arousal.
What are you supposed to say now? You can’t just ask, when she wants you to come over. You need to keep this conversation going. Maybe you haven’t convinced her fully yet.
You chug down the rest of your water, before focusing on what to text her next. 
You’re dripping Tiffany
I want to know what you taste like
It feels unfamiliar to you to address her with her first name. You always call her Ms. Hwang. But it’d be weird to call her that now.
And I can’t wait to feel your tongue
I need you to eat my pussy so bad right now
“What are you up to, oppa?”
“Nothing important.”
You quickly turn off your phone, before you look up.
One of your classmates is looking down on you, while you sit in your seat.
“Did you catch what Ms. Kim just gave us for homework?”
“Eunha…”
You sigh, still very aware that she almost caught you. You’ve been texting with Ms. Hwang - sorry, Tiffany - for two days now. Eunha just interrupted you, while you were about to reply to one of her messages.
“Oh, please. I didn’t pay attention.”
“That’s not news to me.”
Before you can react, Eunha has already straddled your lap.
“What-?”
You instinctively take a hold of her thighs. You feel how full and smooth they are. And you realize your fingers are partially underneath her skirt.
"Please? I’m begging you.”
Eunha does her best to look cute. She always does. That’s her charm. And that’s also why she gets away with pretty much everything.
You hesitate for a moment. Eunha needs to learn it the hard way at some point. But you can’t resist her either. Those cute cheeks, her lips which are pouting at you, her dark eyes pleading you to tell her.
“We’re supposed to write a two page essay about the Roman gods.”
Ms. Kim is your history teacher. And currently she is focusing on ancient societies to show the evolution of human society and democracy.
“Is there any way…?”
“No, Eunha. I’m not gonna write it for you.”
“That’s not what I was gonna ask.”
She pouts at you again. You’re still very aware that she is sitting in your lap. And that you’re holding her thighs. But most of the class is outside during this nice warm weather. Plus, Eunha is known to be almost a little too comfortable with skinship. No matter with whom.
“I was gonna ask, if you could… you know… read through it before Wednesday?”
At least she remembers that Ms. Kim likes to randomly collect some student’s homework.
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
“Thanks, oppa!”
Eunha suddenly kisses your cheek and jumps off your lap. Only now do you realize how short her skirt actually is. You can almost see a hint of her ass. It’s probably not compliant with the school dress code, but that’s not unusual. All the kids at school have decently rich parents. They couldn’t care less about the school’s rules.
It’s embarrassing to say, but you can’t keep your eyes off Eunha’s thighs. Until you hear someone from behind you.
“Oppa.”
You turn around to see one of your closest friends standing behind your seat.
“Yes, Minju?”
The girl pouts at you and you could’ve sworn you see a glint of anger in her eyes. But they soften, once they focus back on you. Who was she looking at?
“Would you…Would you mind, if we write the essay together? You’re the best at history. Well, except for her.”
Minju nods towards the older girl, who is sitting in the front row.
“It’s also the only subject I’m good at.”
“You are not doing that bad.”
“Then where are my good grades?”
“I can help you. If you help me. Please?”
“Ok, Minju. What about…..Sunday?”
“Sunday sounds great.”
Minju gives you a bright smile.
You check your phone once she has walked away. After finishing your reply, you finally send it.
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Looking up from your phone, you see Yeji enter the classroom. She and Minju seem to be talking about something funny. As always, your anger starts to build up, whenever you see her. If only she’d know. If only Yeji knew what you’re planning on doing on Saturday. How you talked to her mother. Yeji would probably kill you. But that’s exactly what you want. Yeji has been annoying you for far too long. And you will finish this war between the two of you. Once and for all.
At exactly that moment, Yeji turns in your direction. She rolls her eyes and gives you a weird grimace. Like she always does, when your eyes meet. You groan in annoyance. Soon…
You picked this time, because you know that Yeji and Minju are downtown for most of the day. Minju said something about going shopping and trying out a new restaurant. After hesitating for a moment, you press the doorbell. You hear it ring. You step from one foot on the other, while you wait for her. You’re nervous. You know her. You’ve known her for years. You’ve dreamed about-
The door opens. Tiffany stands in front of you.
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You are able to witness the different emotions that wash through her as she looks at you. First, it’s more of a seductive smile, then surprise, confusion, realization and finally shock. Her mouth is opened as if she is about to scream.
“W-What are you doing here?”
“You were looking for someone to shoot content with.”
You try to stay relaxed as if this is completely normal. Tiffany could still send you away. You doubt she would tell your mother, but it'd be awkward between you and Tiffany nonetheless.
“H-How do you even-How do you even know, I have-?”
Her shocked face turns into a worried one as the volume of her voice rises.
“I found your Instagram by accident.”
Tiffany is about to answer, when you hear a car drive past behind you.
“Go inside, before anyone…”
She sighs and you slip past her.
Once Tiffany has closed the door behind you, she gives you an angry glare.
“What do you think you’re doing? You’re way too young to even think about this! And you’re Yeji’s friend! Are you out of your mind?”
It seems like Tiffany has finally overcome her initial shock. You don’t bother to mention that you and Yeji are sworn enemies.
“I’m old enough Tif-”
Her stare makes you change your mind.
“Ms. Hwang. I’ve done this before. I’m not a virgin.”
She gives you a skeptical look.
“And this is also an opportunity for you.”
You add quickly. You thought about how to convince her on your way over, in case she would say no.
“An opportunity? For what? You’re Ms. Seo’s son for god's sake.”
“So what? My mother doesn’t have anything to do with this. And-”
“But I know her! I know you. I can’t sleep around with my neighbor's son!” 
“Why not? I won’t tell anyone. And you said that you’d love to fuck me. You want me to show you-”
You reach for your phone in your pocket. 
Tiffany shakes her head. Her cheeks are red in embarrassment. She can’t believe this is actually happening. How did Seohyun’s son find out about her? There is no way he is actually into her. He is the same age as her daughter.
“Even if you weren’t her son, you are still way too young. You’re barely half my age.”
“That's what I said earlier. This is an opportunity for you.”
“Opportunity? To do what? You're nuts!”
Tiffany storms off, into her living room. You follow after her. You know you're being a little clingy, but this kind of opportunity might never come again. 
“The opportunity to shoot a different kind of content. You know, since I'm younger.”
Yeji's mother turns around and raises her eyebrow. 
“Since you're younger? What do you think is good about that? All young boys think like you.”
Tiffany steps towards you again, her hands on her waist. You can tell she is still fuming. 
“Do you think you have a great…”
Tiffany does a vague gesture towards your crotch. 
“Or do you think you already have experience? Or that you have better stamina than older guys?”
“Yeah, but that’s not my point.”
Tiffany rolls her eyes.
“I don’t even want to hear it. Would you please leave now?”
She gestures towards the front door.
“At least hear me out. You do want more subscribers and eventually earn more money, don’t you?”
Tiffany is already reaching for the door again, when she turns around.
“I’m listening.”
She crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“Well…”
You hesitate for a second. This might come off the wrong way. But by the looks of it, it’s probably your last shot.
“Well, I’m younger than you. That’s true. But you’re also, like you said, twice my age.”
“So? What’s your point? Are you trying to make me feel old now too?”
Tiffany leaves you standing and heads towards her kitchen. You’re walking after her, slightly annoyed that she can’t stand still. While she takes a half opened bottle of wine out of the fridge, you look at her from behind. Her backside makes you lose focus for a moment. Her jeans and her slightly bent over figure makes you hard in excitement. You’re so close. Don’t mess this up.
Tiffany takes out a wine glass and starts pouring herself some whine.
“I’m trying to tell you, you’re a… Well, people my age would call you milf.”
You see her furrowing her brows.
“That doesn’t sound like something nice. And it seems to me like you shouldn’t be saying that to me.”
She looks at you again, while taking a sip from the red wine.
“Well, it means… Mom I like to fuck.”
You hear her choke on the whine she was just about to swallow.
“Excuse you?!”
“What? It’s true. The fact that I’m younger doesn’t mean I don’t find you sexy.”
“You think I’m sexy?”
The disbelief in her voice goes well with her raised eyebrow.
“Yes, I do.”
You can feel that Tiffany isn’t as disgusted at the thought of sleeping with you as before. You can still turn this around.
“Do you know how often I thought about you while….”
You let the sentence linger in the air and Tiffany seems to catch on. 
“Oh, please.”
She scoffs.
“You’re trying to impress me by telling me you jerked off to me once or twice?”
You shake your head.
“More than once or twice. Several times a day, since I’ve found your Instagram.”
“Well…”
You finally seem to have made her speechless.
“And I’m not the only one who thinks you’re hot. I’ve heard more than just a couple of boys talk about you.”
“Oh, really?”
Tiffany raises an eyebrow again, before drinking some wine again. She seems more curious than angry now.
“Yes. That’s why this is such a great opportunity for you. I’m the same age as the boys who want to sleep with you. If we include this theme, of you with a way younger guy, in some of your content, those boys might be more interested in watching your stuff.”
Tiffany has finished her drink by now.
“You mean, appeal to younger people because they can identify with you more?”
“Exactly. There are a couple of great themes or roleplay ideas, which would really draw them in.”
You can almost see how the wheels turn inside her head.
Tiffany sighs as she places the empty glass on the counter.
"Alright. Fine.”
You feel goosebumps form on your skin, when she finally agrees.
“But today is only a test. If you mess up, or this doesn’t work, like you said it would, we are done.”
You quickly nod your head. You can’t believe it. You actually convinced her to have sex with you. On camera.  Yeji’s mother. Tiffany Hwang. 
She pulls a black hairband off her wrist, which you only notice now. After silently tying her hair in a high ponytail, Tiffany sinks to her knees. Right in front of you. You almost forget to breathe.
“Consider this an audition.”
Her eyes wander from your face to your crotch.
You bite your lip as you feel Tiffany’s hands undo your belt and your jeans. They quickly land around your ankles as she slowly lets a finger trace the outlines of your clothed and hard cock.
“Now I’m actually curious, if you were telling the truth about this.”
Tiffany hooks her fingers underneath the waistband of your boxers and pulls them down.
“Not bad at all.”
She smiles as your cock appears right in front of her face.
Tiffany slowly wraps her hand around it and strokes your length once. From the tip to the base.
“I could definitely work with this.”
Tiffany slowly moves her head closer and gives your tip a kiss.
You almost let out a groan already. You can’t believe that she is actually kneeling in front of you. With her hand around your cock and her lips on your tip.
She opens her mouth a little wider and moves down. You feel her lips glide along the length of your cock. Tiffany almost reaches your base, before she retreats again. Her hand around your cock starts stroking the parts of your cock that just left her mouth. Once she finally reaches your tip again, Tiffany gives it another kiss. This one is sloppier. But when she looks up at you, she furrows her brows.
“Why aren’t you recording?”
You’re stunned. The feeling of her lips around your cock has made you unable to move. Tiffany rolls her eyes and motions towards the counter, where she put her phone earlier.
After picking it up, you enter the pin she told you and open the camera. You hit the record button as Tiffany resumes her blowjob. Making sure she is in the frame, you watch her through the phone. But it just doesn’t really compare to the real thing. Now that you got a taste of it, you can’t help yourself.
You have to hold in a deep breath, as you lower her phone a little. Now you can see her better. Tiffany keeps stroking the lower half of your cock, while her mouth works the upper part. The camera can’t catch it, but you feel how her tongue presses against the underside of your shaft. She slowly covers your whole cock in her spit as she starts to make lewd sounds. The vibrations from her mouth are being sent through your cock, into your body and up your spine. Your whole body can feel how Tiffany sucks you off.
When she lifts her head a little further, Tiffany lets your cock fall out of her mouth. Now that the camera can see your whole cock for the first time, you’re a little embarrassed. You are aware that other people will see this. For a moment, you think they could make fun of you, but Tiffany quickly destroys that thought.
“Wow. Your cock tastes so good.”
She smiles up into the camera, before giving your tip another kiss.
“I really like it.”
A wink into the camera and Tiffany resumes her blowjob. You realize too late that she has picked up the pace. You almost drop her phone, when you see her head bob up and down. Her lips glide over your shaft way faster now. Her hand moves quicker too. Tiffany is starting to take more of your cock into her mouth.
Now that her head is moving further forward, everytime she gets deeper onto your cock, you can see a hint of her ass again. The blue jeans she is wearing is hugging her cheeks tightly. You move her phone a little forward and capture more of her ass. 
As Tiffany’s blowjob continues, you start to get more into being her cameraman. While your main focus is still not to cum too fast, you’re now trying out some new camera angles. When Tiffany moves back a little, and only your tip remains inside her mouth, you move the phone on the same height as her face to her left. You’re now filming her side profile. Tiffany seems to know what to do. She looks up at you, her eyes now sparkling with amusement and lust. She slowly moves her lips along your cock once more, making sure the camera captures the exact way her mouth slowly takes in your length. After a couple back and forths, you reposition her phone again. It’s now looking from your perspective down at her, just like at the beginning. 
You focus more on not just suddenly blowing your load inside her mouth. Because you’re now feeling a familiar pull inside your stomach. The way her mouth and hand work your shaft makes you experience something new. Your ex was never this good. You can tell that Tiffany has done this more than just once.
After leaning back again, Tiffany smiles into the camera. She stops stroking you and places a finger two or three inches above your base.
“I just got up to here. Do you think I can manage to go all the way?”
You hesitate for a second, before slowly making the camera nod.
Tiffany laughs.
“Let’s see if I can take it all.”
With another seductive smile on her face, Tiffany takes you into her mouth once more. You brace yourself for what’s to come next. The feeling of her lips gliding down your shaft once more makes you shiver in excitement. You still can’t believe she is actually doing this to you.
When Tiffany reaches her finger, she looks at the camera again. A wink and she removes her finger. You have to stop yourself from cursing as you feel her take more than before. Your tip grazes something deep inside her mouth and Tiffany stops for a second. She still has around one inch to go. You feel how she opens her mouth a little wider. How your tip slowly moves down. You are suddenly aware that you’re now inside her throat. Tiffany pushes her head further onto your cock and you hear her cough. Your whole cock has finally disappeared inside her mouth and throat.
You can feel how the muscles of her throat tighten around you. And you can also feel your incoming orgasm. You try to count in your head, not wanting to cum already. But Tiffany deepthroating your cock, doesn’t help at all. You make it to 12, when you feel yourself throbbing inside of her. She must have felt it too, because she looks up at you, her eyes have naturally become bigger.
You signal her in whatever way that you’re about to finish. But Tiffany only hums in satisfaction, which brings you so much closer to your orgasm. She moans, when you finally do cum. You unload deep inside Tiffany’s throat. Holding onto the phone, you do your best to keep the camera focused on her face.
Tiffany closes her eyes in bliss, feeling how your warm cum paints her throat. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“Follow me.”
Tiffany opens the door to the room next to her bedroom. Yeji’s room is on your left. You glance inside, the door slightly opened. You see her bed, a stuffed toy on it, and a desk. In that moment, Tiffany takes your hand and the two of you walk into the room she just unlocked. The key is still in the keyhole as you walk past. This is probably Tiffany’s way to make sure that Yeji doesn’t know what her mother is doing for a living.
The big window in front of you leads towards the garden. You can see the corner of the pool as you step a little closer. A bed is standing on your right. Next to it a nightstand. One would think it’s just a normal bedroom. But when you turn to your left, you see two tripods with cameras on them. Two cupboards stand against the wall behind those. You guess that’s where Tiffany keeps all her stuff. Costumes, sexy outfits and toys.
“Can you help me set everything up?”
“Sure.”
Reality suddenly seems to crash down on you as you pick up one of the tripods. Tiffany just gave you head. You came in her mouth barely ten minutes ago. And now you’re going to have sex with her on camera. You take a deep breath and set up the tripod near the bed, just like Tiffany told you. It’s not that you’re scared or anything. You’re just really nervous. Tiffany is on a whole different level, compared to your ex. And filming it is different too. You’ve never really done that before.
Once you’re done setting up the cameras, Tiffany walks over to one of the cupboards. She opens it and you can see inside. As you expected, it’s full with all kinds of different outfits. Tiffany takes the one on the far left, but your eyes linger on the one on the right. Is that… a nurse uniform?
“Give me five minutes.”
You nod as Tiffany closes the doors again. You can’t help but look after her as she leaves the room, imagining her in that uniform. You’re now just as hard again as you were when Tiffany took your cock down her throat.
When she closes the door behind herself, you realize that you didn’t even catch a glimpse of the outfit she is about to put on. It was something red. Just like the uniform. You stand where she left you for a moment, before you quickly walk over to the cupboard.
You open the doors again and check out the outfit to your right. A red skirt and a red top, decorated with white lace along the neckline. A matching white apron with a cross on it and a red nurse’s cap. You want to see Tiffany wear this so badly right now. You rub your hand over your clothed crotch as you scan the rest of the cupboard. A black leather outfit, a very low cut green top, which would almost expose her whole cleavage, except for her nipples, a long white dress that almost looks too elegant for this room.
Something else suddenly catches your attention. You squat down and reach for one of the two drawers on the bottom of the cupboard. Biting your lower lip, you feast your eyes on row after row on Tiffany Hwang’s bra collection. There are probably around thirty of them. All differently colored and with different decorations. One has a bow on it at the front. Another one is made out of white lace with butterfly patterns. A third one is a red strapless one. Your hand lingers above a fourth one. It’s blue and it’s not shaped like the other ones. It’s more like a couple of ribbons sewed together, which would only cover Tiffany’s nipples. The rest of her tits would be completely visible. 
You quickly open the other one. It’s full with her panties. All folded and lined up neatly. Some of them seem to have a matching bra in the other drawer, while others seem to be a stand alone item. You catch a glimpse of one that has writing on the front. You slightly push the one on top of it out of the way. 
“Good girl”
Taking a deep breath, you close both drawers again, but not without letting your eyes scan through their contents one last time. You wonder for how long Tiffany must be doing this already. Because these are a lot, even for a woman. You remember when you were young and you rummaged through your moms wardrobe, searching for the TV remote she hid, while she was out of the house, because she didn’t want you to watch TV the whole day. You came across her underwear drawer, but Tiffany’s is on another level. You wonder if she has even more inside her normal bedroom. Or inside the other cupboard?
A second later, you stand in front of it. But just when you’re about to open its doors, you hear footsteps approaching. You quickly look around. You don’t want to be caught going through her underwear. Two giant steps later, you reach the bed and jump onto the mattress. Just in time. Right when you lean your head against the wall behind you, Tiffany opens the door. You almost forget what you just saw. Hell, you almost forget to breathe.
Tiffany as a whole is too much to handle. You feel like your jaw is about to drop, so you quickly look down, not wanting her to think that you’re some naive little boy. Your eyes land on her feet. They’re covered in red stockings, which are barely see through. But you do catch a hint of her white painted nails. Your eyes follow along Tiffany’s legs as you admire how the fabric tightly wraps around her skin. The thicker fabric turns into lace as you reach her thighs. Red roses greet you as you near the end of her stockings. A strap serves as the next path for your eyes to travel on. Its connection with the hem of Tiffany’s stockings is decorated with a small red bow.
Eventually, you reach Tiffany’s waist. It’s covered by her red garter belt, which is, just like her panties and bra, made out of red lace. Her high-waisted panties give you a side view of one of her butt cheeks, before your focus lands on her clothed pussy. You still can’t believe how sexy she is, you can’t get enough of her. Your eyes travel even further. Past her belly button and her garter belt and along her flat stomach. 
Tiffany’s chest is covered by a red lace bra with the same pattern as the top of her stockings. Your gaze lingers right between both her breasts, before you travel along one of her bra straps. You reach her collarbone, which is decorated by a golden necklace, a heart in the middle. Her shoulders are covered in red silk. The night robe she is wearing flows down her back and would’ve hidden her round cheek, if she didn’t rest her hand on her hip. A flirtatious smile plays around her freshly painted red lips. 
“You’ve been staring for ages.”
“S-Sorry.”
Well, you certainly do look like a naive little boy right now.
“I don't mind at all.”
Tiffany laughs, before finally stepping fully inside the room.
“So, have you decided yet?”
“Huh?”
 You zoned out for a second, too distracted by Tiffany turning around and closing the door.
Now she turns back to you.
“Have you thought about a suitable concept for our video? This was your idea after all.”
You clear your throat, trying to buy yourself some time. Since you decided to message Tiffany, dozens of ideas have piled up inside your mind. One more dirty and fucked up then the next. 
“I do have a couple of ideas, actually.”
Tiffany smiles at you as she slowly walks towards the bed.
“Let’s just decide on one for now, shall we?”
She leans down and places her hands on the mattress, right next to your leg. You don’t stand a chance. A second later, you brazenly stare at her voluptuous cleavage.
“We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves yet.”
You tear your eyes off her body once more and focus back on her face. A knowing grin plays around her lips.
“Sure.”
You finally decide on one idea you had in mind.
Tiffany doesn’t look very convinced at first, but as you continue your explanation, her eyes grow a little softer. 
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
You get off the bed, while Tiffany looks around.
“Why don’t you carry the tripod downstairs and I will set up everything else in the kitchen?”
“Sounds good.”
You’re excited. Receiving a blowjob from Yeji’s mom was already an incredible moment. But now, you're about to actually sleep with her. Your finger shakes as you press the record button on the camera, secured on the tripod, which is directed at the open kitchen. You walk into the hallway, as you hear Tiffany starting the coffee machine. You wait for it to finish, before you silently count to ten, just like the two of you planned. You take your phone out of your pocket and hit the record button on it as well.
When you walk into the kitchen, you see Tiffany leaning against the counter behind her. She is facing the door you’re now standing in as she sips on her freshly made coffee. She acts sleepy, covering her mouth, pretending to yawn into her hand.
“Oh, good morning Ms. Hwang. Did you sleep well last night?” 
Your voice makes her look up at you. You make sure your phone captures her face and some of her cleavage. The two of you outlined the general direction of the conversation earlier, but most of it is gonna be improvisation.
“Good morning! I slept pretty well and you?”
Tiffany looks up from her cup and smiles at you.
“I got.. Some sleep. We stayed up pretty late haha. Sorry for all the noise.”
Your words make her shake her head.
“Oh don’t worry, I didn't hear a thing. Would you like a cup? This coffee maker makes a mean cup.”
She gestures towards the machine and of course you accept.
“I would appreciate it. Thank you”
“So why are you up this early? I’d assume you try to get some more sleep after last night.”
“I usually wake up early to get some exercise in. No matter how little sleep I get.”
Tiffany hands you your cup and smiles sympathetically. 
“Oh you poor thing. It's okay to take some days off, you know?”
“Yeah but if I get off my routine I’ll start to get lazy and all my hard work would go to waste.”
She nods in understanding, while you try the coffee.
“And who are you working out so hard for? Who’s my poor baby losing sleep over? A girlfriend perhaps?”
It feels weird to you that Tiffany calls you baby. Especially since she isn’t your girlfriend. But you go along with it.
“No, no girlfriend unfortunately. It’s just for myself to stay in shape. It’s a good way to keep my self disciplined on a routine”
“Well if I could offer my honest opinion..”
A sly, almost hungry smile plays around her lips.
“I think your hard work is paying off quite well.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate that” 
“You know.. because of my daughter’s sleepover. I had to break my own little routine. It’s going to be hard to get back to it without some help.”
Tiffany puts her cup down and steps closer. She keeps eye contact with you.
“Care to lend a hand?”
She places her hand on your shoulder as she says those words. The camera on the tripod catches her movements, while your phone is focused on her face.
“Sorry about that, but if you want.. I could help you out. I have some time.”
A victorious smile plays around the corners of her mouth.
“I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Tiffany bites her lips seductively as she says those words. Her hand slowly moves down your shoulder, past your biceps and along your lower arm, until it reaches your own hand. She takes your coffee and places the mug on the counter next to you.
“Well then handsome…”
She locks her fingers around yours.
“Care to follow me?”
She is face to face with you as she whispers those words. You lift the camera a little, so you can see her properly.
“Lead the way ma’am.” 
You follow after her as Tiffany leads you upstairs.
The two of you walk into the room you were in earlier. Tiffany slings her arms around your neck and turns you around her, so your back is facing the other camera and the bed. Her lips capture yours, which you try to film with your phone. But her lips prove to be too distracting. You close your eyes as you start to lose yourself in the kiss. The last kiss you had was some time ago, with-
Tiffany puts her weight forward, against you, which makes you walk backwards. When your knees hit the edge of the bed, Tiffany finally lets go of your lips. The faint hint of strawberries leaves your lips as you already hope for a second kiss. 
She places a finger on your chest, looking up at you with a seductive smile.
“My routine includes working out too.”
Tiffany doesn’t have to use a lot of force to push you onto the bed. A moment after you hit the soft mattress, she is already straddling you. Your hand finds its way to one of her lace covered thighs, while the other holds your phone, trying to capture as much of her as possible. She kisses your cheek once, before pecking you on the lips. Once more the taste of strawberries lingers on your lips as Tiffany moves her mouth closer to your ear.
"Although I’m usually the one who gets worked out.”
She playfully gives your earlobe a little bite, before she moves down your neck. Kiss after kiss, lick after lick, Tiffany travels towards the hem of your shirt. Your free hand reaches behind her back, trying to undo her bra, but Tiffany slowly moves it away while she shakes her head.
“Not so impatient, baby.”
Her smile sends warmth through your system as she leans down and places that smile directly onto your lips. When she moves back, you feel her breath against your lips.
“Just let me take care of you for now.”
Once more, Tiffany begins her journey along your neck. When she reaches your shirt, you feel her hands sneak underneath it from further down, while she kisses your clothed chest. You feel them exploring your upper body as Tiffany keeps peppering you with kisses. She slowly makes her way towards your crotch, while the rest of her body shuffles backwards, until she is face to face with your clothed cock. 
“Let's see what you have for me.”
Another smile and Tiffany starts to take off your pants. You make sure your phone captures her deep cleavage as she leans over your lower body. 
“Wow.”
Tiffany looks up with an impressed look on her face as she pulls down your pants, revealing your cock.
“I didn’t expect someone my daughter’s age to have such a nice dick.”
“Thank you, Ms. Hwang.”
You make sure that you sound a little embarrassed as she gives your cock a long, slow lick.
“Do you know how much fun we could’ve had last night?”
A second lick follows the first as Tiffany slowly strokes the lower half of your cock.
“I was so horny, thinking about all the young men in my house.”
She lets her tongue swirl around your tip, before she looks back at your face.
“I wouldn’t have minded at all, if you had come in during the night.”
You hold your breath as Tiffany suddenly bobs her head a couple of times on your cock. Her lips glide up and down your length with a speed you weren’t prepared for. But it ended as quickly as it started. Biting back a disappointed groan, you see Tiffany’s eyes sparkle in amusement as if she was silently saying,
“Girls your age don’t play with your cock like this.”
You try to come up with a witty reply, which isn’t as easy as it sounds, when you have someone lying between your legs.
“I will make sure to check up on you during the next sleepover.”
Tiffany smiles as you feel her free hand dive underneath your shirt once more. 
“I’ll be waiting.”
Your head finally sinks back into the sheets, while you keep your phone locked on Tiffany. You’re starting to get the hang of it, while she keeps sucking your cock. Even closing your eyes momentarily, you feel her working your shaft with a level of skill, which you aren’t used to. Like before, her technique is too good for you to handle long term. How Tiffany’s lips wrap around your tip. How they slowly glide along your length. How she sucks on your dick, while keeping an airtight seal around it. How one hand gently cups your balls, while the other keeps drawing circles on your chest. How her tongue swirls around your tip, whenever she lifts her head. How it seems to wiggle around your cock like a snake, when Tiffany almost reaches your base.
A particularly tight grip of her lips around your cock makes you thrust upwards a little. If you didn’t have yourself under control at that moment, that would’ve been it. You would’ve blown your load into her mouth without warning. But you do your best to keep your cool. You still have something to prove. Trying to think of something else, you close your eyes again. Maybe you should surprise her? Should you end this pleasurable torture and leave her heaven like mouth? But what would you do then? How would Tiffany react? 
You hesitate. You’re afraid she might back off. Might call off this whole thing.
“Improvisation and surprise. That’s what draws a viewer in. Excitement.”
Your late father’s words suddenly echo through your head as you reach the verge of your orgasm. You don’t know how your mind got there. But as always, your father is right. 
You reach forward and push Tiffany’s hair a little to the side, cupping her cheek. She leans into your palm a little, humming in acknowledgement. You brace yourself. Gone is your urge to shoot your load down Tiffany’s throat. For some reason, she has triggered your competitive spirit with the way she is sucking you off.
Tiffany lifts her head once more, her lips gliding across your cock. When she reaches your tip, you feel that tongue again. How it swirls around your tip. How she-
You stop yourself. You count to three inside your head. All or nothing.
A frown appears on Tiffany’s forehead as she feels you slowly pulling her off your cock. Her mouth is already empty when she looks towards you. You quickly wrap your legs around her torso. You feel her struggle for a second on instinct. But a second later, you already roll you both over. You land on top of Tiffany, who has a surprised look on her face. She didn’t expect you to be able to do this. 
A grin appears on your lips as you steal a kiss from her.
“Since I saw you downstairs, I wanted to know what your pussy tastes like.”
You lean down and suck on Tiffany’s neck. A moan leaves her lips and you could swear she is smiling now.
“Do you always dress this sexy, when your daughter has friends over?”
Tiffany gasps. Not intentionally. She is very surprised by your change of attitude. She was able to tell that you weren’t as confident and experienced as the other men she's been with. She had been wondering if she made the right call. It was still weird to her to be doing this with a boy. With her neighbor’s son, to be exact. She felt how close you were to already cuming down her throat mere seconds ago.
But now, you’re on top of her. Tiffany feels how your lips slightly suck on her skin. How you give her neck small bites. Your free hand has moved to take a handful of her right breast, now squeezing it through her bra.
For a second, she wonders if this is all an act. An act to make the video as good as possible. But then again…
You couldn’t just do this without some sort of proper confidence.
Tiffany glances at your phone, making sure that you’re still doing that part of your job properly, before she completely lets you take over. She feels your control over her as your weight pins her to the mattress underneath her. 
You quickly reach under her back and undo her bra with one hand. You practiced this long enough, after the first time with your ex. It took you way too long to take her bra off. Even with two hands. But your work pays off now. Tiffany lets out a sigh as she bites her lip, feeling your hand exposing her chest. Your lips move from her neck to her collarbone, while your free hand plays with her tits.
“Yes, baby.”
The woman underneath you moans into your ear. You move on from her neck soon enough, leaving a trail of kisses on your way to her chest. Once you reach her tits, your hand moves further down too. It glides over Tiffany’s tight tummy as you lick her breasts. You occasionally take a slightly brown nipple into your mouth and suck on it. Your actions make Tiffany arch her back into the air, further towards your lips and your tongue.
Meanwhile, your hand has reached her garter belt. You slip past it, feeling her belly button underneath your palm. As your fingertips touch the hem of her panties, you playfully bite into one of her nipples. Not hard. But the unexpected stimulation makes Tiffany moan out loud.
“Holy fuck!”
You are not as inexperienced as she thought you were. Your lips now follow your hand’s path, leaving Tiffany desperate for another bite.
Just as your fingertips graze her pussy lips underneath the red lace, you pull them away. You hear her breath hitch as you place your hand on her thigh. The milky white flesh feels soft, but firm at the same time. The red strap that connects her stockings to her belt is being pressed into your palm as Tiffany flexes her thighs. She feels your mouth coming closer. You record the place where your lips just were as you finally reach her panties. You lift your head, taking a moment to do a close up shot of her lace covered core. Glancing at her face, you see Tiffany’s red cheeks. Her aroused and slightly curious face makes you smile on the inside. You’re proud of yourself for making her crumble underneath your touches.
Moving your phone a little out of the way again, you lean forward. You plant a kiss on her panties, quickly inhaling her scent.
“You’re way too good at this.”
You wonder if that’s Tiffany who said that, or the character she is playing right now. Another kiss makes her hips buck in your direction. 
“Don’t tease me.”
She sighs, giving you a desperate look, which you make sure to capture with your phone.
“Remember, you’re partially responsible for messing up my routine.”
You kiss her thigh instead, which makes her shake her head.
“No, please. You promised to make it up to me.”
Her desperate tone makes you give in. Your ex told you more than once how important foreplay is, so you always took it quite serious. But it seems like Tiffany has already had enough. 
Because you can’t just take off her panties, you pull them to the side. A mouthwatering sight reveals itself to you as her slightly brown lips glisten with arousal. You quickly do another close up shot, but your excitement makes you cut it short. Soon, your lips kiss a circle around her lips as you already have a slight hint of her taste on them. 
“You make me so wet.”
Another sigh from Tiffany as she reaches for a fistful of your hair. You feel her grab the phone, so you hand it over to her. You can’t see it, but you can almost feel how she films you, while you start to swipe your tongue over her folds. You do the same motion over and over again. Swiping your tongue from the bottom to the top. Whenever you come too close to her clit, Tiffany clamps her thighs together, letting a moan escape her lips. The only problem is, that your head is in between them. You use both your hands to take a hold of her thighs, not wanting to get crushed, as Tiffany moans and whines. You can’t believe that Yeji’s mother is making these sounds because of you. You never thought you would see her in only underwear, or naked ,or, specifically, her bare pussy. 
You’re still trying to pinpoint what exactly Tiffany tastes like. Does her pussy taste like strawberries too? Just like her lips? Not really. It tastes a little different. You dive deeper, trying to get to the bottom of this. Your tongue now roams inside her velvet tunnel, making Tiffany’s head fall back. Her hand in your hair starts to make your scalp burn as she keeps tugging at it harder and harder. She keeps pressing your face right into her pussy as you lick and eat her out with all your might. 
The sweet, but slightly salty taste of her juices invade your mouth, while you make Tiffany moan and gasp. Her state of mind switches constantly from surprise, to pure lust, to confusion, to arousal and back to surprise. She didn’t expect this at all from you.
Yes, it’s not the best oral sex she’s ever gotten. And your technique is a little sloppy. But Tiffany didn’t even expect you to have a technique. She thought you were too young. Too inexperienced to properly pleasure a woman like her. But you’re proving her wrong right now. The way your tongue glides along the insides of her pussy. The way it occasionally changes its path and gives her clit a flick. The way you bury your face deep into her core. Tiffany is pleasantly surprised at your visible love for her pussy. More often than not was she with guys, who never even bothered eating her out. And if they did, she felt like they were seeing it as a chore. But you seem to enjoy having your tongue buried deep inside her snatch.
Your effort and your pure intention to just make her feel good makes Tiffany mewl and shake. Her thighs close around your head again and again. Her hand pulls you further into her core. 
She knows that you’re not quite there yet. Your work is enough to make her fall apart though. To moan your name and breathlessly beg for more. Tiffany wonders, with only a little bit of teaching, you could probably make her cum once or twice on a regular basis. The thought alone makes her pussy even wetter. But it also makes her long for you even more. She suddenly feels the great urge to properly feel you inside of her. She needs you to finally fill her with your cock.
“Need your cock, baby.”
Tiffany whines, her hand in your hair, gently pushing you off her cunt.
“Give it to me.”
She hands you your phone and you make sure her whole body is in focus once more. You kneel in front of her as you stroke your shaft, which is still wet from her earlier blowjob. You can’t help but feel excitement rush through your veins. Up until now, everything was perfect. You still can’t believe your luck. Two blowjobs and the opportunity to eat out Tiffany Hwang. Your attempt to make Yeji’s life hell has already proven to be more pleasurable than you could’ve ever imagined.
And now, you place your cock on top of her labia. Her juices glisten on her skin and you start to rub your cock against her lips. 
“Oh, gosh. No teasing!”
Tiffany’s needy voice doesn’t stop you from building your own anticipation as high as possible. This is the moment you’ve dreamed of for years. You still remember the first time you touched yourself to Yeji’s mom. It was summer and you were invited to some neighbor’s garden party. Tiffany showed up in a very tight dress that showed off her ass and a very low cut neckline. Since that day, you imagined her so often while you-
Tiffany interrupts your thoughts by slinging her legs around your waist. The red fabric rubs against your skin as she takes your hand into hers, your cock now freely resting on top of her cleanly shaven cunt.
“Stop playing with me already, baby. I can’t take it anymore.”
Your world starts to spin as Tiffany pulls the same move that you pulled on her earlier. Once more, you’re lying on your back, while Tiffany sits on your lap. Her pussy still rubbing against your cock.
“You’ve got to learn this lesson, baby. “
Tiffany reaches down to stroke your shaft. Her face is marked with pleasure as her dominating stare seems to burn your soul.
“I’m not a patient woman. If I say I need cock, then I do mean I need cock.”
With those words, Tiffany lifts herself off your lap and positions herself right above your tip. Her labia grazes it once more and you feel her fingers hold your cock in place. You make sure your phone catches your cock penetrating her pussy. You almost let it slip out of your hand. It has been a while since you had sex with your ex. But even if you would have cum during the blowjob earlier, you would be just as close to your orgasm as you are now. Her velvet walls squeeze your tip as Tiffany lowers herself onto your cock.
“Oh my gosh!”
You hope the set up camera captures her face, because the only body parts you are able to move are your eyes. They switch between the sight of her pussy engulfing your cock, to watching how a high pitched moan leaves her mouth as she bites her lips, and back to your shaft disappearing inside her cunt.
“You’re so big inside me. I love your cock.”
Tiffany gasps as she slides down your shaft. The more she takes, the more strength the both of you need to keep it together. One of her hands has found itself entangled in her brown hair, messing it up as she tugs and pulls on it, trying to get accustomed to you being inside of her. Her other hand is pressed flat on your chest, giving her enough stability to keep sitting upright. Your own free hand can’t hold itself back anymore. You reach upwards to squeeze one of her breasts, which makes Tiffany’s head roll back.
Under heavy moans, she slowly begins to ride you. It is a fantastic show she is able to pull off. How her hips meet yours. How her waist moves when she rolls her hips a little. How her tits slightly bounce. How her red lips produce moan after moan.
And the feeling. You can’t really describe it. Your time with your ex now seems like a smudged water painting, while Tiffany’s ride makes you feel like looking at an 8k picture. Her slick cunt coats your cock with her juices. Her nails slightly dig into your chest. The stimuli that flood your brain seem to overload your mind. 
“Fuck.”
It’s the first time you have to curse under your breath. Tiffany just lifted her legs a little, placing her instep on your thighs. You feel the red fabric rub against your skin. Most of her weight is now being supported by her knees on the mattress and her hand on your chest. Tiffany leans over, showing off her tight tummy to the camera, while her hair falls into her face. 
You raise your upper body and capture one of her nipples with your mouth.
“Gosh, yes!”
By now, both her hands have found their place on your chest. Tiffany keeps her slightly bent over position as she keeps bouncing on your cock. Her smooth walls make your cock as hard as it has never been before. You eagerly suck on her tits as you aim your phone at her pussy. The sounds of her cheeks clapping against your lap fills the room, accompanied by her moans and an occasional groan from you. Your hand, which was fondling her tits, is now right above her pussy. Your thumb flicks against her clit. The result is louder moaning. An increase of pace in her riding. And visibly more scratch marks than before.
You actually manage to drive Tiffany towards her orgasm. Which quickly proves to be a bad thing for you. Her cunt squeezes you harder with every flick of your thumb against her clit. She now slams herself down all the way to your base, making her pussy take every last inch of you. Now you’re close too.
“Damn, you have such a nice pussy.”
You manage to say through your teeth, trying to hold in the inevitable. Tiffany pulls off a satisfied smile. But her focus is certainly needed elsewhere. She can’t believe you’re actually able to hold out this long. For a second, she thought you were gonna cum after only a minute, when she saw your reaction to your cock disappearing inside of her. Now she is on the verge of her own orgasm. She can feel you twitch inside of her. Your face tells her that the two of you either cum together, or no one cums. Tiffany decides on the latter. The video isn’t finished yet. If you want to make more appearances in the future, she will need to test you a little more. So far, your cock definitely qualifies. But what about your fucking? She has been the only one working hard up until now.
Tiffany slows down drastically. It unintentionally makes you thrust upwards once or twice, before you have yourself under control. Tiffany leans further down, her mouth now next to your ear.
“Time to work me out properly.”
You turn your head slightly, pulling Tiffany into another kiss. Your lips stay locked for a while as her hips slowly move in circles around your dick.
“Get on all fours.”
Tiffany was about to suggest the next position, but you beat her to it. A satisfied smile plays around her lips as she slowly gets off you.
“That’s right, baby. Make me take your cock like a slut.”
Her words trigger something primal in you. Maybe that was her intention anyway.
As soon as Tiffany is in position, you kneel behind her. Your phone captures how you slap both her ass cheeks once, before squeezing them softly.
A moan echoes through the room as Tiffany feels her cheeks burn up after another spank. She directly faces the camera, standing on the tripod, right at the edge of the bed. She could touch it, if she stretched out her arm. She bites her lip as she feels you aligning your cock with her pussy. You rub your tip against her labia again, teasing her a little.
“You’re such a bad boy.”
 Tiffany sighs, feeling how you barely graze her pussy. She secretly loves how you tease her. You turn her into a begging slut in front of the camera.
“Oh yes! Right there!”
Tiffany lets out a loud moan, when you finally do push inside her again. Your hand automatically glides over her slightly arched back. You marvel at how smooth her skin feels, while her walls pull you further into her. You take a hold of her red lace garterbelt, slightly twisting the fabric to use it as a makeshift rein. You pull her onto your cock, while thrusting forward.
“Oh lord!”
Tiffany lets out a surprised yelp, surprised by you suddenly bottoming out inside of her. You quickly settle in a rhythm that works for you and start to fuck Tiffany from behind. Moans spill from her lips, her fists open and close around her sheets, her feet shuffle around as you use her pussy. Her insides feel just as good as when she rode you a moment ago. But now that you had a taste of her warm depth, you start to become greedy. You want to go as deep into her body as you can. You want to feel how her body completely swallows your cock. How her labia stretches around your shaft.
You put some pressure with your hand on her back. It makes Tiffany arch her back further, her upper body getting closer to the mattress. Her body’s center of gravity moves forward, which lifts her feet off the mattress. Once more, Tiffany’s clothed insteps touch your body. They rest on your hips, which makes her ass look even rounder. You can feel yourself now being able to just push that little bit deeper into her. It makes you increase your pace and you keep pushing her further down.
Finally, Tiffany’s head rests on the mattress. She still tries to keep eye contact with the camera. She does her best fuck-me face. Biting her lower lip, frowning, her eyes only half open. But she can’t keep it up for long. Your thrusts into her cunt makes her feet, which are pressed against your hips, hit her ass. With every thrust, her heels dig into her cheeks.
“Gosh, baby! You’re so deep! I-”
Tiffany’s sentence is interrupted by another loud moan, when you reach down to grab one of her arms. You put it on her back and make her close her hand around her garterbelt. You do the same with the second one. Now, Tiffany’s face is buried in the sheets, her muffled moans are only barely audible over your hips smacking against her ass. You know that her viewers would love to see her pleasure wrecked face though. At least you would.
You reach out to grab a fistful of her hair and make it into a makeshift ponytail. You lift her head by pulling at it.
“Oh fuck!”
 Tiffany greets you with a loud cry as she feels you fucking her as deep as you possibly can.
“That’s it, baby!”
You feel her cunt tightening around you, whenever you pull on her hair a little. Her upper body is completely in the air, only supported by your grip on her hair and her own hands on her garterbelt. Her back still shows off a beautiful arch though and you can see a small trail of sweat run down towards her ass.
“Fuck me harder!”
Tiffany whines loudly as you keep using your control over her entire body to pleasure yourself. She has given up trying to look sexy for the camera for a while now. Her mouth is now just hanging open, her tongue slightly visible as she takes your pounding from behind.
“Fucking use my pussy!”
You feel it tighten at her own words. You’re surprised how much she is enjoying it. You really hope you’re proving to her that this was a great idea.
“Make me your bitch! Yes!”
Tiffany cries out as you bottom out in her cunt again and again. A strand of her hair has escaped your fingers and is now swinging to your rhythm on the right side of her face.
“Fill me with this young cock!”
Her moans get louder and louder. But unfortunately, you are starting to reach your breaking point once more. There isn’t much left in you. You have to admit that your muscles are starting to grow tired. Your ability to hold back your orgasm becomes weaker. Letting a shaky breath escape your lips, you let go of Tiffany’s hair. She falls face first into the mattress, accompanied by a surprised yelp.
“You’re way too tight, Ms Hwang. I’m gonna cum soon.”
Before she can react properly, you turn her over. Tiffany manages to take her hands off the garterbelt, before she lies on her back. Her messed up hair hides parts of her face as she looks up at you with anticipation. Before you started recording, the two of you decided on how to end your sex scene. As much as you would’ve liked to cum in her mouth again, or maybe even inside her pussy, her suggestion wasn’t that bad either.
Now that she is lying in a missionary position in front of you, you grab the red lace around her waist once more. Your phone is focused on her whole body yet again, as you begin your final sprint towards the end. Her stocking covered legs wrap around your hips, keeping you in place. She doesn’t even have to do that. Nothing in this world could stop you from fucking her right now. You watch how your entire cock penetrates her pretty lips again and again. Her smooth skin around her cunt glistens with sweat and her own juices. Pulling Tiffany towards you, using the garterbelt, has you penetrate her as deep as possible yet again.
You feel your cock starting to throb. And judging by the increasing volume of her moans, so does she.
“Yeah! Cum on me, baby!”
“Fuck.”
You grunt in response, unable to hold yourself back as you fuck her as hard and deep as possible. 
“Paint me! Make me your bitch!”
You know you won’t last a moment longer. You feel a familiar pull and you quickly try to pull out of Tiffany’s warm cunt. Almost too late. A second later, you cum on her pussy.
“Oh yes, baby. Claim my pussy.”
A groan leaves your mouth. Stars dance around in front of your eyes. Your knees buckle. You do your best, to keep your eyes open. You want to see what you did to Tiffany.
Her pussy is covered in your cum, her slightly brown lips sticky with semen. A small trail runs down her skin, heading towards her ass and the sheets.
The both of you are trying to catch your breath, once you finally finish. You keep recording her, showing how Tiffany’s tits and her stomach move up and down, before you do a close up shot of her cum covered cunt.
“Oh my gosh.”
You hear her sigh, a satisfied smile on her face. You watch and record how Tiffany reaches down and starts to play with your cum on her pussy. She slowly rubs her clit and occasionally lets a finger disappear inside her cunt.
“You can turn it off now.”
You look at her and stop the recording. Staying silent, you wait for her verdict, although it seemed like she was satisfied with your performance.
“Not bad for a boy. I could see us doing this again.”
You can’t hide your wide smile, excitement washing through your body. 
“But if you lied to me and this kind of theme doesn’t help me at all…”
“It will.”
You sound surprisingly confident. But then again, who wouldn’t be, after experiencing possibly the best sex in your life.
Tiffany nods and starts to get off the bed. You do the same, but you can’t help but glance at her, while the two of you get dressed.
“Let's do the ending scene.”
Tiffany has slipped her panties back to their original place, put on her bra and thrown her silk robe over her shoulders.
The two of you now stand in front of the door, just like you planned earlier. You make sure that Tiffany is in focus, before hitting the record button once more. She opens the door a little, but then looks at the camera.
“I hope my daughter has another sleepover soon. I would hate it, if I would have to wait too long for you to come back.”
“Don’t worry, Ms Hwang. I’m sure she will do one again on her birthday.”
“Oh! You’re right.”
An excited smile plays around Tiffany’s lips.
Then, she steps closer, her face almost touching yours. Her eyes become seductive once more.
“I won’t be able to wait till morning though, if I know you’re sleeping in the next room.”
She takes your free hand and guides it towards her core. Your fingers dive underneath her panties. You make sure that the camera captures that.
“I’m gonna try to sneak out as soon as I can. But we stayed up very late yesterday. I doubt we will go to bed earlier next time.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Her hand reaches down, cupping your balls.
“The possibility is very slim. But if I do fall asleep early…”
Tiffany whispers, before kissing your cheekbone, her hand now stroking your cock over your pants.
“Don’t bother waking me up.”
Her voice becomes barely audible as she looks directly into your eyes, her other hand pushing your finger deep inside of her.
“Just put it in.”
“Fuck, yes!”
You whisper, when you see that Tiffany has sent you a video. It's almost midnight and you’re lying in your bed, about to go to sleep. You have actual footage of you, fucking Yeji’s mom. After years and years of fights and humiliation, you finally hold the ultimate weapon in your hand. You know that Yeji will be at Eunha’s party tomorrow. Now, you only need a plan for getting the video to her.
------------------
Hello everyone!
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new series "SNSD Village". There will be many more epsidoes to come, so please stay tuned. I will post the polls, which can infleunce the next chapter, later.
Stay healthy, everyone!
619 notes · View notes
viennakarma · 9 months
Text
Happiness is a butterfly
Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.
Word count: 6.4k
Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read
Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.
Hope it's to your liking, Anon!
Find me on Twitter!
“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.
Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.
Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.
It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.
You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.
Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.
That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.
“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.
“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.
Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.
“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.
“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”
“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”
You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.
Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.
“You came to the party?” You asked.
“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”
“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.
You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.
“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”
“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”
He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.
When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.
“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.
“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 
“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.
“You know you are stunning.”
“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”
“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.
“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”
“I can’t.”
“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.
“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.
“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.
“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.
“Then don’t.”
That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.
“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.
Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.
“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.
You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.
Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.
“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.
He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.
“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.
He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.
“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”
“Just you and me?”
“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.
And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.
And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.
Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.
But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.
You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.
There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.
Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.
You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.
“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.
“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.
You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.
“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.
“Hm, I’m not sure.”
“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.
“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.
“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”
You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.
You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.
Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.
Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.
As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.
Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.
“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”
“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”
“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.
“Thank you”
He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.
You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.
“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.
“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.
“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.
He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.
And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.
“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.
“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”
You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.
“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”
With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 
When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.
“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.
He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.
You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.
“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”
You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.
“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”
“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”
“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”
That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.
“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”
“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.
“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.
“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.
There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.
“Please let us just talk about it-”
“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.
“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.
You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.
“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”
“I don’t want you.”
“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”
The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.
When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.
You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.
“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”
His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.
And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.
He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.
The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.
By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.
It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.
“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.
A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.
“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.
“No,” Somebody said, somberly.
“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.
When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.
Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.
“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”
“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”
“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.
The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.
“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”
“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.
You had to be fine.
“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”
He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.
On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.
But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.
By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.
Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.
“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.
“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”
“I will not leave.”
Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.
After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.
“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.
“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.
“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.
“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”
She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.
As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.
The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.
Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.
His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.
He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.
“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.
“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.
“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.
“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”
“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.
“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.
“I know.”
He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.
“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.
“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.
Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.
Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.
You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.
He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.
After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.
In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.
Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.
“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.
He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.
It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.
Only you didn’t.
You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.
“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”
“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”
“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.
“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”
“But-”
“I’ll pay for it.”
That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.
He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.
When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.
“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.
As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.
“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”
He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.
“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”
He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.
He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.
Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.
As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.
“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.
“She woke up!”
Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.
“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.
Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.
He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.
Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.
And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.
“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”
“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.
When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.
“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”
You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”
You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.
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a2zillustration · 3 months
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Farewell
Not "farewell," but "see you later."
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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]
[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]
...Time to blather on under the cut. I've got thank yous, some notes about potential future comics, and if you scroll to the end of the post, I've decided to compile Croissant Adventures into a physical book. It's mostly for me, so I can hold all TWO HUNDRED AND FIVE of these strips in my hands, as a brick, but if you'd like to own a copy as well, I'll have a link to the preorders down below. If this is where you're going to stop reading, I'll extend a quick heartfelt thanks to you for joining me on this adventure!
Thank you, reader.
This is undeniably the largest project I've ever tackled in my art career; it was never supposed to be this big, and I expected maybe a handful of people to read it, at most. Instead, it became this massive project that I've been working on for ten months straight, and in the end these characters meant so much to me. I'm incredibly grateful for everyone who's bothered to read my little comic strips, whether it was just one or two, or if you've been here since the beginning, following Croissant's adventure from the minute they plummeted off the nautiloid. Thank you so much for being here and supporting this project. Thank you to everyone who left kind words and comments, sent me asks about Croissant, liked or reblogged these posts, or just read these and enjoyed them! While I was determined to finish this project no matter what happened, you certainly made it all the more fun and kept me excited to tell you the next part of Croissant's story.
Thank you, Larian.
If by some chance someone at Larian ever happens to see these, I also want to give an immense thank you to everyone who was a part of making this game. I don't play that many games these days, but BG3 rocketed to the top of my all-time favorite games almost immediately. (It was also the game that made me feel the most out of anything I've ever played; I got legitimately depressed for a few days during my run don't worry I'm fine now we're all good haha). You can tell there was so much work, and so much love involved in this game's development, and I'm so happy the studio has been rewarded with multiple awards in recognition of that dedication to making a fantastic game. Thank you again for sharing this story with us, and I can't wait to see what the studio does in the future.
Is this goodbye?
I'm hoping this is less of a "goodbye," and more of a "see you later." I'll probably take a bit of a break, since I've put off other projects for months, and art fight is happening, but I have many more things I'd like to add to Croissant's story! I have yet to play the epilogue, and I intend to illustrate parts of that depending on what happens. I also have a handful of comics for post-game Breadweave, in addition to some scenes I thought would've happened in-game but weren't canon so I left them out of the original story. (If I haven't gotten to these in a few months and you find yourself wondering about Croissant again, my ask box is always open, feel free to give me a good kick to get me back into their story, lol).
...A book?
I said I never intended this project to be so large, and I meant it. But now that I'm sitting here with two hundred and five Baldur's Gate 3 Tav comics, I really wanted to compile them into a physical book for me to hold. This is mostly for me, but if you'd also like one, I'll have a preorder available in my shop until the end of July.
✨✨✨ Croissant Adventures Preorder ✨✨✨
If you made it to the end of this post, I can only thank you again, from the bottom of my heart. I hope Croissant's story brought you joy, and if you're able to play BG3, I hope that you're having just as much fun in your own tavs' stories.
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wonustars · 5 months
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𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 (Teaser)
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𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x reader 𖥔 wordcount: ~15k+ (this teaser: 599) 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)
𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!
𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.
𖥔 tags: fake relationship/marriage!au, non-idol!au, mafia!au, afab!reader, norbert is readers cat (more tags when the fic is posted) 𖥔 release date: may 14 or 15, 2024 𖥔 author's note: if i end up posting after the predicted dates plz do not crucify me 🙏 ik a lot of people have been waiting for this one so i'd thought i post a teaser since i have 2-3 chapters left till its finally finished. thank you to all of those who sent in their ideas and to those who've shown so much interest in this story :") i really hope it lives up to your expectations!! see u soonest - anna ♡ !!!!
𖥔 keep reading
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The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward to say the least.
Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homely" as possible. 
Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye-candy. Despite the fact that he wore his pink shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn. 
Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in. 
“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal. 
“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully. 
“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.
The group of fourty plus year old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratches the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him good-bye, curious as to what they group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers isn’t it? 
The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt he left. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raises a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it. 
“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand. 
Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you, there wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you’ve moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him. 
“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house. 
You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyways, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden. 
From across the yard, neither you of Mingyu notice Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awfully awkward for newly weds, he thinks to himself. 
“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book. 
Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?” 
“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more.
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erinfern0 · 1 year
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paint the sheets red
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soft!dom!roman x afab!reader (smut ending with fluff)
- afab anatomy, gender neutral nicknames, only used pronouns are you etc.
summary: roman just craves to help you get through your period, he can't help burying his face between your legs.
warnings: period oral sex (r receiving), praise, somnophilia, blood kink, fingering, use of safe word, spit, edging, mention of aftercare, slight dom/sub dynamic, anxiety, etc
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Usually, when you're on your period, you two try to stay away from each other, mostly for your own safety. Being sane, he would never risk so much by being close to you while you were bleeding, and you usually complied. Today was different. Today, you were desperate for his attention. You needed him close to you, to whisper that everything is going to be fine and that those feelings won't last. You were lost in your own head, trying to stay collected while running your hand over your stomach, imagining it was his.
The day was going awful. The cramps had been killing you since you woke up. Not a single pill helped to ease the pain you felt physically. You also suffered mentally from your boyfriend not responding to your texts.
Roman was busy like this usually, answering you only when he had enough time for you or when he just finished his job. You texted him in the morning, describing how bad you felt and how nice would it be if he came around in the evening. Walls of messages filled his phone but he couldn't leave the meeting as he wanted to. You were aware he had responsibilities other than you, which made you feel even worse - you felt like a burden for interrupting him like this. You closed the app and quickly threw your phone against the mattress of your shared bed with a sigh. You crawled up on top of the bed, bringing your knees to your chest as your side, pressing your hand over your warm stomach, trying to ease the pain, quiet curses mumbled under your breath.
Roman looked at his phone, biting his lower lip. You needed him. More than usual, and he wanted to be there for you. He could just leave, he had enough money to ignore the new client, but he knew it wasn't good for the company. He kept bouncing his leg under the desk as the men talked above him. They were asking him questions and he would just mindlessly nod his head, staring at the texts you sent him.
At first, he just thought about the pain you felt, about your loneliness and agony. How much he just wanted to be there with you, cuddling you while whispering how much he loves you. The thought of you flashing over and over in his mind, hand squeezing the phone to force himself not to message you back yet.
But then something else grabbed his attention. he looked over one of the texts and froze. Period. He had read it before and knew the reason behind your pain, but it hit him just now. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Blood. He ran his tongue over his top teeth, feeling how sharp his teeth were, mouth watering just by the idea of you. Sex and thighs covered in the red substance that tasted so damn good. He couldn't shake off the fantasy of bringing his lips to the soft flesh of your inner thighs, tasting you while his hands held your hips down to prevent you from moving too much. His eyes started getting hazy from craving you, scanning the people in front of him as he dug his fingernails deep into his palm.
The men didn't seem to notice how his eyes started slowly darkening in front of them. He had to have you. Now.
He lifted his body off the chair a little too quickly, overwhelmed by the sound and feeling of the blood running in his guests' veins. He felt dizzy, supporting his weight over the desk as he looked up at them. "Gentlemen... I believe I've heard enough" he says. The man who was taking care of the presentation froze mid-slide. "I'll think about your offer and let you know about my decision, give me some time. Thank you for being here" he said, almost politely before grabbing his phone off the desk and rushing to the elevator, loosening the tie just enough to help him breathe.
He texted you he'd be there soon but you were already asleep, trying to fight the pain. Despite how short the ride home was, it felt like hours to him, clenching his jaw, trying to discipline himself as he pulled up to the front yard. He quickly left his car, mind focused on whispering your name over and over like a spell in his head as he walked into the bedroom. He froze as soon as he saw you.
That perfect body curled up on top of the bed in your shots and a t-shirt, but not a regular t-shirt. One of his. He could smell you from the corridor, but now, when he stood in between the door frame the scent of your skin hit his head a little harder. He was obsessed with it. His urges only fueled inside of him as he saw you shift in your position, arms above your head that is slightly tilted, knees bent and shifted to your right just enough to slightly expose your butt from under the shorts, that's when he noticed it.
He could scent it before but he just thought it was because of your pad, now he knows the reason he could smell your blood so easily is because you were just utterly drenched with it. Your underwear, shorts, and the sheets covered with such a beautiful shade of red, he wouldn't even dare to look away.
Eyes focused on you, he starts slowly walking closer to the bed, his hands fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt just enough to expose his collarbones. Then he quickly takes off his tie and throws it somewhere behind him.
His eyes darken as he slowly spreads your legs, a gasp escaping his lips at the sight of the most incredible meal he's going to ever consume in his life. He cursed under his breath as he saw your face, scrunched with pain. 'poor thing', he thought and kissed one of your knees before slowly kneeling on the bed, brushing his fingertips over your thighs, trying to avoid the blood just yet.
He clenched his jaw, the thought of doing this to you in your sleep was getting him painfully hard in his jeans. He couldn't help but palm himself through them. You've done many things in the bedroom already, including somno, but never when you were covered in that beautiful blood of yours.
He bit his lip as he slowly moved your shorts and underwear down, a pitiful mewl leaving his mouth as he saw how red and slick you were. He rubbed his thumb over the red clots of blood on the material and smiled, throwing it somewhere on the bed. His hands were already covered in the substance as he gripped your thighs, leaving his bloody handprints over you. He just couldn't help himself.
He heard your tiny gasp in your sleep, causing his already throbbing cock to twitch. "Fuck", he cursed under his breath before slowly lowering his mouth to your heated skin, lips traveling over your inner thighs as he tried to remain as sane as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was to harm you, especially when you suffered much already.
He moaned at the taste of you, your sweet and perfect blood on display for him as he licked your inner thigh. His eyes were closed, hips slightly moving against the mattress as he got closer to your core, leaving trails of dark hickeys over your skin, barely visible because of the substance covering them. He gave your cunt a quick kiss before running his lips to your other thigh, doing the same thing over and over until he heard you whimper in your sleep.
"Oh, you like that?" he asked in a whisper, trying to talk to you while you were still unconscious "God, I want to see your eyes on me." he added, mostly to himself as he gave your swollen and sensitive bud a lick, just enough to make your legs twitch.
His fingers started spreading your folds to see the way blood slowly leaked from your hole, a smile appearing on his face as he gave it another lick.
And god, your taste. It was driving him crazy. The metallic, tingling feeling over his tongue sent shivers down his spine, causing him to jerk his hips. He growled against your core, sending pleasurable vibrations in your way. Under the blood, he also tasted something better. Your delicious wetness mixed with it almost drove him insane. He was fighting the urge to just give in, let go of his humanity, and just sink his teeth over your thighs or core, tasting you in a very different way. He regained his sanity as he saw your eyes slowly opening.
"Good morning, sunshine." he whispered right before slowly sliding his flattened tongue over your slit, causing your legs to tighten around his head. Your soft whimpers fill the room. His actions were lewd, almost animalistic, but the way he looked at you made you just spread your legs wider for him, letting him to take the pain away.
Your hands easily found his hair, tugging on it as you arched your back, craving the sweet feeling of him against you again but then you saw it. You froze immediately, seeing his face covered in red, hazed eyes watching your reactions. Then you looked to the side and bit your lip at the view of blood covering his sheets.
"I-I'm so sorry, Roman." you whispered as you tugged on the material. He just let out a grunt, shaking his head slightly. He wiped his face against your bare thigh, making you gasp as you saw the red staining his lips, teeth, and tongue. "I'll get new ones, I..."
"Don't you worry about it, angel." he mutters before kissing one of your hickeys. The way he caressed your skin with his nose made you shiver, embarrassment hitting your face with a blush. "Be good for me and relax, okay? It's all about you now." his voice was low and filled with lust as he left a gentle bite mark over your skin, just enough to let you see it, not to tear through the tissue.
You couldn't help but squirm as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping them close to his face as he looked at you. A silent plea to taste you again, and he didn't hesitate when you nodded your head.
He started running his flat tongue between your folds, collecting anything in his way just to swallow it right up, being careful not to push on your clit too hard. just very light and gentle licks all over you, cleaning you off from the cause of your previous suffering and embarrassment. He chuckled as he saw you reaching under your shirt just to add to the pleasure, but before you touched them you looked down at him. "Yes, you may." he said at your silent question, sucking on your clit slightly.
You gasped and tugged on his hair harder, your other hand quickly running under your shirt, wait, his shirt, teasing your hardened nipples with a hesitant moan.
"Louder, baby." he growled between your thighs and sucked a little harder, leaving your clit with a simple pop. "I want to hear how good you feel."
His words alone make you arch your back to roll your hips over his mouth. Romans eyes flutter with pleasure as he sinks one of his fingers into your drenched hole, spitting on it just to give it some more lube. He moves painfully slowly, just watching your red-covered hole grip his middle digit greedily.
"R-Roman" you gasp, begging for him to go faster. He just placed kisses over your thighs, his finger knuckle deep inside of your cunt as he nods his head.
"I know, sweetheart, I know." he mutters under his breath, leaving a single kiss on your swollen bud. "Just a little more f'me, yeah?" he looks up at you, his eyes filled with unspeakable desire and love towards you as he smiles lazily and picks up the speed, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. Now, the blood smeared over his face looks like proof of his obsession with you. "Color?"
"Green." you gasp and close your eyes shut in pleasure, feeling the slow licks of the tip of his tongue over your clit, only adding to the pure bliss you're experiencing.
The sweet and slow torture lasts a couple of minutes, him getting completely lost in your taste, your soft moans, and your begs as he gets you so close to the edge before he stops moving, leaving you aching for more, for that climax that's so painfully close.
He spat on your core again, pulling his finger out before massaging your hole with the new wetness, gasping as his fingers almost get sucked in by your cunt. But he meets resistance, and frustration hits him as he spits again, trying to work two of his fingers into you, but to no avail.
You squirm with desperation and anxiety as you see him try so hard. Your body cannot take more. Seeing him try like this makes you feel so bad. You have no idea if it's because of your period or just general anxiety, but you hold back, trying to relax for him until it's too much.
"Orange, Roman." you whisper, clenching your fingers over the sheets below you, back arching from the uncomfortable feeling, tears pooling under your eyelids. "Orange... I'm so sorry." you repeat with guilt in your shaky voice.
"Too much?" he asks calmly, despite your worries - he's not at all upset. He's so proud of you for using your safe word, he can't even express it with words. "It's okay, sweetheart, don't you apologize for that." he whispers and runs his fingers between your folds, trying to ease the feeling, and you thank him with a couple of nods of your head. "One's good?" he asks and presses his middle finger over your hole, waiting for your answer.
"It's perfect." you whisper and smile, playing with his hair as he slowly moves the digit inside, quickly finding that spot of yours.
"You wanna cum for me?" he asked before sucking on your clit again, this time a little softer. He chuckles when he sees you nod your head mindlessly. "words, sweetheart, use your words."
You can't help yourself from pulling his hair when he finally presses his mouth against you fully, chin adding slight pressure over his finger as he moves his tongue over your clit in various slow patterns. "Yes, fuck, yes I wanna come for you." you whine as you feel the vibration of his low, lustful hum against your core. He starts to move his hips against the mattress again, his neglected cock throbbing in his pants as he moves away from your cunt for a moment.
"Then be good for me and come, okay? You deserve it so much, angel." his words themselves make you shudder with arousal, mind getting dizzy as he presses his lips against you once more, licking and sucking while his finger abuses your g-spot. The hums only add to the sensation, making you tighten your grip on his hair, pulling him even closer as you begin to see stars.
You reach your climax soon enough, your legs tightly wrapped over his head, shivering mindlessly at the overstimulation, back arching as you moan his name like a mantra, turning into putty for him as you come undone. All you hear is his skilled mouth and finger doing wonders on your cunt as he pulls you even closer, fingers of his free hand so deep into the skin of your thigh that you're sure he'll leave bruises, but you don't mind at all.
Ae allows you to roll your hips over him through your orgasm, getting you down from your high with soft praises spoken against your core, lapping his tongue over you just enough to get those few last drops of your cum. You slowly unwrap your legs and lie down with your breath fastened, watching him swallow everything with a satisfied look on his face, eyes moving over your body with adoration as he stands up.
"Aou need anything?" he asks, caressing your thigh with one hand as the other wipes your cum and blood off of him. You get a little scared as you secretly admit to yourself - seeing him like this is a pure eighth wonder.
"Nothing..." you whisper and rest your head on the pillow, one hand in your hair as the other one finds his, playing with his bloody fingers. "Just some rest."
He nods his head and looks down at his clothes, smiling as he sees the mix of your blood, wetness, and his saliva all over the hem of the dress shirt he was wearing. "of course, sweetheart, you did so great f'me, you know?" he looks back at you and presses a single kiss to your hand. "I'll smoke and come back to you, gotta get you cleaned up, okay?" he smiles warmly as you nod your head and slowly leans over you, kneeling right between your spread legs as he presses his forehead against yours. "Feeling better?" he asks, and you smirk at the feeling if his hardness pressed against your bare thigh.
"Mhm, way better, thank you." you whisper and kiss the top of his head. He hums pleasingly at your affection. Exhaustion hits you right after, legs still shaking slowly as you reach for his belt. "What about you, tho?"
He chuckles and breathes in through his nose, taking in your scent as he nuzzles his nose over your neck. "Don't you worry about it." he whispers and gets off of you, wiping his face in his already stained shirt, then taking it off. He palms himself through his jeans and gasps, his eyes locked with yours. "You need some rest, then a shower. I'll get us some food, you want your regular?" he asks, reaching for the back pocket of his pants, getting his phone and cigarettes from it.
You nod your head and smile at him. He smiles at you back. Adoration in his gaze makes your heart flutter. You close your eyes as you cover your face with a pillow, second hand embarrassment hitting you again as you remind yourself of what you two just did.
"Hey, don't you hide that pretty face from me." he chuckles, feeling your eyes following him suit. You never thought that you could love this man any more than before, but there you are, smiling and throwing the pillow on the bed just to see his face for the last time before he leaves to smoke.
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coco-loco-nut · 5 months
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Book Club - Part 3
Pairing: Grid X Reader, Lance X Reader
Summary: lewis get a new song inspired by one of the book they read that week, a little lance relationship focused as well
a/n: even as an avid reader, i struggle so much choosing books for this 🥲, sorry if this one sucks
requests open 🫶✨ masterlist
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“Alright boys, get ready to swoon!” You pull out copies of your chosen book, The Dead Romantics. After reading classics and adventure, and thrillers, you chose chick-lit. It had been recommended on other book club chatboards, so you deemed it safe for the guys.
“Same time, same place next week,” Daniel grabs a book and walks out. The rest file out of the motor home, books in hand. You follow Fernando to Aston Martin.
“Lance, your girlfriend is here for you,” Fernando calls for him before you can. “Good choice, I enjoyed this one the last time I read it,” Fernando says before walking to his room, leaving you stunned.
“Hello, mon cœur,” Lance kisses you before grabbing your hand and taking you to his room.
“What is the book this week,” He asks once you cuddle up on the couch. Since he found out about the club, he’s been reading the books with you.
“The Dead Romantics, first one to finish gets to choose the next date,” you hand him his copy before starting your own. Lance’s assistant brings in coffees and breakfast for you both while you read.
“When we get married, would you change your last name, combine ours, let me take yours, or leave our names as is,” Lance asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
“Hmm, I like the sound of Y/n Stroll, but maybe I’ll still race under my name,” you decide, paying attention to the books, thinking about the predetermined discussion questions.
“Fuck,” Lance groans after his phone went off, quickly bookmarking his page.
“What’s wrong baby?” you ask, bookmarking yours as well.
“I have a meeting with Dad in a few minutes,”
“Oh, want me to come along? I love your dad,” you run your fingers through his fluffy hair.
“It’s okay, it’ll take a while. You are more than welcome to stay here or go and get ready for the drivers parade. Either way, I will see you after,” he kisses you before gathering a couple things and heading out. You finish another chapter and head to your motorhome, dressing yourself in team gear and redoing your hair. Lance waits for you outside your team garage.
By next week, you both have finished the book and have been raving about it to people, you even sent a copy to George. You won the challenge, although you were sure Lance let you win.
“Have fun at your meeting, you are literally bouncing in excitement,” Lance laughs, kissing the side of your head and leaving you in front of Haas’ hospitality. You quickly find the club, who are equally happy with your pick.
“That was the best romance book I’ve read in a while,” Daniel starts off.
“It was my second time reading it. Much better than the first time,” Fernando agrees.
“And the plot twist!” Nico gasps, all of you nodding along.
“I wrote a song about it,” Lewis says nonchalantly, causing you all to pause.
“Lew… what?” You can’t imagine how one would write a song about it. The book was good, but it wasn’t Shakespeare.
“Yeah, the broken hearts, the forbidden nature of their love, separated by the paranormal, the spiciness of the ending. It inspired me, almost like all those songs for Fifty Shades of Grey,” Lewis explains.
“I don’t know how that would work, but I am sure that you made it work,” Kevin says as Lewis pulls out his phone.
You heard some of his music before, and you knew he could sing and his writing was pretty good. Unfortunately, this was not the case. The singing was great, but the lyrics were a little too… sappy for his style. It wasn’t even sensual, he was just singing about falling in love with someone you shouldn’t.
“That was great, Lewis,” Daniel encourages Lewis,
“If racing doesn’t work out, maybe you will have a career in music,” Valtteri offers, maybe you were the only one who wasn’t a fan.
“He already does, he was featured on a song,” Fernando rushes to pull it up on his phone. You swear he is the proud father of everyone in the room.
“Oh! We should do karaoke!” you gasp, excited at the thought.
“I like the way you think,” Daniel grins at you. It is usually never a good thing when you both get excited about an idea, it tends to end up with alcohol and regret, but never fails to be fun.
“My liver can take that right now, I would participate,” Checo says, leading the group in agreeing.
You and the other drivers rent out a bar the next night and make sure karaoke is set up, Lando DJs in the meantime.
“I’m going to sing my song!” Lewis tells you over your jolly rancher shots.
“Slay!” you cheers the shots, tap the glass to the bar, and take the shot. “I think I’m gonna sing Post Malone,” you reply, and Lewis drags you to sign up. Lance appears beside you, slipping an arm around your waist as he looks at the paper.
“Babe, what song is ‘Why Don’t You Love Me’, I have never seen it on an album,” Lance asks and you tell him its origin. “Oh, that’s funny, I’ll film it,” he writes both of your names down for Total Eclipse of the Heart.
A few shots later and Lewis kicks it off with his song, it is actually a lot better drunk. You follow him up with the meme song, getting everyone laughing, before Lance joins you. The two of you surprisingly sounded very good when you rewatched the video the next day, then posted it to your Instagram story.
“Never. Again.” Kevin groans the next morning as Valtteri walks in, excited to talk with the group.
“That was fun! When are we doing that again?”
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tkingfisher · 2 years
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So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?
How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?
Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3
*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.
But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.
Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.
Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.
Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)
There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.
In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)
Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.
This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?
Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)
For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.
You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.
(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)
Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.
At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.
(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)
So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.
Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.
(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)
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the-peak-tmnt · 7 months
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Hey The Neon Void readers, quick update from the author's sister!
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(art commission by @kaysdenofchaos)
Hi readers of The Neon Void fanfic. This is the author’s older sister. She’s been getting a lot of fan art and asks lately. She’s sent me screenshots of a few unanswered ones looking for advice on how to respond.
While all the love and support of TNV is genuinely appreciated, my sister @sugarpasteltmnt is not equipped to respond to a small handful of these asks/comments that are, quite frankly, inappropriate.
Sugarpastels is not a therapist, and she’s certainly not an internet stranger’s therapist.
She’s an adult with an extremely demanding and stressful job for a very large client. Some of you have already experienced and enjoyed her work IRL without knowing it. Her company is close to finishing another project that will bring a lot of joy to hundreds of thousands of people every year, but working on a project of that scale is extremely stressful.
She is writing this fanfic for fun. TNV is a way for her to decompress and put her creative energy towards something other than work.
What’s not fun is coming home to asks/comments from readers who are projecting their own struggles/mental health onto TNV, and even Sugarpastels herself, and demanding some sort of attention from her over it.
Let’s be real: it’s fun to watch our blorbos suffer! So much of fandom is just us putting our favorite characters in Situations because it’s fun. Simple as that. But I think another reason TNV has resonated so strongly with readers is because of the way Sugarpastels writes the internal struggles of these characters.
We are both aware that TNV deals with mental health topics. Since the early days of “modern” fandom, fanfiction has been a way for people to explore complicated, difficult and sometimes even taboo subjects. There’s no shortage of complex feelings being explored in TNV, which is why we’re all having so much fun reading it.
But that’s all it is; an exploration. Sugarpastels is not a mental health expert. I’ve read a handful of books on PTSD and mindfulness for research while writing my own fanfic, and I would never consider myself prepared to help someone else.
It’s okay if you relate to things from TNV. I know I do! Again, fanfic has always been a way to read about things rarely dealt with (or handled poorly) in published fiction/tv shows/movies. I will always argue one of the greatest things about fanfiction and other fanworks is being able to see ourselves and our own struggles through our favorite fictional characters.
But Sugarpastels is not a fictional character. She’s a real person. Most importantly (to me at least) she’s my little sister, and this big sister cannot handle watching some of her readers expect more of her than is appropriate.
So I’m asking you to please be mindful of what you ask/say to not just her, but literally everyone on the internet. Unless you’re chatting with someone regularly, they do not know you. Whether it’s friends, family, teachers, coaches, etc, there are people in your life who know you personally, and are therefore better equipped to help you than a stranger on the internet.
Sugarpastels is so full of empathy that it’s hard to not feel for you when you send things like this. But it just isn’t fair to put that kind of unnecessary pressure on someone who is, at the end of the day, just trying to have some fun writing about ninja turtles bein’ sad.
(That being said, PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED TO SEND HER ASKS AND FAN ART!!! They make her day every single time and are seriously so, so appreciated. She’s texting me about it constantly how much she loves all of TNV’s readers. This whole post is really directed at an extremely small percentage of her readers, but there have been enough I felt something needed to be said.)
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dumplingsfordays · 6 months
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the phone call
pairing - Megumi x fem!reader
genre - smut
summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.
cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge
note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33
art credit!
and as always, thank you for reading :))
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-
Bzzt. Bzzt.
The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.
"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."
Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"
"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."
God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.
"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."
You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-
He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.
God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!
...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.
"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."
"Yeah?"
He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.
"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"
"Ah, no, I'm just..."
Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.
"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."
There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.
"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."
He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"
"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."
You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?
"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."
"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."
His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.
"I'd... I'd love to."
He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.
"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."
You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.
"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."
Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.
"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"
Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--
"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"
He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.
"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"
"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."
You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.
"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."
"What?"
His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.
"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."
"Can we..."
Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.
"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."
"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.
"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.
You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.
"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.
You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.
"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."
You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?
"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."
"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."
His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"
You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.
As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.
"This was... ah, certainly something..."
You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.
"Indeed it was."
"...But we're still going on that date, right?"
Megumi laughs. "Obviously."
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