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#and the duo piece ‘As You Wish’…. GOD……

spamgyu · 4 months

Text

BACKBURNER // PART 2

DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff PART 1 | MASTERLIST

She wished she could go back and listened to her friend when he had warned her starting something with him was a bad idea.

Y/n could remember that day so clearly — even more now that she spent a lot of her free time alone with her thoughts.

It was going so well, three months into dating Seungcheol and not a single red flag in sight. Things were looking up.

Maybe he wasn't the toxic man she had come to know of when they were in school.

It was all going so well.

He had invited her over to his place, wanting to cook her dinner.

"Wanted to do something cute." He explained. Y/n happily made her way over to his place, thinking that he was finally going to ask her the big question.

To be his girlfriend.

They spent most of the time giggling like high school lovers as they worked around each other in the kitchen; Seungcheol stealing kisses each time he caught her looking over at him.

Which was more than she could count on one hand — but she wasn't complaining.

They were nearly done. Just needed to plate their meal when the rug under her was pulled, sending her right back down to earth.

His phone hadn't even completed ringing when he picked it up, his demeanor instantly changing.

"Sunhee's flight came in a few hours early. Rain check on dinner?" He flashed her his dimply smile.

What was she supposed to do? Say no? Not with that smile.

Y/n agreed, allowing him to usher her out of his place; not without a kiss of course.

With an empty stomach and a freed up Friday night, she made her way to her favorite duo's place — in hopes that the two were not out terrorizing local single women at the club.

"He called off date night? For Sunhee?" Mingyu snorted as she picked off of his plate. "Can't you go and make yourself a plate? There's literally enough food for both of us."

She shook her head, grabbing another piece of chicken only for her to drop it as his hand lightly smacked hers. "She didn't have a ride."

God, could she be any more oblivious.

"Uber? Lyft?" He listed in bewilderment.

Y/n shrugged. "You'd do it for me."

She didn't care if he had a girl best friend. To most, this was a nightmare. It would have been the first big red flag to any other girl.

But Y/n knew she couldn't complain. Not when she was the first person Mingyu would call to tell her about the latest girl he was dating, the person he asked for outfit approvals, the person she called when she had any car problems. They were each other's person. Even if they bickered like their lives depended on it.

No, she couldn't be a hypocrite.

"Pick you up at the airport? During rush hour? You wish. I'd only do that for someone I love.... even then I'd reconsider it." He chewed.

"They're best friends." She defended, tapping her finger on the table to make a point.

"Who's in love with each other." Mingyu replied matter of factly, copying her actions.

As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No they don't."

"May I remind you that last week he didn't make it to your little breakfast date because she didn't feel well. She." He emphasized. "You would have to be dying for me to cancel on someone I was dating."

Y/n had almost forgotten about the incident. She and Seungcheol had made plans to try out a new cafe by his place only for him to cancel at the very last minute.

She paid no mind to this, knowing that he and Sunhee were close and she had no family in the city to be at her aid.

Little did she know at the time was that Sunhee simply had a hangover and Seungcheol had gone over to nurse her back to health.

"It's been three months and not a single title has been established. He's a red flag, Y/n. Back out now before you get even more attached." Mingyu stood from his seat, walking over to the stove where the rest of his meal was cooling — scooping extra servings for him and y/n. "You want more rice?"

"No, just chicken." She shook her head. "He's just being a good friend."

"I give it another month before he makes you cry." He sat back down, this time placing the plate in-front of her.

He was right.

Within a month, Seungcheol began giving Y/n mixed signals — one minute he was telling her how he couldn't believe he had managed to score a chance with her and the next he was leaving her on delivered for hours on end.

Only for her to find out he had been pre-occupied with Sunhee through their instagram stories.

But see, Seungcheol had done it so slowly and Y/n didn't realize that she had been put on the backburner until it was too late.

She was far in too deep when she had come to realize that she would never measure up to the girl.

She had been attached, falling deeper and deeper as each day passed.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"Are you done?" Mingyu whined from across the table.

She had taken and retaken the same picture of their meal for the past minute, unable to find the right angle.

"It doesn't look like a date!" Y/n groaned. "You know for someone who came up with this brilliant idea, you're shit at making it believable."

When he had told her he was going to be picking her up to get lunch, this was not what y/n had imagined. She thought he would have at least chosen a much cuter place that was worth pulling her phone out for.

But what would have expected from the Kim Mingyu.

She nearly strangled him as they pulled up to the usual spot they would gab a bite from. After much convincing, and the offer of a free meal on him, she exited the car and followed him into the establishment.

Picking up his chopsticks to pick at the meat that was beginning to brown on the grill, Mingyu let out a small chuckle. "He won't believe it if I took you to something fancy."

Y/n rolled her eyes, leaning back against her chair as she watched him stuff his face. "This is so romantic." She deadpanned.

"Fine, here." He sat up, placing an elbow on the table and a smirk on his face.

He was posing.

She had seen enough stories from girls he had dated to know it was his signature look.

"The fuck am I supposed to do with that."

"Just take the damn picture."

Picking up her phone with a sigh, she angled her phone just enough to capture their meal and him – cutting it off right where his neck began. It was discreet enough to get people wondering, but also obvious enough for him to know who she was with.

She didn't want to post his face just yet.

"Next date better be something good and not barbecue."

"Relax, we gotta do it slowly." He shoveled a spoonful of rice into his mouth, wincing at the sight of him talk while his cheeks were full of food. "Date here and there and then Hawaii– that's when we'll become so insufferable he'll want to kill me."

Hawaii.

In about two weeks, she and the whole gang were headed off to the tropics for one of their college friend's destination wedding.

Of course it would be a destination wedding. It was Jeonghan.

He couldn't just have picked a local venue.

It was going to be a week full festivities, the group wanting to take advantage of all the island had to offer before they watched their close friend walk down the aisle.

Might as well.

Everyone was going to be there. Including her.

"Speaking of," Mingyu continued. "Switch rooms with Minghao."

Looking up from her phone, she raised a brow at him.

"Do you even want to do this? Why are you so dumb?"

"Hey!"

Rubbing his face and groaning in frustration, he spoke slowly. "Minghao's rooming with me, meaning you will now room with me. Seungcheol will see. He will get jealous. Is your pea brain picking up on this?"

Jeonghan and his future wife had thankfully blocked off a floor at the hotel for those traveling for his big day, allowing all his friends to be within close proximity to each other.

She had initially booked a room all by herself after waiting weeks for Seungcheol to bring it up when they had all received their invites in the mail.

But he never did.

In fact, he had told her he was rooming with one of his high school friends who had not seen in a while.

She couldn't even bring herself to be disappointed, a part of her fully expecting he wasn't going to make the suggestion.

He had seen the disappointed look on her face that day, reassuring her that he may end up in her room every night anyways.

"Just want to hang out with Jihoon, haven't seen him in years." He reasoned, placing a kiss on her temple.

What a fucking liar.

"If we're going to do this, you have to be nicer to me.".

"Whatever you say, stink." He winked.

"Stink?" Y/n made a face.

"Short for stink bug."

It was a nickname he had given her in middle school, claiming that she looked a like a stink bug.... and smelled like one too. Y/n hated the nickname at the time, nearly crying each time he would call her this in front of the boys in their class.

It was better than baby.

"We'll work on pet names later." She laughed.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Their fake dates have gained attention from everyone but him.

The rest of their friend group had managed to fall for their act after the second cryptic instagram story that the two shared at his apartment.

Unbeknownst to them, they had spent nearly half an hour getting the perfect shot on his couch to make it seem as though they were cuddling – all with the help of Minghao, of course.

"This isn't gong to work. You guys look so stiff." He laughed as he watched the two make a face as they intertwined their legs, pretending as though they were cuddling as they watched a movie. "Scoot closer, Mingyu."

"If I scoot any closer, my skin will merge into hers." He snapped, following directions.

"Oh my god, just do it." She cried, her arms growing numb with the multiple attempts of snapping the picture.

Seungkwan was the first one to swipe up on the story, instantly noticing the familiar console in the picture; replying "??????".

Soon her inbox was flooded with the rest of the group's reactions; even more when Mingyu posted his version of the same pose.

All except him, who didn't even bother watching the stories.

"Switch seats with me." Y/n whispered loudly to Minghao as they waited to board their plane.

"I already switched rooms, you want me to–"

"I'm sitting next to him."

They had booked their flight together; at the time when she hadn't been able to foresee the future.

Y/n was originally going to go through with sitting through the flight next to Seungcheol, wanting to get under his skin after spending the past two weeks and a half posting of nothing but about her and Mingyu. But considering he had yet to even see a single one of these post that was directed to him, and not a single text, she didn't think she could sit a four hour flight in silence.

Not while Sunhee sat to his right.

Taking the boarding pass from her hand and handing her his, Minghao let out a defeated sigh. "I feel like I'm doing as much work in this stupid shit as you two."

They had disclosed their plans to him, and only him. They knew if it had to be believable, they need someone on their side who was able to corroberate their stories – just in case someone had doubts.

"Love you!" She smiled, reaching over to pinch his cheeks.

"You better." He grumbled.

It wasn't long before they were called to board.

Y/n palms were sweating at the thought of walking past him as she would make her way a few rows back to her newly assigned seat; but she had to keep her composure. Just as she had while they were all sat at the gate – pretending she didn't care that Sunhee wasn't giggling a little too loud at whatever Seungcheol was saying.

Or the fact that he had pushed her carry on all the way from TSA to their designated waiting area while she happily walked alongside him.

She had to keep her head up high.

He had already been sitting in his seat when he caught her eyes from the line of passengers who were all patiently waiting to put their belongings in their overhead compartments.

She was two steps away when he stood from his seat, motioning Sunhee to do the same, to make room for y/n to squeeze in to her spot by the window.

"Thanks." Minghao smiled, shimmying past the two; paying no mind to the confused look on his friend's face.

With furrowed brows, Seungcheol followed her movement – up until Mingyu grabbed the rolling bag from her hand.

"I got it." He lifted the bag with ease, sparing no glance to the eyes that burned a hole in the back of his head.

Once she was no longer in his eyeline, y/n let out a breath of relief – buckling herself in.

"High five." Mingyu held his hand up, proud of her.

"Gyu please, not now." She shook her head, attempting to slow down the beat of her heart.

His head tilted to the side as he watched the girl's emotion's spiral from nervousness to a near panic attack.

"Cheol?" He asked.

"I wish." Her legs bounced as the last few passengers took their seats and the flight attendants made their rounds; her lips growing pale as each second passed.

Mingyu watched as she shifted in her seat for the third time since sitting, adjusting her belt tighter as she felt the plane slowly taxi on to the runway. "Still?" He asked in disbelief, eyeing her knuckles that had turned white from gripping the arm rest.

Y/n simply nodded, closing her eyes.

She had always been a nervous flyer, despite the countless times people have explained the physics of a plane. To y/n it didn't seem logical, how was it that a flying bus could easily travel from point a to point b? All with nothing but a fan for an engine and wings that didn't flap.

It didn't make sense. And don't even get her started with turbulances.

The low hum of the plane had began to grow into a loud roaring sound; she could practically feel her heart sinking deep into the pit of her stomach as she waited for it to gain speed.

Y/n's mind was instantly distracted when she felt his pinky slowly interlock with hers. She opened her eyes to look over at him, but his eyes was closed and fully locked in to whatever music that was blaring on his headphones.

Grateful for his attempts to comfort her, she relaxed under his touch – feeling his hand slip under hers to interlock hands once the plane was at full speed, giving it a squeeze when the plane reached the end of the runway.

It was only a matter of minutes before they were in the air, nervously watching the buildings grow smaller and smaller as the ascended past the clouds.

All thoughts of free falling began to plague her mind again.

"Stop that." He reached over to shut her window with his free hand, pointing to her personal tv. "Watch. Don't look out."

Time passed quickly all thanks to Mingyu's annoying voice that had kept her distracted, talking over the movie he had suggested for her to watch – pausing almost every five minutes to listen to him either comment on the scene or babble on and on about a random picture from his camera roll.

She had given up halfway through the movie, opting to sleep instead. But Mingyu wasn't letting up; he had thought if she sat in silence, she would manage to come up with all the worst case scenarios possible.

He would have much rather waste his breathe talking her ear off than have to comfort her while she sobbed in her seat.

He had been traumatized the last time their family took a trip together to Japan; the first time he had seen a different side of her. She had always been the braver one between the two, an adrenaline junkie who seeked thrill rides and any activity that would have him cowering in an instant.

They were fifteen at the time and since then, he swore he would rather eat dirt before he relieved that same moment again.

Just as he had comforted her during take off, Mingyu took her hand in his as they made their descend down – still babbling on and on about god knows what.

"See not bad." He grinned as they felt their plane come to a complete stop.

The humid air instantly engulfed them as they stepped out of the automatic doors of the airport, each making a comment about how glad they were that they chose to dress lightly.

The boys were all like children let loose in a candy shop, gawking over the Jeep Wranglers at the rental lot – Seokmin and Mingyu instantly bickering over who would get the last black two door.

"Boys." A voice next to her giggled.

It was Sunhee.

While the guys loudly made arrangements on who would be getting which vehicle and who would be riding with who, Sunhee and Y/n stood back and watched.

"They're... something." Y/n forced out a laugh.

The thing was, she couldn't bring herself to hate the girl.

As much as she hated that she was the reason for the pain that Seungcheol had put her through, y/n knew that Sunhee wasn't the problem.

In fact, Sunhee had attempted to distance herself from Seungcheol at one point when she had found out he was dating her; but of course, he didn't have any of it. Y/n was in the other room when he had called Sunhee, saying that he and y/n were just casually dating and didn't care feel at all threatened by Sunhee.

It wasn't a lie. But it sure did hurt.

"Stink!" Mingyu called out from black Jeep, motioning for her to head over. "Come on!"

He had won the rock, paper, scissors against Seokmin.

Fighting back the urge to send him the middle finger, Y/n smiled at him and turned to Sunhee. "I'll see you at the hotel."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"When'd you get that?"

Y/n turned away from her suitcase, halting her search for her white oversize linen button down, she followed his finger to the red fine line tattoo that read "lucky" at her hip.

Once they had all arrived at the hotel, the group wasted no time making plans to bound for the beach; agreeing to head up to their respective rooms to quickly change out of their airport loungewear to a much more appropriate attire.

Mingyu and Y/n have seen each other countless of times in their swimsuits, not bothering to bat an eye as they gathered all their belongings half naked.

"About four months ago." Y/n went back to practically tossing all her belongings on her bed.

Thankfully the room that they shared was a double queen, having it originally been Minghao and Mingyu's sleeping arrangement. She was able to make her own mess on her side without Mingyu's complaint about making the whole place look like a teenager's room.

He had been the clean one between the two.

"Nice." He nodded slipping a plain white shirt on. "Ready?"

"I can't find my shirt." She exhasperated.

"We're going down to the beach. Just go like that." He said, addressing her current outfit.

Which was just her swimwear and light washed cut off shorts that she had folded down to rest right at her hips. Something she had seen from pinterest when she was taking inspiration for her outfits for the trip.

"But I want to look cute." She pouted.

Aside from having to pretend like she was dating him, she still wanted to take document the trip and all her outfits.

She had an instagram feed to keep up, after all.

Rolling his eyes, he dug into his own suitcase – tossing her his crocheted short sleeve button down. "Come on, we're missing prime acting time." He clapped. "Need to annoyingly apply sunscreen on you and pretend to drag you into the water."

"Oh my god." She groaned.

When he said they were going to be insufferable, she didn't think he would jump right into it – dreading the fake laughs and giggles she would have to muster up the minute they stepped foot out of their room.

Grabbing her tote off the bed, Y/n put on her best smile and walked over to him. "Ready, bug?"

"Let the games begin, stink." He winked, slinging his arms over her shoulder – the two cracking up in an instant.

This was going to be a long week.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

They're act was in full force.

Mingyu wasn't lying when he said he would apply suncreen on her once they reached the sand, annoyingly taking his time as he reached her lower back.

He was also not lying when he said he would pretend to drag her in the water, throwing her over his shoulder as he bounded for the shoreline, only to set her down once he was ankle deep.

"Is he looking?" He asked, keeping one arm around her waist.

Discreetly peering over his shoulder, thankful that he was nearly a foot taller than her, y/n nodded.

Seungcheol was sat on his towel, watching the two with the same look he had been giving when they were at Seokmin's.

"Okay, we'll I'm gonna go play." Mingyu satisfied with his short acting career, nodding over to Hansol and Chan who was calling out for him at the deep end. "You're good for a few minutes?"

"Yeah I'm going to nap." She nodded, heading back up to where the other half of the group was lounging – not before she felt him give her hip a squeeze.

"For plot." He winked.

"Gross."

"You and Mingyu, huh?" Jeonghan wiggled his brows as she took a seat next to him, pulling her sunglasses back down to cover her eyes.

Along with Seungcheol, Jeonghan had managed to catch a glimpse of the two shamelessly flirting by the water.

He had bought their oscar worthy performance.

"Yeah." She replied shyly. "It kind of just happened."

They had yet to come up with how it just happened.

"Surprised it didn't happen sooner. Glad you got over this guy over here." Using his thumb to point at Seungcheol who had been shamelessly listening in on their conversation. Just like everyone else in the group, Jeonghan had been filled in on y/n and Seungcheol's weird relationship – despite being cities away.

"He'll just play her." Seungcheol snorted. "It's Mingyu."

The first time she had heard him utter a word to her in weeks.

"Can't be as bad as what you put me through." Y/n replied without missing a beat, laying down to soak up the warm sun.

She fought back the smile that threatened to creep up on her lips, content that she had managed to get in his head.

The plan was working.

"Okay, kids, no fighting this week." Jeonghan laughed nervously.

taglist:

@thepoopdokyeomtouched/ @scuzmunkie / @yunjin0 / @morkswatermelonnnn / @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan / @naturelvrgfstealer

(taglist open - lmk if you want to be added!)

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arieswritez · 5 months

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golden boy

golden boy | yandere stepbrother!mark grayson x afab!reader

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!! pseudo-incest, panty thief!mark, roofies, victim blaming, non-con video taping, voyeurism, rape, reader's anatomy is sexualized, forced breeding, time skip (mark is an adult & nolan never killed the guardians), mark is a sicko you've been warned

about; life was easier when mark was an only child. he wishes it would've stayed that way. (1.9k words)

a/n; an anon asked about a platonic yan sibling duo so i raise you: big pervy step bro who hates your guts but also wants to rearrange them

step brother mark who's used to being the light and joy of the grayson home. as the only child, he's spoiled beyond belief. he's spunky and cute and the graysons love him to death, constantly showering him with love and adoration.

step brother mark who gets a new sibling after villains make you an orphan. nolan finds you in the ruins and it's like he's on auto-pilot: carrying you to that secret hospital and handing you off to the doctors that rush to his aid. . but not before your tiny fist closes in his suit.

as he watches you being taken away, barely alive, something inside his chest pangs.

debbie notices nolan acting strange. he's restless and he's late for dinner, more so than usual. something's very clearly wrong. and it's not like her to grow suspicious of nolan but she does.

nolan's never given her a reason to believe his head may have been turned but for some reason, she starts to believe there might be someone else.

only to find he's been visiting you at the hospital, staying at your bedside for hours on end as you recover. you're in bad shape. doctors aren't sure how you survived. . if you even will. debbie's never seen nolan so torn over a survivor before. he's seen many things: deaths, disasters, you name it. yet, you're who's causing the sleepless nights.

of course, debbie has a kind heart and, soon, it's not just nolan who's worried. the graysons keep tabs on you. and when you come to, they’re the first thing you see.

you look confused, scared, but as nolan soothes you, you offer a meek smile and nolan finds himself feeling that same giddiness he felt when he first saw a tiny mark cradled in debbie's arms.

the graysons become your legal guardians and, suddenly, mark isn't the golden boy anymore.

you take up so much of their attention. now, christmases and birthdays all revolve around you. suddenly, marks good grades and the fact he hit a home run isn't all that impressive. mark's late for his baseball practice and games more times than he can count. . yet they never miss your dance recitals.

you got an A in an absurdly easy class and that was a cause for celebration. in the meantime, mark won a spelling bee & all he got was a 'good job'.

they treat you like you're made of glass, like you'll shatter into a million tiny pieces the second someone so much as looks at you the wrong way. mark still remembers being reprimanded whenever he said the smallest things to you. he doesn't think he's ever lived down that one orphanage joke that made you bawl. god, he was just kidding. . its not his fault you're sensitive.

soon, you're calling his parents 'mom and dad'. and worse of all, they reiterate the fact that you should be calling mark your 'big brother'.

fucking fantastic.

you are everything to them while mark is pushed aside. and it only worsens the older the two of you get. mark gets his powers - there's literally nothing more impressive than that - yet he still has to do a million and one things in order to outshine you. nothing ever works. and despite the fact that mark is - quite literally - saving lives. . your stupid birthday is still more important.

you are the light of their lives and mark bitterly remembers when they used to look at him that way, too.

you are perfect in their eyes. just like he once was.

and mark wishes you would've died in that accident, just like your parent(s).

as you start to develop a sense of self, mark gets into the habit of stealing your clothes. it's the only thing you seem to care about: the way you present yourself to the world.

they're small things at first. like a single shoe when his parents had bought you new ones yet refused to get him the ones he wanted. he'll admit it, it was petty and spiteful. but you were distressed and the graysons seemed upset you'd already misplaced your brand new - expensive - shoes.

at first, he was content with telling himself that what he was doing was solely to spite you. but that was a lie. when his kleptomania made him steal one of your shirts. . it wasn't spite that made him press the material to his nose and pump his cock until he came. no, it wasn't just spite.

all your simpering and whining, following him around like some lost puppy, that one time you asked him why he hated you so much. . it made him feel more than just hate.

he didn't know what to do with you then.

so, at first, he settled with stealing your clothes.

a couple more shirts.

a pair of shorts.

knee-highs or your favorite tights.

and finally, a pair of panties.

his favorite are a lacy pair. sheer and tiny, he recalls lifting them out of your drawer with a finger. . and thinking, seriously? what're these even meant to cover?

he's extremely sure you aren't supposed to have these~

mark is content with secretly stealing your things. he doesn't get in trouble for being mean to you anymore.

you don't think he hates you.

it's a win-win situation, really.

and mark would've been happy - he would've been fine - with the little game he's been playing. soon, the two of you would part ways for college and he'd forget all about you.

he'd forget the way you'd foolishly walk to your room in only a towel when you knew the two of you were home alone.

he'd forget the way you looked when you changed out of clothing, you never truly believed in fully closing the door, did you?

he'd forget the way your moans sounded, when you touched yourself at night, thinking everyone else was asleep. he'd forget the way he'd concentrate on hearing your pretty sounds - and it's not like he'd have to try hard, another perk of having powers.

he'd forget about how he could almost envision you: humping your fingers and biting at your lip, desperately trying to get yourself off. it was like he was in the room with you. . you were so wet he could hear the wet clicks of your cunt.

he'd forget all about you.

you, you, you.

he was sure of it.

but if it's one thing about you is that you could never just let things be.

you could never just let the graysons be a normal, happy family.

and you could never just let mark forget about you.

because the first time his parents say no to you - the very first fucking time - you don't listen.

you're just not used to it.

that stupid party you weren't supposed to go to.

that stupid party mark sneaks off to, too.

and when you see him there, you're surprised.

he pretends to be, too.

because it's not fair if only one of you was forbidden to go. no, you had to fuck it up for the both of them.

it's a good thing you're so spoiled, though. and it's even better that mark eavesdropped on the conversation you had with your friend, the one in which you planned to sneak out.

you're so fucking naive. so stupid.

you think the two of you are finally getting along when he gets you a drink and whispers, don't worry, i won't tell if you don't. and you laugh and wink at him like you'll keep his secret, drinking from whatever concoction he's prepared for you.

you were too young when your parent(s) passed and the graysons never seemed to sit you down for the talk. . or maybe they did and you were just too stupid to understand why you should never accept an open drink.

it's easy to blame it on you being a lightweight. the way you sway and slur your words, the way you stumble into him, the way your body overheats.

you've had too much to drink. you're not used to it, is all. he'll take care of you, don't you worry, big brother always does.

first, he's got to lay you down, you poor thing.

he doesn't want you to hurt your pretty little head by falling!

so, he lays you down in the empty room of the house as the party continues downstairs. as you fall to the bed in a heap, you swear you can see the throbbing beat of the music, now muffled behind the closed door.

in the dark room, the moonlight leaking through the pale blue blinds look like drunken undulations, wavering like heat shimmers, yet you can't keep your eyes open long enough to ogle at them. your body doesn't feel like your own, but you're not as nervous as you should be.

mark yanks his shirt off over his head - practiced, ready - and stalks over to your semi-limp body that's nearly hanging off the bed.

it's not hard to undress you, considering you're dressed like some cheap slut. and, honestly, if it wasn't mark that night, he's sure it would've been another dude at the party. the way you're such a fucking tease, he doesn't think anyone would be able to keep their hands off of you for long.

so, really, it's only fair your older brother is the one to get his hands on the goods, first. afterall, he was there to watch them grow.

the little camcorder he took from his parents - the old silver one they used to record all their trips around the world, mark's first steps, your first birthday with them - blinks red, on and off, on and off, as he strips you. he makes sure to capture your body: your bare tits as your chest rises and falls with each panicked breath, the smooth skin of your tummy, then down, between your legs, as he records your sopping cunt taking his fingers.

you mewl and your vision's swimming. and you feel here, there, everywhere, and it's so, so confusing.

you don't know what's happening and it's distressing because you know something is.

your hands weakly try to push at the foreign body on top of you. . inside of you. . but mark is stronger than anyone will ever be and you are far too drugged to do anything about it.

they're gonna be so mad, mark thinks, as he slides into you and tries to keep the camera recording the way your cunt grips him as he feeds his cock inside of you.

they'll be so mad when they find out you've snuck out.

and maybe you'll tell them. . you think something happened. . someone did something to you. . when you try to wash his cum out of your pussy.

maybe you won't. maybe you shouldn't. they'll already be mad at you, best keep quiet about it~

but the graysons will feel even worse in the next few months. . when you start puking your guts out.

and like the perfect parents they are, they'll take you to a doctor. . only for the results to come back positive.

mark may not be a golden boy, anymore.

but in nine months, maybe you'll give him one, instead 💗

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible #invincible x reader #yandere mark grayson #yandere mark grayson x reader #mark is canonically a good brother #& we love him for that!!#but he's a weirdo in my universe <3

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iznsfw · 8 months

Text

Drunken

Loossemble's Son Hyeju x Male Reader Smut

19,012 words

Categories | cheating, longtimecrush!Hyeju, mutual feelings, drunk sex, daddy kink (and daddy issues), fingering, squirting, titfucking, anal, choking

Thank you for commissioning! Researched for the fic, ended up falling in love with Son Hyeju. Please give this a chance and read this for the story, too, and not only the smut. I indulged too much in this.

The relationship Hyeju and OC have is very much inspired by the one Cassy and Rob have in In the Woods by Tana French. Read it, please. Was amazing. The story was also written with someone I'm currently so in love with in mind, but we're not going to talk about that here.

And no, there's never enough daddy kink stories :P

“This is not fair,” the two of you say the very second you step into your shared dorm.

Two papers in two hands of two people that show two scores that aren’t up to par for the two’s standards. You and Hyeju were always meant to be a dynamic duo: peas in a pod in every way possible, and that includes academic success and failure. It’s like there’s a kind of telepathic force between you that sends the other down with you, too. It’s too late to try and cut the connection when you’ve known Hyeju all your life, a wish that’s beyond reality for plenty of the boys at Idalso.

The dorm is clean. Mostly. You’ve done your best to tidy up the pile of clothes at the end of Hyeju’s bunk bed and she’s done the same for the relatively empty bags of chips you haven’t stopped the habit of laying around, but there’s still the telltale signs that if Hyeju isn’t organized, you aren’t either. Printed drafts of your thesis lay crumpled on the floor. Her posters are minutes away from falling off the poorly painted walls. The air-conditioner doesn’t work as well as it did in your freshman year when your rowdiness outdoors—knocking into each other, trying to race to the door and ending up messing up the other’s clothes that were ironed in a rush—isn’t as compensating.

Today, the rowdiness is lost. It gets translated into rough groans that follow you on the way to the dorms.

That’s when you realize it.

You and Hyeju look at each other. Both of your pairs of eyes widen.

“Miss Ha failed your test?” she asks, normally bored pupils widening in disbelief.

“Miss Ha failed my test.”

“No erasure rule?”

“No erasure rule.”

“Oh my god.”

Ball up the paper and shoot it in the air. It adds to the numerous pieces of parchment on the floor. You kick the rest of them in the air while your roommate slumps on her bed and groans.

“Fuck this,” you say, hands on your head. There comes the urge to tear all your hair out and leave it at that damned professor’s door, blood and all, to make her at least feel a miniscule bit of remorse for failing you. You didn’t deserve that. You studied and studied and she still had to implement that stupid rule.

Hyeju catches a wrinkled and crumpled paper globe. Her sui generis lips release a soft sigh. “At least we have thesis confetti,” she says sullenly.

“I’m dropping out,” you declare. You’re surprised at how serious you sound. Normally you’d say it just to get a laugh out of yourself, but now you’re actually considering doing it.

“If you drop out, I’m dropping out, too,” she answers, looking at you spitefully. “And then who’s going to take care of Daniel?”

Think of Daniel. He isn’t your roommate but he’s gotten close with you and Hyeju the past few years. “His inheritance is what’s gonna take care of him. Did you forget he’s rich as shit?”

“Oh, right. How could I forget about him?”

You start picking up the papers of your drafts faster and knocking them harder into the wall. Why are you doing that? Nope, don’t have an answer to that. There’s a fiery rage inside you that Hyeju’s latest sentence is the arsonist of.

“The fuck are you doing?” she asks in amusement. There’s a hint of disgust on her face. “Calm down. What’re you, my dad or something?”

“S-sorry.” You know the whole deal she has with her dad. You have to stop—thus, drop the balls of papyrus from your hand. “It was just… I don’t know why I did that.”

Maybe you do. Can’t be about the test though it’s why you started throwing a thesis tantrum.

“Chill out, dude.” She pats your shoulder and gives you a pouty look. “If you want to play strict dad with me: no, I don’t like Daniel. If I did, I would have sat on his lap and said,” she assumes a high voice and flutters her eyelashes at you, leaning on your side, “‘Let me help you with that, darling. I’ll do the dishes, too! Or maybe you want to put a baby in me while I squeeze the soap on your di—’”

“Stoooop!”

Throw a pillow at her. She dodges it and sticks her tongue out at you. Oh yeah. How could you forget that she plays dodgeball with the friend who’s taken up the topic of your conversation?

Oh god, shouldn’t have reminded yourself that Hyeju and your other friend hang out. You’re feeling weird again.

“Earth to daddy, Earth to daddy,” she says, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Li’l shit, what’s gotten into you?”

You’re feeling something again. It creeps into your heart and tugs at its strings, just like how your roommate loves to tie knots in yours and watch you struggle around trying to walk with them. That’s how it felt when she called you that. It’s not the first time she took on a roleplaying banter with you yet that specific title has you hot.

You need to take a walk. Take a walk to somewhere that doesn’t have you in a place where you could easily pin Son fucking Hyeju to the wall and kiss her till the heat subsides.

Walking is your only exercise. You care not for the gyms and weights—why pressure yourself with those when you could just go for a simple walk? An hour is already sufficient enough to burn the breakfast. Only downside is that you get quite hungry afterwards, and though you don’t care for counting calories either, you’re pretty sure the food you have after your strolls is more than the amount you burned.

Actually, you could think of another downside: Hyeju doesn’t join you. She’s a homebody. A couch potato. A living pillow. She prefers to lounge at the dorm and play games instead of going out. She rarely comes along, which is why you’re guaranteed a few hours of isolation.

When you take into consideration that it isn’t isolation if tentative feelings accompany you, you’re partly glad Hyeju didn’t come along.

“Hey, is that you?”

You smile. There he is. You always pass by the apartments this time, and the old man who owns it is one of the few people you’re fond of. Being friends with a landlord wasn’t on your college bingo card, but you’re glad it happened. He’s kind, has white hair that almost matches the color of the spaces he owns, and a mouth that can simultaneously be like that of a sailor’s and a doting grandfather.

“Hi, mister Kim.”

“Hi there yourself,” he chirps. His smile is bright. Can’t say the same about the flickering bulb back in your dorm. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

Red colors your cheeks. “Hyeju’s not my girlfriend.”

“Never said she was.” He winks.

The explosion of scarlet first starts at your ears. He got you. But it isn’t exactly you to blame—everyone likes to push you and your girl best friend together. The old man knows what he’s doing. He just likes to toy around with you.

“Mister Kim, don’t be like that,” you say. Scratch the back of your neck.

“I’ll be however the hell I want,” he replies, crossing his arms t in a friendly stance. “You two’re always glued to each other.”

“We’re just friends, sir.”

“Just friends my ass. Whenever that girl visits me, she’s always talking about you. It’s like you’re the only thing on her mind.”

That revelation was so out of nowhere, yet you welcome it. You like knowing that Hyeju, the girl you adore, adores you just as much. It’s the mutual feeling of fondness that keeps you breathing.

“T-that doesn’t mean anything,” you say humbly. You’re somewhat right—just because Hyeju hides the truth that she drones on about you doesn’t mean she has a crush on you. You’ve seen and met her exes, and even back then they’re miles more charming than you.

“Wanna bet?”

“I’m broke—”

“No, no. Not in that way.” He shakes his head. “If you and Hyeju actually end up together, I’m letting you live in one of my apartments for free.”

“Mister Kim—”

“Think about it for your old man, will you?”

With that, he shows you a knowing smile and turns his back. Nothing more is said.

Just so it’s clear for everyone who comes across this story of yours: you don’t love Son Hyeju.

Anyone and everyone says the opposite. They treat you and her like famed characters on a popular teen show, pairing you up with each other and tearing off all hesitancy about thinking that they might be going too far.

But now you’re here to make a stand against those falsehoods: contrary to popular belief, Son Hyeju isn’t the love of your life, and although you’ve been friends for so long people’d expect you walked into kindergarten class with your hand in hers, it’s completely platonic between the two of you.

There are no feelings. No speck of a disgusting yearning in your hearts despite the late night stroll you had to take to stop your wistful thoughts. No sir. Hyeju doesn’t love you that way, and neither do you. It’s simple.

Doesn’t seem that simple when you wake up in the dorm with what’s supposed to be a groan that folds itself back down your throat when you see her curled up in the other bed, blankets splayed and curled around her. No makeup on, except for lip balm she smears around her triangle-shaped mouth when they get chapped. No care for how she looks in the air (doesn’t matter when that’s the way you like it, the way she likes it). She lies there with slumber that could only be induced by an unmerciful college.

You’re glad you have her while you’re battered by the same cause of her sleep.

You try to be silent but her eyes open anyway. Her eyes are squinted, and she kind of looks like an emoticon as she pers around. She doesn’t know when or where she is. Grin because neither do you sometimes, but now that you hold that knowledge, you share it with her.

“Earth to Hyeju, Earth to Hyeju.” Echo her words from last night and resound them back to her.

“Earth?” she groans. “Wake me up when Idalso sends me to Mars.”

Yeah, that’s the Hyeju you know. The Hyeju you love.

(Huh? Where did that come from?)

“I’ll go with you. Could use miss Jeong not trying to kill me.”

Hyeju runs a hand through her hair groggily and smiles sweetly. “Maybe she should come along and go through with killing you if you don’t stop ‘forgetting’ to pay me that five thousand.”

“Cute. I’ll pay you later, I promise.” Rise to sling the blinds up, letting light five-thirty a.m. sun spill through the squares. “Catch some breakfast at McDonald’s before class?” you offer. She’s your usual companion in the morning—you’d split the bill (because “you’re broke, and I’m broke,” she said, “it’s only fair we try to stop being poor together”) and have a nice opening meal of egg and chicken nuggets.

“Sweetie, it’s Saturday today,” she reminds you. “Don’t you remember?” She looks up from her phone and smiles at you condescendingly, as if she knew how that friendly nickname causes your system to shut down.

You try not to show it. Try not to make it obvious that you turned your head to hide the fact that you were flustered. The fact that despite being only friends with her your chest still tightens at her casual pet names for you, like what she called you last night as well. It’s what friends do: joke with each other, call them unflattering names one second then sweet ones the next. The dorm has enough fans to keep the air circulated, and the sweat you broke last night is gone. So if that’s that, why do you feel so warm right now?

You wonder if Hyeju also feels the same heat in her stomach when you say, “Grandpa can’t remember things well anymore, darling. You’ve got to cut him some slack.”

“Wow, okay. That’s one way to put it, I guess.”

It’s lucky that it’s still dark enough for your red ears to be invisible. You hate it when you mess up your laid-back persona in front of Hyeju, the one you put up whenever you engage in these playful arguments. “Look,” you say, “do you want to get McDonald’s or not?”

“Can’t. Won’t. Shan’t. Too lazy.”

Your heart sinks. “Fine, I’ll just go to a café then. Still have that thesis to do.”

Hyeju lays back into the bed and shuts her eyes. She’s learned that when there’s a chance to sleep, she should take it. To you, it doesn’t look like she’ll let go of this one, even if rejecting it means eating together with you.

You put on a coat and some shoes, then turn away. Fine, let her be like that. What did you even expect? You can’t be her only priority in life. Sleep, of course, and rest should come first, especially if you’re a college student. You have to brush the hurt creeping in your heart and do your own thing, just like you’d let her do hers.

Don’t catch her eyes opening and lingering on you. Your back is turned and therefore doesn’t let you see it. But if only you did, you wouldn’t have been doubtful about your future concerns, all related to her.

This is a different story though. This isn’t a love story—if anything, it’s how a love story ends.

Just so it’s clear for everyone who comes across this story of yours: you don’t love Son Hyeju.

Yes, it bears repeating. Sometimes you need to say it again to convince yourself. Convince yourself that you’re not constantly in lectures wishing that it was her beside you instead of your groupmate. Convince yourself that your soul doesn’t shatter in pieces when she refuses to join you in anything.

Maybe you just need someone to talk it out with. Yes, that’s right. The whimsical yearning in your heart isn’t for Hyeju. You swear on it.

Oh, but you’ve never been very good at that.

“What’s going on? I came as quick as I could,” says Daniel. Yeah, that’s his name. It’s a common name that sounds foreign and unique, especially since he’s a transfer student who came from the U.S.. He has pale skin and brown eyes that are as kind as he is. You like him—he’s the only one you bother bearing besides Hyeju.

But this isn’t about her. You need to let go of her. What? “Let go of her”? Why do you think about her like you two were actually a thing?

“Nothing. Just… feelings.”

“Something happened?” He sits down and looks around confusedly. “Wait, where’s Hyeju?”

“That’s the thing,” you say as you smile tightly. “She’s what happened.”

Daniel’s not stupid. And even if we say that he was, he’s been your friend for two years. It’s short in comparison to your time with Hyeju, you know, but it remains impressive. You don’t have that many friends besides them. That, of course, eventually led to Hyeju and Daniel becoming friends with each other. That’s the reason for him catching your drift—he knows you like the back of his hand.

You order the third cheapest option on the list: an iced latte. Your friend opts for a croissant and some tea, something that reminds you that he isn’t actually from Korea. You often forget that when his Korean is more fluent than a native’s and he gels with other people so quickly. He’s an easy-going guy with everything flowing well for him.

“Let me guess: she did something?” he asks. Alright, close enough. His fingers drum a steady rhythm on the table while yours do so on your laptop keyboard.

“Yeah.” Shake your head immediately and contradictingly. What are you saying? “No. Yeah, probably. But I think it’s my fault.”

No, it isn’t a mere probability of it being your fault. It is your fault. Why are you placing expectations on Hyeju to show up for you? It isn’t on her that you get hurt when she doesn’t have the time or willpower to come along with you. So, why are you even bothering to talk about this? You should let this matter slide. Brush it under the carpet. Rewrite the news headlines. Whatever.

“Ah, couple’s quarrels,” Daniel says teasingly. He thanks the waiter for his croissant then takes a healthy bite into it. “Out of the honeymoon phase already?”

Should you be delighted that people think that she’s yours and you’re hers? You’re split between these two emotions—choose to be frustrated instead.

“Why does everybody think that we’re a couple?”

“Well.” Your friend twirls his teaspoon into the dainty cup. Drill your eyes on it. The café is simple and affordable to eat from, but the furniture and aesthetic make you think of it as a fancier place to eat it. “You’re always together.”

“That’s all?”

“Let me finish. When some guy has the balls to ask her out, she says she has a boyfriend. She shows him your profile and number. She goes, ‘My boyfriend wouldn’t be too happy about that.’”

The latte somehow doesn’t finish its journey through the straw. “She does?”

You’re split between two thoughts to go by again. You should be happy that your friend, a friend who’s a girl moreover (never confuse a friend who’s a girl with a girlfriend—ever), feels safe enough with you to refer to you as someone who’d protect her, whether from creeps or the aggressive dogs that patrol your college grounds. It takes real trust to call a guy who’s a friend (again, avoid the confusion) your boyfriend when the time requires it. This means she trusts you to come to her if she needs saving from an odd guy or an escape out of situations.

But at the same time, you wonder if that’s what you really are to her, what you’ll only ever be to her: a fake boyfriend. The guy friend who doesn’t mind being called a boyfriend because he knows his low place in her heart. Does Hyeju even look at you as someone who’s not just an acquaintance?

“Yeah,” Daniel says matter-of-factly. “She really likes having you around.”

You don’t need to think about it when you reply, softly: “I do, too.”

The two of you sit in silence you don’t know the source of. Daniel stops eating suddenly. Similarly, all the appetite is lost and you have to put your plastic cup of latte down before you throw it at the wall and ruin the dining experience for everyone else. No, this is your problem. You should deal with it before dragging anyone into it.

“So, why did you call me? What is it about Hyeju?”

Ah, what are you thinking? Daniel shouldn’t even be here. Why did you even call him over? You did and now you don’t know why you suddenly want to throw the contents of your plastic cup into his face. If you give in, you’d be feeding into the delusion that he’s the one standing between you and Hyeju.

That only leads to the second question of the day:

Why do you suddenly hate Daniel? Daniel is a nice guy. He doesn’t even make a move on her or disrespect her.

You don’t like these feelings. It’s causing you to think all sorts of nonsense about everybody else, not excluding Daniel, who hasn’t done anything wrong.

“I…” Sigh. This is the second time you’re finding an escape route so that you could be alone with your feelings. “I have to think about it. I need some time alone.”

“Oh, sure. Sorry about that.”

Hate how more guilt washes over your heart. See here, he doesn’t even protest or say something that might even be right, like tell you how you called him to come over in the first place or how there isn’t a good reason why he should leave. He simply wraps his croissant with a plastic he asked for at the counter and leaves, tea and all.

Great. Now you’re alone, like you usually are and always will be. Attempt to use it as a pro and work on your thesis. Type it all down on a Word document. Wait patiently, as you learned to, as your old laptop stops for the suffering you’ve caused it with the extra storage taken up by assignments. Contact your groupmates. Remind them to do their jobs.

It’s all going so well. That’s when she pulls up to the cafe you’ve been writing at with her hands perched on the wooden surface of your table, with the smirk that doesn’t ever leave without making sure it’s her certified look featured on her lips.

No need to mention names when there's only one girl who could make your world stop spinning.

You can’t stop staring, and it’s not even because she turned up out of nowhere. You’re always in a state of shock when Hyeju is around.

She never allows her hair to be restrained in a tight tail, so there she is with those luscious black locks spilling all over her shoulders. How she manages to look so cool and be the very person everyone wishes to be while having those soft cheeks only the evillest of people wouldn’t pinch you don’t know. Son Hyeju is cool and cute at the same time, somehow balancing those everyday without effort.

But you don’t love her. Just to remind everyone once again. No matter what happens, you have no feelings for her. And that’s that.

"Hey," she says, putting her weight on one arm. Then she curves down her head to peer at your screen. "Whatchu doin'?"

Immediately slam your laptop shut and look at her with annoyed eyes. Oh, why do you even try? You could never despise her. You could pray to god all night and day for you to hate Hyeju, to hate her to the ends of the Earth just to banish these strange feelings, and he wouldn't give in. Crazier and crazier her antics shall get and you'd remain loyal to her.

And that's all because she's a good friend. That's everything there is to it.

Wait. Who are you convincing again?

"Oh, come on. Smile a little, pretty boy." Hyeju places a finger on one edge of your mouth then pulls it upwards. "There you go. Suh-miiile—"

Pretty boy. She called me a pretty boy.

"You p-plan on getting off the table or what?" you say.

People are staring at you and Hyeju but that isn't what's making you blush. What's gotten into you? You can't tell yourself it's because of her simply because it isn't because of her. Hyeju has as much effect on you as a cup of coffee.

(You thrive off caffeine, by the way, but that's not the point.)

"Sure. No. Uh… probably?" She looks up at the ceiling as if she's figuring something out, then clicks her tongue when she does. "Yep, nah."

Groan.

Secretly, confessed only in the deepest corners of your mind, you like people paying attention to you and Hyeju. It’s not much about the attention itself but the way it makes them think that the two of you must be really close. Like, really really close. The kind that makes those who want Hyeju rush to her only to be met in the face with a barrier: you. They can’t have her because you do.

Not in that way, of course, but it still means something. If she has you, nobody else could, and if you have her, more so.

"Son Hyeju,” you say, fighting back the smile on your face as she ruffles your hair, “I swear to god—"

"Oh, please," says Hyeju, leaning forward with narrowed eyes and a wicked smile, "spare me, oppa. Spare me the blasphemy—"

That's enough from her, you think. Your hands dive for her waist. Pull her down onto your lap. Your thighs soften the blow and also play the role of a launch pad as one kick sends Hyeju in the air. More chances to tickle her come along with it. Okay, that bit about the lap was wholly unintentional, and you'll swear to god again for that.

What isn't unintended though is the tickling you do on Hyeju's midriff and arms. It helps that she's so sensitive—soon she's laughing boisterously, struggling in your lap with her head upturned and triangle-shaped mouth letting out unkempt guffaws. She nearly kicks the two of you out of the café seat.

"Dude, you are such a loser, stop!" she laughs, still winding around like a screw on top of you. Laughs alternate between each syllable. "P-people are looking, fffucking quit—"

When that beautiful gummy smile breaks on her face, you don't want to. People can look as much as they like and you wouldn't give a damn. Tickling is Hyeju's punishment, and you'll do it to her anywhere to teach her a lesson.

"Ha, haha, I'm sorry, okay!"

"That's my girl."

You’re not hurt anymore. For a few delicious minutes, you’ll forget you were ever pondering if you like her or not.

Stop completely because you’re easy to convince like that All she needed was that one magic word. Place her on the chair beside you and fold her hands on her lap as if she were a misbehaving child.

"Now behave yourself."

Hyeju rolls her eyes. "And if I don't?" she challenges you.

You raise your fingers in a curled position and direct them threateningly centimeters away from her ticklish spots. She gives up. She can't find a punishment worse than that.

"Why are you here anyway? I thought you didn’t want to come," you say, taking the liberty to open your laptop again. The screen directs you to your assignment tab after you type in your password. Sigh; still five thousand words to go.

"I'm here because I've got nowhere else to be," she answers. She practices her own liberty, too, and sips shamelessly at your iced beverage.

Her eyes light up at the taste. "I got bored being alone in the dorm."

You think of her alone, and your heart immediately sinks. Maybe you should have stayed there. You’re her roommate—you’re there for her to have company. Sure, the roommates were paired up randomly, but it must lead to something now that you and Hyeju have met again. It was by pure chance that she reunited with you after years of being apart. There’s a string drawing you together, and you don’t know what it means.

You do know that the reunion with your childhood best friend and seeing how she’s grown made your heart flutter. You act all mean when you’re around her, which is confusing when you’ve missed her so much.

"And I needed somewhere else to finish this thesis before miss Wong realizes it was due three weeks ago." Glare pointedly at her. Here you go again. Told you so. "Somewhere that's not occupied by a brat."

It's true. Call it what you will: an insult, a pointless accusation, but what you said rings true even in your childhood best friend's defiant mind. She could be a handful often.

"I am not a brat," she says, offended. She knows the truth and chooses to deny it. Typical. You should have seen that coming when she’s the girl who lies about the extra dishes in the sink not being her fault and her turn with the laundry.

Sigh. Act as the lawyer; you’re studying to be one anyway. It’s best to practice. "Remember when you cut up the slogan on the mayo label then taped it on me? I had 'white creamy filling; taste me!' on my back for the whole day!"

"It was a big-ass sticker for a mayonnaise, okay? I couldn't stop myself." Hyeju admits this with hands raised in defeat. "But what about that time you shoved a Toblerone in my mouth while I was sleeping then took a photo of me?"

Raise your hands, too. You realize there's no way to weigh in the blame on a single person when you and Hyeju brought the brat out of each other. It's impossible to go by a day that isn't filled by at least one prank and joking quarrels.

Still, you find it fun. Hyeju's so easy to bond with, so easy to love.

Whoa, where did that suddenly get here? Like you said, you love Hyeju, but only as a friend.

So you do love her, in a way. Huh.

That realization settles in and suddenly you're rendered frozen at the table. Your hands that ought to be finishing your schoolwork are frozen in mid-air. You're staring at the screen like you were watching a gory movie instead of trying to tick off your to-do list.

"You okay?" she asks, one-of-a-kind lips sealed around the paper straw. "You kind of, like, went to another dimension for a bit."

How do you tell her you’re considering the fact that you might actually like her? You’ve known her for years. Something’s inevitably going to bloom inside you for her, right?

"Y-yeah. I'm good." Not. “And stop drinking my coffee.”

“You wouldn’t need it if you just did the thesis early. What’s so hard about it anyway?” Hyeju stands then bends over to glance at your laptop.

You don’t realize how short her dress is. It rides up to the centers of her thighs and you don’t know how to prevent anyone from seeing something forbidden without brushing down the hem of her dress. If you went down that road, you’d have to run your hand along her back and ass—you’d look like a pervert.

Idiot. Think of something. Something that isn’t how you’d love to see more when you're just like everyone and shouldn't be allowed more eye access to her body. Only you know how many times Hyeju’s body came up in your mind when you were alone. Paired up with that attractive face that held a permanent pout, it’s impossible not to think of anything else.

“Ugh! You are so dumb, you know that, oppa?” To your horror, Hyeju sits down neatly on your lap. She has her hands quickly frisking on your keyboard. “There’s a comma missing here, and a citation over here… oh, and a—”

“Save some for the rest of us!” a man about your age and height yells jokingly, cheering you on with a raise of his mug of hot coffee.

Both you and Hyeju look at him with confusion written all over your faces. Your words of surprise almost sync and match with the other for you realize your hands are on her hips, and Hyeju’s leaning back so comfortably in you that anyone would have thought it was another case of couple’s PDA. They’d be wrong though. She’s not your girlfriend. She can’t be your girlfriend.

So why is she so comfortable on top of you, as if she’s always been there? Why did your hands naturally rest on the beautiful slopes of her hips and pull her down the moment she stooped?

The guy’s grandmother smiles adoringly. “Young love,” she says with a dreamy tinge to her aged voice. "What wouldn't I give to experience that again."

You and Hyeju meet each other’s gazes and suddenly you’re unattached to each other. She guiltily settles on her chair and you take your hands off her. That was wrong. Why were the two of you so comfortable with being so touchy? Best friends don’t do that. At least, not best friends of the opposite sex.

“I should go,” she stammers, standing up. “Call me i-if you need help, oppa.”

Just like that, she’s gone. Where did she go? Why did you lose her so fast?

Hyeju’s always called you oppa one way or another, but that moment left a particular jar in your heart. It shards the depths of the core and renders you speechless. You didn’t know that the person you’d love to hear that title the most from is your best friend. She’s supposed to call you that when she’s younger, but even if she weren’t, you’d still love to hear her call you that.

There’s a sense of fulfillment in being able to be Hyeju’s oppa. The one she always relies on. The one she sticks to through whatever happens. That’s why now that she’s told you to call her if you need help makes you ache. It’s the things that are seemingly so simple as that that send more yearning inside you.

The question is: what exactly are you yearning for? Who are you yearning for?

You think you know the answer. It’d take guts to admit it, to finally come clean. But what’s there to come clean about? You don’t love Hyeju.

A ding from your phone just now. You’re nearly finished with the thesis, and it’s lucky that way since it’s from Hyeju. God knows she has ways of distracting you. Her clean moves at the dance she led and her chill yet stern voice when she commands a rowdy classroom steer you away from what you should be doing, like get away from her. Avoid her at all costs. Never tell her what you’re feeling because it’ll only end up badly for everyone involved. You don’t want to hurt Hyeju, and still you remain hopeful to not get yourself hurt, too.

It takes several seconds for courage to tie you down and pick up the phone. It’s a series of texts from her.

HyejU_U: hey

Sooooooooo

I’m sorry for what happened earlier.

I didn’t really think and thought that you'd be fine with it

cause yknow

You pulled me down

and

We’re friends.

right?

Yeah, we’re friends, you think bitterly. And no matter how touchy you get, Son Hyeju, it’s all we’ll ever be to you.

HyejU_U: can we just move forward from it? If you want to ofc

Do you? Graduation is near and it’s still taken plenty of years of your life to get over Hyeju. Do you go forward and start on a new slate with her, or dwell in places you shouldn’t be?

Your fingers linger on the keyboard, then—

You: Sure.

Sorry, too

if i like

Made you feel uncomfortable

Wasnt my intention, i promise

HyejU_U: oh you didnt make me feel uncomfy at all.

So don’t worry <3

What a relief.

HyejU_U: i should be the one apologizing anyway

I thought it would be nice to be on you since ur arms feel good around me

Cock a brow. A giddy smile itches at the ends of your lips. Stifle it you will, though she can’t see you through her screen.

HyejU_U: sorry again

i just wanted to see if what i thought was true

Anyways.

yeah, sorry.

You: so we’re good?

HyejU_U: we have a deal, dickface

;)

See, this is the thing you’re afraid to lose with Hyeju: the carefreeness of your little friendly touches and hugs, insults that take it just far enough, everything. If you told her how you felt (keep in mind that you might not actually like her romantically; you’re just thinking that you might), you’d lose your relationship with her—the one that formed before the two of you even knew what romance was. The one that’s kept the reunion as natural as could be without the need for awkwardness.

You’re so glad to have her back. As a student you’ve nearly cried knowing you passed a semester and worked night and day to finish a difficult assignment—none of those feelings can match the one of relief you felt when Hyeju told you everything was good on both ends.

But for now, you’ve gotta try to put a dent into this thesis. You’re almost done, you swear. You’ve just been stalling—not intentionally. You swear on that, too. Your whole afternoon’s been swamped up in thoughts about her plus the thoughts about if you’re too perverted a man to be with her. There are a lot of questions left by you immediately responding to Hyeju choosing to sit on your lap. A lot of which are left unanswered.

Priorities. Sigh a little; there’s still work to be done, yet worrying about your best friend is on top of the list. You really should find a hobby when you’re already dragging your teammates behind. Plus, there’s the capstone to worry about that you haven’t prepared for even in the most miniscule bit. So there really shouldn’t be an explanation for why thinking about what she thinks of you is your number one priority. Why, you have plenty of other things to worry about.

You just can’t get her off your mind. These days it’s impossible to.

Abstain anyway, the best you can, from thinking about her and finally complete the thesis. It’s lengthy, well-edited, and has the perfect format to finally make you a lawyer. Attorney doesn’t sound too bad when it’s added to the front of your name.

You should celebrate, actually. The moment you think of it, Daniel suddenly messages you. He’s saying something about it being a Saturday, so you should go to the bar with him. You’re a social drinker, anyway. You could go there without going overboard. Addictions and vices form in these years of fresh adulthood, but you’ve never found yourself wound up in something.

So you do. They ask for your IDs and let you in after a short study of the cards. The guard gives you a lengthy lecture about not being alcoholics as young as you are, but welcomes you anyway.

If we’re talking about getting yourself wound up in someone, though…

“Dude,” Daniel says. He motions his glass to someone coming from the door. “Hyeju.”

You already know he’s rich, but what teacher did he pay to study him into mind-reading? “I wasn’t thinking about her,” you tell him defensively.

“No, I mean, she’s here.” He stares at said woman walking over to the bar with swaying hips. “How the fuck did she get here?”

Hyeju’s here? Swallow. Quick. What do you say? Where exactly in the bar is she right now? Why is she here? When did she get here? Why the fuck are you talking like a news reporter?

“Hullo, boys.” She stops your train of thought and makes sure to dedicate all of them to her with her hands set on the table and a pretty crop top attached to the curves on her perfect body. You wonder where she got that dress. If she thrifted it, it isn’t obvious—her body does good work in making it look like couture.

“Hi, Hyeju.” Daniel acknowledges her with a nod. He’s a friend of yours and hers, just to remind everyone. He wouldn’t take another step with Hyeju, but you still have yourself staring daggers into his stubbled beard that lines his face and how he takes life as he would a game. There’s a reason why you’re the least tipsy among the two of you. He likes a challenge.

“Hi,” you say meekly. Hope your voice doesn’t sound twisted when your stomach suddenly is. Oh, and it’s not because of Hyeju. It’s the alcohol, pinky promise with a finger heart after. Alcohol’s never made your stomach turn this way though.

Hyeju regards the shotglasses. “You went drinking without me?”

“What does it look like?” Daniel asks, giving her the finger. It’s just the usual friendly argument that doesn’t cross lines or anything. The ones that you and Hyeju have. Why do you feel like punching him in the face?

Luckily, she doesn’t have a fragile heart. “Cute. Keep it that way.” She rolls her eyes then turns to you. “Oh, and you. I thought you liked having me around.”

“I’m sorry.” Ask the bartender for another shot then hand it to her. “I guess we just thought you were busy with training.”

She’s training to become an idol. It’s been her dream since she was a kid, when you played in the slides and dropped from monkey bars. She’s always told you she was going to be big someday, and you never doubted that for a second. She even had a name she planned to use if she were to be a performer: Olivia Hye. You weren’t gonna lie, it had a nice ring to it. Not too bad for a name she made up after skimming through a baby name book from the bookstore.

“I dropped out,” she says simply, downing the shot like water.

“What?” you and Daniel ask together. Both of your voices sync with the shock, too. Neither of you could get why she did that. It’s been Hyeju’s dream to become an idol for so long. She couldn’t give that up just like that, but she did.

“Yep.” There’s pride in her voice. “The whole thing was a shithole. I already have Idalso to deal with. I’m not gonna put up with that, fuck no.”

Your heart aches for her dream. Idalso University really is blocking her from achieving it. She could be out there on the stage, maybe having found a better agency, singing and dancing her heart out. Instead, she has to choose one problem at the time and hence goes with college. She has her own parents to please, and because you have yours, you get it. You truly do.

As for Hyeju getting a problem off her mind, like that terrible agency, your spirits lift. You raise a glass and clink it with hers.

“To getting the hell out of this shithole,” you say; look at the girl you’ve lived for and loved with a smile, “and Son fucking Hyeju for doing it again.”

Your glasses meet. You’re somehow happy that it’s only two, yours and hers, that join. You can’t explain it for the life of you, but you like seeing Daniel become like a background character to it all. Just another extra in Hyeju’s show and yours. It’s cruel, especially when he’s been nothing but a good friend, but it is what it is.

“Tell you what,” Daniel says. “Let’s go to a noraebang tomorrow.”

She’s contemplative. “Isn’t the one near Idalso… like, expensive?”

“So what?” He shrugs. “You did it, Hyeju. You got out of that company thing. I’m done with my capstone and so is he with his thesis. I say we all have some fun. On me.”

Daniel has the privilege of not worrying about things being expensive or not. It’s the norm for him. You kind of want him to play Dorothy and put himself in your shoes, then make him go through what you did.

You know it isn’t fair and he’s just being kind. Still and all, your hatred rises.

“What now?” Daniel asks. “You guys in!”

“Of course!” Hyeju nods and claps her hands together. There’s a gummy smile on her face again. You’ve seen it on her many times, but you’ve also seen the sunset everyday—therefore, you’ll still be glad to catch a glimpse of it.

You guess since she’s in, you have to go, too. You say yes and that of course you’d love to go, and this time three glasses clink together prettily. Smiles are on each of your faces albeit yours is artificial.

"Could you act any less like a deadbeat dad?" Hyeju asks. She sits down on the stool beside you after Daniel leaves to get some air. Still feels like he's here when you feel like everyone's eyes are on you and her.

"I'm not doing anything." You say that because you aren't. You definitely aren't stirring a brew of jealousy inside you that poisons the maker, too. You're its creator yet the prophecy that was written tells that it'll turn against you, too. You’re Kronos, and it's an inevitable fate.

"Exactly. That's what deadbeat means." This matter-of-fact statement from her is followed by Hyeju stealing your shotglass out of your hand right before you drink it. "Seriously, dude. What's up with you?"

Oh, you don't know. Maybe her possibly being your crush? It's such an immature matter, but you haven't had a crush like this. The others were just sweet-faced and from afar. Those are the girls you dream of. To have a girl like Hyeju, the one you've known since forever, with a spunky personality but an opposing pretty face, the one who's been your ride-or-die—it's complicated.

What else could you say to her when the truth is something you'd rather she not hear?

"I'm fine, Hye."

"Are you? You look…" She thinks about it for a while as she studies your hair and poorly combined outfit choices. She slicks your blunt strands back and smiles teasingly. "...sleazy."

"Fuck y—"

"Shhh." She places a finger on your lips. The side of her thigh touches your lap. You're so close that any word you utter won't pass without hitting her. "It's okay. I like it."

You purse your lips. You didn't expect that. She's taken seats on your lap that were uninitiated by you and let you lift her in the air when you hug her. All that and her fingers in your hair are the most surprising.

"You're drunk," you say, although she’s only had a few shots.

Hyeju inches closer to you and holds your chin in place. "I'm sober as the next wolf, sweetie," she tells you. Her next words fail to show her hesitance. "And… and it just so happens that I really, really want to kiss you."

She's joking. She's playing around with your heart. You're not a virgin—you know what girls do. Hyeju doesn't strike you as the type to do that in spite of what’s going on, but you have to be careful. Your heart’s been bruised too many times already.

Careful isn't the word for it when you take the first step and lean in for a kiss. Maybe you're drunk yourself. Dizziness enchants your mind as Hyeju's dreamy lips perfectly pout to the shape of your mouth. Her eyes are closed. It's like she's in a restful dream.

You can’t believe you’re doing it. You’re kissing her. Passionately, too—there’s real determination in the way you hungrily lean forward to devour her lips.

The bar oohs and ahhs, then erupts into a crowd of applause. A few whistles come your way. You can feel Hyeju smile into your mouth.

Proclivities upon proclivities to keep her around you and only you couldn’t stop Monday from coming. You’ve only been to a noraebang once and that was with your family. It excites you to go to one again. However, you’d rather have only Hyeju to come, to be the exclusive member of the club that gets to hear her soft, pretty voice echo in the mic.

She’s really doing a number on you. Daniel’s your friend—sure, he might be out of touch with the local games and experiences, yet he’s still important to you. You can’t be mad at him over a girl who probably doesn’t even think the kiss at the bar was anything special. She hasn’t even talked about it with you and acts like it didn’t happen. Just another boy, just another day. That’s probably how you are to her.

Ouch. Way to go hurting yourself with your own made-up scenarios. As expected from you.

The three of you decide to cut classes. It’s not like you’re in high school anymore. Professors just don’t give a fuck, unless it’s miss Wong. She’s pretty and quiet at first. Then you have to wait to see her get angry—that’s when all hell breaks loose.

No hell on the loose today. Just three little demons from hell called Hyeju, Daniel and yourself down on the loose and down the road to the noraebang. Hyeju’s in a loose black jacket and a plain white tee. You somehow notice that more than Daniel who’s sporting a graphic shirt with swear words from every language printed on it. You don’t have much to say about your attire when it’s nothing special, not even compared to Hyeju, who’s wearing simple clothes like you.

“If a teacher sees us out here—” says Daniel nervously. He’s never rebelled before. The most he’s done is missing a class.

“No one will,” Hyeju promises him, opening the door of the place for the two of you though in your opinion it should be the other way around: you opening the door for her. What better way to show Hyeju that you could be a gentleman? Too late now. Plus, she doesn’t care much for that. That’s what keeps your excitement on a low burn. It takes more than opening a door and waiting around to impress Hyeju.

You sign your names at the front. Daniel picks a nice, wide room with a glass table perfect for chips and bottles. The bright screen already shows snippets of K-pop music videos, involving sweet-faced Korean girls waving at the camera and running along a beach. As boyish Hyeju is compared to other girls, you could definitely see her doing that for her passion of becoming an idol.

“What should we sing?” asks Hyeju, sitting down on the black plush seats comfortably. Her gummy smile is precious.

“Anything you want.” He slings an arm around her. His looped arm tugs her into a warm embrace. “Anything for the soon-to-be lawyer slash K-pop idol.”

Stiffen. Turn away and suddenly take good interest in the walls with a carved 3D effect. Much more interesting than whatever Daniel’s trying to pull on your best friend. Right, Hyeju’s your best friend. Nothing more. That kiss was a drunken mistake. You shouldn’t be getting angry. Besides, this noraebang was rented for you to have fun, not glower at Daniel doing nothing but be a good friend.

Hyeju laughs and leans into him gladly. “Stop, you’re gonna make me throw up!”

You feel out of place all of a sudden. Has she always been that affectionate with him? You thought that those touches and hugs were reserved for you only. Apparently not.

“Sing a song, Hye.” Your eyes don’t meet her gaze.

“They wanted me to debut with this song,” she says. The mic is shaky in her hand. “I—” She blushes. “I want to sing it for you.”

Sweetness infiltrates the air. It’s not of a scent or touch, but of hearing. It's Hyeju’s voice. It's smooth and soft as it passes through the empty atmosphere. No instrumental accompanies her voice, and you’re glad it’s that way. It allows you to marvel at Hyeju’s tone, quiet in spite of its sexiness.

And it takes that and several songs later, sung daringly by all of your trio, and jokes passed among friends that make you think about it. Really think about it. While Daniel and she sing their hearts out to the point of their voices cracking and laughs transforming into guffaws, you sit there and submerge yourself in thought.

You’ve seen Hyeju smile. It's pretty and sweet; her triangle-shaped mouth curls up into a half moon and it's everything you've ever wished for in life. No, fuck food. Fuck oxygen. All you need is her smile. It's cheesy as hell when you page through those types of quotes in those teenage romance books you probably shouldn't even be holding, but you swear that if Hyeju smiles for the rest of her life, it's enough for you to live. She just looks so pretty. Her resting bitch face, stone cold as the title of the expression suggests, is hot (yes, you're using that word), but when she chooses to smile—oh, you're as good as dead.

You don't like Son Hyeju though.

You’ve heard her sing in the noraebang room with her soft voice filling the vicinity. She doesn't sing much although she could. The day would come when she’d say "you know, I almost became an idol. I trained then dipped halfway,” and the pitched raspiness of her voice still would send you to heaven. It's a natural and beautiful thing, a trait she couldn't learn from the best vocal coach.

You don't like Son Hyeju though.

You’ve felt her hair when she leaned into your lap after laughing too much. "Stop, or I swear to god I will fuck your shit up," she told you, slapping your thigh after your terrible dad joke. You ran your fingers through her hair to calm her, but if anything it's an excuse to just touch her. You want to touch Hyeju, and not even in a sexual way. You just want your bodies closed up on each other with no awkwardness barriering the freedom to hold and be held.

And it’s not the kiss, but all these that make you stop your denial, and discover that you—

“—think I like Hye,” you whisper to Daniel when said girl leaves to get some beer. The flashing disco lights hanging from the ceiling can’t camouflage the red on your face.

Daniel laughs and puts down the mic. The bump on the crafted table sends a tinged pitch of feedback to your ears. “Everyone likes her. So?”

He’s right. Everyone likes Hyeju. Yeah, they like her through every name she’s taken up. She was the star of the school back in middle school when she went as Hyejoo, then the ice princess of high school as Olivia Hye, and finally… as herself now that she’s grown up with you, Son Hyeju. She’s become so many versions of herself and yet people still like the real her. You still know the real her.

“No,” is what you say, as you twiddle your fingers. You don’t know how to say this without causing an uproar. “I like Hyeju.”

He considers this for a moment, weighing in your words. “Like as in… like like?”

A nervous swallow. Is Daniel the right person to tell this ? “Like like,” you reply nevertheless.

Daniel locks his chin between his rough fingers and strokes it thoughtfully. His face is clouded with a feeling you can’t read. “Well, a lot of people do, too. And they wouldn’t blame you for it. She’s—” He looks down at his shoes then back at the noraebang screen. “She’s a pretty girl.”

The understatement of the century. Hyeju’s face was carved with such beauty—curved, pyramid lips; slanted eyes; a cold look that you, unlike people when asked about their first impression of her, weren’t scared of—and she’s just so… easy to love.

Yes, Son Hyeju is easy to love. Everyone loves her, but she can only ever reciprocate it in a different way to one man. Woman, perhaps? Anything goes, but you'd rather she gives it to you.

You're a selfish person, you admit that. More so when it comes to her.

"Let's get this party started!" she says. You don't intend to flinch yet you end up doing it anyway when she sits down next to you and hands you canned alcohol.

"There's only three of us, Hye," Daniel points out. The rounded metal springs up from the can and he gulps down a hefty amount of the spiked liquid.

"Three's a crowd. Especially when it's with you guys."

"So you're saying we're too much?" Match her sass with hidden bits of your own. You're only trying to make it seem like your heart doesn't beg to be held close to hers.

"Too much is just enough for me."

Hyeju drops both of her arms around you and your other friend and ruffles your hair. It's sweet. It should be. It’s exactly that which makes you fail to understand why your heart feels squeezed. Why is she also hugging Daniel in the same manner she hugs you?

The kiss at the bar means nothing. The kiss at the bar means nothing. You have to stop thinking that it means there's a ring on your finger already.

You rise from the sofa to purchase chips because you’re starving, but not for healthy food. You wouldn’t dream of eating a salad when there’s junk food in your general vicinity, and it just so happens that there’s a vending machine you’ve got your eye on at the counter. Soon, a rainbow of plastic bags fills your arms. What they contain would work well to repay your debt with Hyeju. Daniel can eat these without worrying about money. He’s been a good friend. He deserves chips after the evil you’ve thought about him.

"I bought chips—"

Daniel is pushing Hyeju to the end of the sofa and has his lips locked on hers. His hands are in her hair. Her eyes are shut. You can hear the sloppy sounds of kissing bouncing off the noraebang walls. The instrumental from the radio is the cherry on top of everything.

Does this kiss guarantee a ring?

"Wow," you say. Nod then laugh, as if doing it would make your situation better. “Wow.”

Hyeju turns her head and scrambles for broken dignity. It's too late. You've already seen it. Daniel doesn't even bother running after you when she bursts out of the room to chase you. You're immovable—each step is a promise to take you far away. You trust that promise to skewer you away from Son Hyeju, Son fucking Hyeju who led you on and played with your heart.

"Hey.” Her steps catch up with yours. Walk faster, but she only draws closer. You can’t escape from her now. “Hey!”

"What?" Turn to her, heavy breathing lining your shoulders. You stare into her small face and silently dare her to make an excuse.

To your surprise and her audacity, she does. "It's not what it looks like!" she says, swallowing. How could she be the one near tears when she's the one who kissed him? "Let me explain—"

"I know what I saw."

"Well, you don't see the bigger picture. He sm—"

"—smart? Funny? Rich?" Laugh and shake your head. Your laughs sound more and more genuine. You've gone a little sick in the head. "Yeah, I know. But hey, we're not supposed to be anything, right? Why am I mad? It's not like our kiss meant anything."

"Please, oppa. Listen to me."

"No, go sing together,” you say, then thrust the junk food you bought in her arms. “I’m sure you’re better off with him.”

Mean it. Turn away. Don't bother to look at her when you know she'll go crawling back to Daniel. He's totally her type. He's everything, you're nothing. He's smart, you're not. He loves her more, and you do—just not enough. Now you understand why they were so touchy and close in the room.

Anger is irrational when it was just a kiss. The two of you weren't official, either. If you weren't before, you sure as hell aren't now. It's just not meant to be.

She likes Daniel, not you. And even though you want to be, you aren't supposed to be angry at Hyeju. She was swept into a high school love triangle that happened a little later in her life, and ultimately chose the better guy. No need to drop names. The kiss was enough for you to know which man she chose.

Besides, you don't love Son Hyeju anyway. Isn't that what you've always told yourself? That's right. You don't love her.

Denial is a river flowing down your cheek.

The dorm becomes a cemetery of the living dead. You and Hyeju have not spoken to each other for three months. She stops waking you up for class, and you do the same. The place is notably cleaner after the two of you rely only on yourself to tidy up. Lost are the sarcasm, friendly touches, teasing arguments. It’s like the two of you never knew each other.

It’s through this that you discover that you have to be careful what you wish for. You always thought about Daniel putting himself in your place, and it happened. Ever since the kiss, Hyeju’s been chattier with him, and he pulls her close the way you used to, and she smiles at him like she used to at you, except that it’s wider now. They’re together. Officially together; you’ve seen their Instagram posts.

Moreover, she’s happier than ever, flourishing without you.

And you? You’re still stuck in that noraebang, replaying that fateful kiss over and over in your head. Each time you close your eyes you see Hyeju and Daniel in a passionate liplock. It’s the kiss that ruined what you had with Hyeju and has made your quality of life deteriorate. You didn’t know that Hyeju makes up almost every part of your day. Mornings are empty without your stroll with her. Post-exam nights aren’t as fun when she’s not there to bring drinks. Afternoons are lonely when she’s always out with Daniel.

You hate the fucker. He knew you liked Hyeju. You’ve told him about it right before the thing he did with her even happened, so it’s impossible that he’d forget. Besides, like he said, the two of you are always together. He surely would have picked up the signs. Unfortunately, he whisked her away just like that.

You dislike to feel like the scheming guy in coming-of-age films who doesn’t get the girl, but it’s the perfect portrayal of your emotions.

Wake up for class. She does, too. You have the decency to not gawk at how good she looks even in a casual tank top and plaid shorts, but she doesn’t even try to hide that she’s staring at you. Just not for the same reason, you assume. You’re just her boy best friend. With the way things are, you aren’t even a friend to her anymore.

You smear cheese onto a soft slice of bread. Still, her eyes are on you. From the corner of what takes up your vision, you could tell that she’s trying to figure out how to make this less awkward. You’d think that an eternity’s worth of effectively giving each other the cold shoulder would make her learn how to do it. She’s a smart girl anyway. She should have figured that out.

“You know… you can’t just keep ignoring me.”

Freeze—it’s the first time she’s spoken to you in a while. And you weren’t prepared for that. It’s like someone threw a punch in your stomach, but it’s also a breath of fresh air. How those two feelings could converge into each other you don’t know.

“So stop it, will you?” she continues. She swings her legs out of the duvet and places her hands snug on the edge of her bed. “Stop treating me like I’m a…”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m your fucking ex,” Hyeju snarls. The duvet crumples in her fist.

Scoff. Fold the bread slice tight onto the other squared end. Talk about a good morning. “Ex? We were never a thing, Hye… ju.”

Right, it isn’t like that anymore. You can’t call her Hye like the old times.

The hurt that registers on her face, still pretty in the midst of pain, comes by so fast it would take a magnifying glass to see it clearly. Now she’s the one scoffing. She recovers quickly from the stifled nickname so well that you never would have guessed you disarmed her. “That’s the thing. You’re right—we weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. So why are you acting like I’m a ghost?”

“I wonder why,” you say. “Couldn’t be because you kissed me then decided to kiss another guy while I was away. Nope, totally out of the question.”

What happened? It seems like just yesterday the two of you were throwing insults and playfully quarreling with each other like it’s natural. This is a real disagreement here. This can’t be resolved with a smile or hug. You and Hyeju aren’t like that anymore. It’s a thing of the past.

Just like your friendship.

“If you’d just let me explain—”

“You know what? I don’t have time for this. Go with Daniel to class. Have a good life with him. Just call me if you get lost.”

Don’t even try to take a bite out of your cheese sandwich. You leave it on the table. Later, it’ll become stale and cold, similar to your friendship with Hyeju, or whatever kind of fucked up relationship you have.

You storm out of the dorm. You’re glad to get out—you’re already worried about the test later and the night class with miss Wong. Don’t need a situationship to take up your mind either.

The day passes like a car on a rocky, jagged road. It’s difficult to muster a smile to the freshmen the moment you come in to help miss Jeong teach, or work on your test when that argument with her fills your mind rather than equations you should have memorized. The whole day is torture, and you don’t dare wish it on anyone. Not even that asshole Daniel

“What’s up with you today?” people ask you. “You sure you’re alright?” “Where’s Hyeju?”

You don’t answer.

When the night comes, it’s relief for your sore mind and body. That test beat you up and the sun was too cruel to your skin. Even if night classes could last till the brink of dawn, you don’t mind. Take comfort in the fact that it’s only a discussion and nothing more.

Barely listen though. Two a.m. creeps by and you haven’t taken in a thing. Usually miss Wong would have you focused, keeping in mind that she’s strict and merciless, but you’re too tired today. Your bones ache though you didn’t do much walking. They’re only symptoms of heartbreak.

You don’t want to see a doctor. In fact, you want to get worse.

Miss Wong looks up at the clock. “Is it alright if I extend for just five minutes?” she asks. Her pencil skirt struggles to contain her strides on the platform.

A chorus of mixed responses echo in the classroom. Others, the top students in particular who participate in every club you could name, say it’s fine. Some already have excuses to make: they need to work on homework; they have other classes to go to; every excuse existing. You don’t know which side you’re on—you don’t want to come home to another angry night with Hyeju, and at the same time, you can’t be assed to stay.

Then—

Ringing. It’s all you hear. Your classmates’ voices drown out in it. It’s supposed to be soft, but it isn’t anymore when everyone shuts their mouth in alarm. Look here, look there. You don’t know where it’s coming from.

Your hint is the light in your pocket. Fish it out. It’s coming from your phone.

“I thought I told you guys to put your cellphones on mute during class,” Wong says, sighing. Her glare shoots you a warning.

Okay, you’d say sorry to her and put your phone away. Drop the call. Anything. But the first thing you do is wonder:

Why the fuck is Son Hyeju calling you?

Aside from all the tension between you, your natural instinct is to answer. Your next is to ask her, “Hye?”

“Oppa…” comes her voice from your speaker.

Before you could wonder why she’s calling, you notice that Hyeju’s voice is… lonely. Yes, lonely. That’s the word you’d use right away if you’re asked to describe it. No, it can’t be just that. It’s mixed with something else. It’s higher, a little more groggy.

Forget that you were fighting. Forget that she kissed Daniel and broke your heart. She wouldn’t call if it isn’t something even her pride can’t protect. “Hyeju? What’s wrong?”

“I’m lost.”

Those are the two words she utters before breaking into sobs. You’ve never heard or seen Hyeju cry. She likes to treat problems with anger rather than sadness, slicing away at every conflict with groans and cursing professors for low grades. If she’s crying, it must mean something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong.

You’re keenly aware that all eyes and ears are monitoring your moves, but you don’t care. You rise from your seat and start gathering your laptop into your bag. You forget about your notes. Fuck them. Hyeju comes first.

“Where did you go, Hye?” Walk out of the class. If miss Wong has a problem with that, she can tell you about it tomorrow.

Sniffles on her end. Her quiet, low cries break your heart. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I need you, oppa. I have… I have nobody else. Please come and get me.”

“Hyeju—”

“Please,” she whispers. Her voice lowers to a whine. “I’m alone. I’m so alone.”

Tears itch at the bottoms of your eyes. You have to come and get her. Need to forget the fight and silent treatment that ensued. All that means nothing if Hyeju’s in need of your help.

Where the fuck are your keys? Remove them from the loop of your jeans and click the button. In the driveway, your car’s headlights shine. Yep, there it is. You once regretted buying a secondhand car like that. Now that it can get you to Hyeju, you vow to take care of it for life. You’d spend thousands to repair it if it breaks down.

But right now, it’s Hyeju who’s breaking down. She’s all alone somewhere and she needs you. In a way, you need her, too. She’s the one who’s braver to admit it.

You’ve never driven faster in your entire life. All the while you stay on the line with Hyeju. Your grip on the wheel tightens whenever she lets out a hopeless little sob. She’s crying so hard that you want to roll into a ball in the corner and cry, too. You can’t do that. You have to be the stronger one, the one who comes to her like she’s done for you and tells her that everything’s going to be alright.

You make no promises.

Eventually you coax a location out of her and break several speed limits. Ignore the cops that yell at you. They can all go and fuck off. Hyeju needs you. You’re her best friend. It’s what friends do.

“Motherfucker,” you curse, upon seeing that the location she led you to was a club. It’s hidden in the corner of a creepy alley. “Hyeju, are you drunk?”

“Nooooo…” she drawls, giggling through her tears. “Your voice is so nice, oppa. It really makes me feel better. Did’ya know that?”

No time to be flattered. You burst into the club and find her in the midst of flashing lights and crowds of bodies. Your ears ring because of the music. Whose idea was it to hire this DJ? He thinks he’s doing such a good job, too.

Hyeju’s in the center of it all. Her black coat is too big for her, but so is the crowd. When it moves, it drags her along by the toes. She’s… smiling? Wasn’t she crying on the phone just minutes earlier? Maybe she drank more. This can’t be good.

“Hyeju!” Start walking faster.

She sticks her tongue out at you and starts to sprint upon seeing you get close.

You have no time for games. This isn’t even in the least bit funny. What if someone spiked her drink? What if that was the reason she’s acting funny? Worse: what if someone’s planning to take advantage of her? All these concerns bump into each other in your head as you run after her.

A couple of “excuse me”s and “sorry!”s after you quickly squeeze in between dancing people. Drinks spilled on the floor. Anger from two dolled up ladies. (A look to your right and… yep, not only from them.) Disapproval from the DJ who even calls you out. Boos from the crowd. You don’t care about them. You only care about getting Hyeju to safety. She can’t be here in her vulnerable state.

Before she could dash out from your line of vision, you grab her wrist. Seal your grip around it tightly so she can’t escape. “Son Hyeju,” you say, glaring at her. Ever since she stopped crying, she started to play around. This isn’t a game but to her it is. A fun game, to be more precise. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Oooh, you caught…” She burps. Playful giggles spill from her mouth. “... me!” Hyeju gives you a drunken smile and claps for you regardless of her right hand being held into position.

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you here? See? I can ask stupid q-questions, too!”

You whisk her away from the ongoing party and into the cold night air. You’re about to throw your jacket on her when you see that she’s wearing one, too.

People are starting to stare. Pray that no one intervenes, even if they have good intentions. After all, you’re a man with a woman under the influence. They have every right to be concerned, but you hope that just for now they know you wouldn’t dare hurt Hyeju.

The wind blows a breeze that almost knocks you to the floor. You draw Hyeju to yourself to warm her. You can’t risk her catching a cold.

”Let me go, oppa!” Hyeju’s mood goes from sad to drunkenly cheerful to pained. She forces her wrist out from your fist harshly. Your arms no longer wrap her. “You don’t like me anymore, right? And I have a boyfriend!”

Capture her hand again. She can’t escape and run away a second time. You’ve done that too much to know that it’ll send her down into a dizzying spiral. You’re cowards, the both of you—that’s why you flee whenever a problem arises. You don’t know how to deal with it.

That changes now. Get in your vehicle. Pull her in, too. “For your information,” you say, locking her seatbelt in place, “you called me. You asked me to pick you up.”

The car roars to life and speeds down the road. The night barely provides light for you to move along. It’s beautiful nevertheless. Stars peek out from the depths of black. The moon is dim yet reassuring. What fate does it have in store for you? Would you accept it if you knew? How could they all look so serene while you have your drunk crush next to you starting an argument?

“And you’d loooove not to do it, wouldn’t you?” Hyeju’s words suggest that she’s no longer that drunk but the way her words come out like jumbled words in a newspaper crossword tell you otherwise. She leans against the door and crosses her arms. “It was a mistake to call you. You, you fucking hate me.”

Does she really believe that? You may hate Daniel, but you never once hated Hyeju. You’ve only had wistful feelings for her even after she kissed him. You still checked up on her socials and watched her as she ate lunch with him. You remained loyal to her, like a dog following its owner through scoldings.

Yeah, you really are just her dog.

“I don’t hate you, Hye,” you say with conviction. You’re determined to make her believe that. It’s difficult when you’ve never been the type to be good with words.

“Yes, you do! You wouldn’t even let me explain why I kissed Daniel!”

“For fuck’s sake, I was hurt! I didn’t know what to do!”

“Then hear me out for once!”

“Alright.” Your hands slap the wheel, unintentionally bumping the horn and causing Hyeju to cringe. “Go on. Tell me what happened.”

“He was the one who kissed me, the fucking idiot! He kissed me out of the blue and wouldn’t stop!”

Wait.

What?

Daniel, your friend and Hyeju’s, initiated the kiss? Hyeju didn’t want it to happen?

If only you knew, you would have beaten up Daniel a long time ago.

You can’t even speak. You had it all wrong. You can’t believe there was an explanation for everything and you refused to hear it.

Hyeju begins to sob again. Her words circle in the air like an incantation. It’s equally because of the alcohol and her emotions. “I was… talking to him about my training, but then he kissed me.” She wipes her face and laughs humorlessly. “He started making out with me and, a-and I didn’t know how to stop it. It was like I was frozen.”

“You… you didn’t kiss him?” Your tone is broken and incredulous. “He made you do it?”

She looks almost offended. “Why? Why would I ever kiss that bastard?”

“But you’re dating him.”

“I am,” says Hyeju, hands in her hair, “Hah, okay. I'm dating him, yeah, but that’s just because I thought you didn’t like me. I only want one person in the world, and it isn’t Daniel Smith.”

“Hyeju—”

“It’s you, you clueless little shit!” She punches your shoulder and muffles her face into your car pillow. Her next scream is elongated, filled with frustration. When she lifts her face from the pillow, her eyeliner and blush are smeared and wet with teardrops. “It’s you, and I only want you!”

In vino veritas.

The confession is as out of the blue as Daniel’s kiss was. You’re in a state of shock and disbelief—too much information is coming into your brain. You want to punch Daniel in the face for shocking her with an unwanted move. You want to hug Hyeju. You want to tell her that you’re sorry for not hearing her side of the story.

Most importantly, you want to tell her that you want her, too.

It’s too late now. She’s seen you disregard her voice and choose to have a one-track mind. There’s no way she wants you anymore.

“Why the fuck would you ever want me, Hyeju?”

“Because!” She lets out a shivering little sigh. “You don’t treat me like… hlk, like I’m a trophy to show off. You’re my friend. You know how to be mean but you take care of me even if I’m too moody sometimes. Even if I don’t want to come along with you outside because I’m scared I’ll make myself look stupid in front of you. Even if… even if I love too hard but don’t show that I love you most and that sometimes you take care of me more than my dad does and I know it’s wrong to see you that way when I’m with him now but I really want you to take care of me but still kiss me too if I need it and be okay with me calling you names like ‘daddy’ and still being your best friend besides being my boyfriend… but I know it can’t happen anymore and I ruined everything—”

“Hyeju.”

More tears flow down her face. “—and I know you won’t ever love me the same again but I’ll regret forever, long after we graduate, that I never showed that I loved you, that I was a coward—”

“Hyeju,” you say, gently. Pull over at the university parking lot. You have your finger on her mouth, sealing them to stop her droning. She pauses. She doesn’t do it without breaking down. “Please. Don’t tell me you don’t know it. It’s been happening under your nose every single day.”

“What?” she murmurs, eyes glassy as they connect with yours.

“I like you, too.”

Silence. Several beats go by. They’re too lengthy to be fake. The next nuance confirms that:

Talk about relief. Talk about passion. As if she’s forgetting that a sudden kiss was what opened Pandora’s box, Hyeju grabs your face and does exactly that. Again, it has too many things to it that blocks it from being faux. The unique shape of her lips mold onto yours, as if your lips were made to kiss each other all the time. It’s back to the café again, wherein she does something and you subconsciously follow along. Your hands are on her phenomenal waist. And soon you’re unbuckling her seatbelt so she could sit safely on your lap, where she’s supposed to be. Where she belongs.

She drops her touch to your shoulders. She massages them, and you groan delightfully. Now it’s your turn to hold her face and lean in closer. Hyeju’s mouth tastes of sweetness and alcohol. You don’t know how those two tastes could mix together. Hyeju makes it work.

“Oppa, daddy,” she whimpers. She pulls away. The distance is still close to nothing. “Daddy, I love you.”

It’s a sudden nickname, still detached from when she uses it with you jokingly, yet there’s no hesitance here. You know your truth. “I love you, too, Hyeju.”

“Will you take me to bed?” She starts grinding down on your shaft needily. “Please say you will, daddy. Please say you’ll make me happy.”

“You’re drunk. I… I don’t know if I should.”

“‘m not. Maybe. But I’ve wanted it to happen for a long time,” Hyeju says. “I won’t mind, I promise.”

She couldn’t get any more sober with that. So you do what any man would do if they were called daddy by Son Hyeju: lift her out of your car, not caring to check twice if it’s locked, and bring her to bed. Take her coat off—she won’t need it if you’ll make her warm from the inside and out.

Her arms round your neck and her face is buried in your chest. Her words come out in a desperate, needy tone that you haven’t heard from her since the day you met. Who exactly were you to make her this small?

Her daddy, of course.

See, as tough as Hyeju makes herself out to be, she’s still needy. She still has her own problems that haven’t let go of her now that she’s older, like the daddy thing. You only fully understand it now when you lay her on the bed and continue kissing her. Hard. Her moans call out for you. They aren’t merely things to whine if it feels good. It’s not even a matter of want anymore; her shivers and cries indicate of her carnal need for you to do what you will with her.

“Don’t be scared,” she tells you, closing her eyes as you kiss her perfect jawline. “You wanted me for so long, right? Well, I did, too. Do what you want to me. Fuck me, daddy.”

“You talk extremely dirty for someone who’s drunk,” you chuckle.

“Not so drunk anymore. You make me sober.”

“Sweet talker. You’re all bark and no bite.”

Hyeju has no retort to make. Your lips on her gorgeous nipple render her speechless. The cute pink nub is hard, and grows harder at your loving suckles. Her breasts are the perfect size for squeezing. Relish in that fact by squeezing her left breast while dedicating more of your attention to the other, making her become sensitive with each action.

You’d say you have bite, for you do so lightly on her breast. She gasps. “Daddy!” she cries out.

“Fuck, don’t say it like that.” Your cock throbs already. It’s the same feeling you get all those times before, the times you’d get into an argument with Hyeju and she’d call you that.

“What? It’s not my fault you can’t handle me,” she says wittily.

“Don’t try me.”

“What?” She cocks a brow. “Hit too close to home?”

You have to shut her bratty self up. Tug her pants off, sliding them off her silky legs. Her pink panties are a hint to the gentle color of her pussy. Find out about them anyway—push the underwear aside and shove three fingers in her.

“Oh shit.” Hyeju’s squeeze on your digits is instant, like an impulsive reaction.

Think about if Daniel has done this to her before and pick up the pace. You’re fingering her like the walls of her soaked pussy would banish him and let you have her all to yourself. “Son Hyeju,” you growl, “shut the fuck up.”

“W-won’t—ah!”

If you don’t make her quiet, you’ll at least reduce her words to pathetic moans. You’d say you’re successful. Your rapid thrusts send Hyeju’s screams paralleling the night wind with their strength.

You’re surprised again and again at how loud she could get. She’s always so quiet except for the occasional sarcastic remark. She can make no more of those if faced with the relentless fingering you do unto her pussy. They draw out strings of dampness when they withdraw, and fill her right to the knuckles when you go back in. Her hips squirm and you have to place a hand on her thigh to continue.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy!” she screams. Her mouth is open while she sits up to look at what you’re doing to her vulnerable cunt. “It feels so fucking good, don’t stop!”

She looks beautiful. Her shirt is lifted above her breasts, making them bounce madly due to the timing and force of your thrusts. Her eyes could never be more watchful. She can’t believe she actually has you between her legs and fingering her to orgasm.

“Got any comeback for me, Hye?” you ask smugly.

Hyeju nods. Her lips are parted again. Although you haven’t had sex with her except for now, you know what that dropped jaw means: she’s close.

Her walls are impossible to part completely. She’s too damn tight that you bet she’d still be so with one finger. The grip of her slippery, wet cunt is like no other. You reach deep into it and stroke out till you find the place. That’s how Hyeju starts to shiver. She can’t manage it.

“Oh, yeah? What do you have to say now, sweet?” Wrap your lips around her nipple. It’s another one of your unfair advantages over her.

“I-I-I—I can’t!”

The recoil of Hyeju’s tits is amazing. Harshly squeeze the boob you’ve relatively neglected to make sure she can’t get a word out of those pretty lips. Take a further step and smack it, too. She moans in satisfaction. Your harsh squeezes imprint a replica of your hand on her pale skin.

Of course, you don’t forget to keep your fingers going. You change techniques now and then, switching from gentle circling to rapid fire shoving. Whether it’s one or the other, Hyeju’s fuckhole swallows you up. She doesn’t mind which or what; she needs your harshness the most. It’s what counts as a whole.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum! Please make me cum on your fingers, make your babygirl cum… oh—oh, fuck!”

Combined with your thumb nudging her small clit and your digits absolutely destroying her tightness, Hyeju does the unthinkable: she squirts on your hand and on your bed. Liquid gushes on your shirt; it’s so consistent and clear that a new determination is founded within you. It’s to make your unbearably hot best friend cum like she never has.

For the record, it’s the first time you’ve made a girl squirt. You didn’t expect that it would be this satisfying. Seeing Hyeju’s blissful face and the shake of her beautiful legs make your efforts worth it. Watching yourself do it to your best friend and make her feisty, boyish self let out screams and pleas brings increased triumph.

“No, oh god, it’s too much!” Hyeju says this but her legs part more. Her head is tossed back and her moans don’t stop. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t—daddy!”

“Messy little brat.” Rub away at her clit. Feel the spurt of her cum hit your finger. “That’s it, cum for daddy. Keep those pretty thighs open.”

Hyeju mewls at the mixture of degradation and moans. If Daniel had said that to her, she probably would have thrown up in a bucket. When it’s you, on the other hand, everything changes. She wants you to call her every harsh name out there and accompany it with sides of praise. She’ll only feel this good when she’s with you.

Hyeju is anything but obedient. Things change here in the dorm, where her pussy is spread and prone to your touch. Her midriff, soft yet slender, rises over and over. The hose of her wet orgasms still hasn’t stopped.

“Goddammit, you’re squirting so much. Am I that good, hm, Hyeju? Is daddy that good to his pretty little girl?”

“Mmm, mmm, don't— no more, daddy, no more!” Hyeju’s core is already spent, and you haven’t even put your cock in her yet.

Stop. Not before you leave a kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves that you abused. It’s a mark now, something invisible that subtly says to everyone that you got to fuck her. You got to fuck Son Hyeju. You made her cum like never before.

Spit on Hyeju’s center then spread it to her lips and nub. She moans. “You’re so wet, Hye.”

“Whatever.” She’s blushing. “I’ve had better.”

You have to say you’re a little provoked. You know it’s false seeing the smug look on her face and after making her squirt, but who exactly has done her better? Daniel? Definitely not him. The possibility still does well to spur you to jealousy.

“Oh,” you say, smiling tightly, “so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Hyeju gasps happily when she’s pushed to the wall and on her knees. It’s reminiscent of how Daniel did exactly that: pinning her to the wall before kissing her. Your anger brews into a fire just thinking about him.

“Yeah. What’re you gonna do about it?”

Unbuckle your belt. Your jeans join it on the floor as well as your briefs. “I’m gonna clean that dirty mouth of yours.”

“And how are you gonna do that, daddy?” Hyeju pretends not to know what’s coming.

It’s your belief that actions speak louder than words. That’s why when you place your cock in between Hyeju’s lips, it resonates inside her more than your promise to purify her mouth. Logic fails here when dirty sins can’t remove Hyeju’s dirty words. One wrong and another doesn’t make a right. Oh, who cares? This isn’t a class. This isn’t your thesis. You focus only on feeling the softness of her triangular mouth, the wetness of the back of her throat.

Holding your cock by the base, you lead its tip into rubbing every corner of Hyeju’s mouth. Her cheeks make an outline of your girth as you press your head against them. Her jaw becomes slack after you press your dick down to her tongue. You’re technically doing all the work here because you’re fucking her face, but you’d argue that Hyeju contributes just as much with her tearful eyes that are more puppy than wolf.

The shape of her wet orifice leaves ample space for you to rub against everything. Your tip draws a triangle on her lips right before slipping inside. There you keep your word and clean her dirty mouth. Push those naughty words down her throat with immediate thrusts. That way, she can only moan, nothing else. No sass can be heard from her now.

“You’re such a bad girl, Hyeju,” you say. Curl your hand ‘round her messy hair and direct it downwards. She groans, her mouth now upright for yout fuck easier into. “You shouldn’t like having your mouth used like this. You shouldn’t be on your knees for your best friend when your boyfriend’s waiting for you at home.”

Hyeju knows you’re right. She shouldn’t. She isn’t supposed to enjoy having her throat rammed and spread. She shouldn’t be cheating on the man she claims to love. It’s a mistake of hers to be here anyway, underneath another man.

Her second mistake is to like everything the way it is..

Her third is to tongue your shaft like she would a sweet treat. She wants to taste all of you, from your thick tip to the base. She’s not had much to work on with Daniel, but she knew it would be a good time when you sprung out your cock. She makes this worth it—she seals her lips at your base, her nose pressed firmly at the bottom of your tummy, then produces such a harsh suction that the grip you have in her black locks of messy hair tightens. A curse is what you let out besides precum.

“Fuck,” you say. Pull her head closer. Aggressive thrusts fire away. “Didn’t know your pouty little lips could suck dick so well. I bet it’s bulging your throat. Is daddy right about that?”

She tries to nod. Her gags stop her intended action; your thrusts have sped up and are now destroying her tight throat. No space is left for her to breathe when her mouth is stuffed with your length. Even her nostrils can’t take in much air if her nose is pressed that tightly to your stomach.

Place a hand on the wall in order for there to be no aches for her head when you thrust wildly. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe you’re a good girl, especially with that face. Go on, touch yourself. I know you want to.”

Permission is granted by her daddy. Hyeju gives a cry in response then leads her hand between her legs. Letting you fuck her face has made her wet beyond imagination. She doesn’t need to press directly on her pussy when there’s slick all over her thighs. She gathers them all up and places them back in her pussy. She moans as she swirls her digits inside her. Here’s how it works: she has one hand masturbating, and the other on your thigh to caress it and at the same time keep her balance.

Take note of that. “You’re a smart girl, Hyeju. Smart girls shouldn’t be letting their faces get fucked. We can’t have that happen, right?”

You say that yet your actions tell a different story. Your violent pumps into Hyeju’s mouth to use it to the limits are endless. Hyeju’s moaning. She enjoys it more than she should. Of course, you jam those moans, as pretty as they are, down her throat.

Slap your cock on her lips.

“You know what I mean.”

Slip the whole of your length out then in again. Make her brush those luscious lips against every inch.

“We really, really can’t have that happen.”

Caress her cheek. Her eyes are awaiting and obedient. Look down into them and almost feel bad for ruining her, your best friend.

“Daniel might walk in anytime. He’ll be looking for you.”

Your movements are cruel as time goes by. You shouldn’t be treating your best friend like this. You shouldn’t even be having sex with her. All of these ought to stop you in your tracks—you don’t.

“And what will he say when he sees his precious girlfriend on her knees for his best friend?”

Hyeju begins to whine. She doesn’t want him to walk in; she’s enjoying this too much. What she doesn’t want to happen even more is for you not to blow your load inside her warm throat. People can’t have what they want all the time, but she swears she won’t want anything else if you just give her what she wants. That’s for you to absolutely use her. Be cruel to her and it wouldn’t sting.

“He’ll start to think how better you are with me. You’re a bad girl, Hyeju. You know that and you still want me.”

You’re right in every way. She is better with you. You just fuck her better, treat her better, kiss her better. She can’t kiss better the wound she’ll leave in Daniel if he just so happens to walk in. Maybe she could, but she’d put salt on it when he discovers how good you make her feel. It isn’t fair to anybody. To you, the one she accidentally hurt; to Daniel, who was the one (no, make that the two with how he was her last resort and how she gave him false hope); to her, who can’t go without you.

“Let go.”

Nine.

It takes exactly nine strokes in between her folds for her to cum. Drool sheens your girth. Some even drip from her mouth. It’s like she’s in heat; she’s whining as she tries to cum and suck you off at the same time. Hyeju ends up sucking your shaft with desperation, legs quivering and threatening to give away.

“Cum with me, Hyeju,” you command her. Pull out, rather regretfully, but take comfort with how pretty she’d look covered in your cum. Your hand wraps around you and jerks you off. Although it can’t match Hyeju’s mouth or her ass, it’ll do well in shooting your load on her.

Your best friend keeps calling your name squeezed between “daddy”s as she fingers herself to orgasm. She collapses pathetically on the floor, in a pool of sweat and cum. Her shirt and the floor of your shared dorm room are stained. No need to wonder where those white stains come from; the only suspects are you and Hyeju. It’s a partnered crime for her squirt comes out at such a velocity that it rivals your cumshots.

“Take my load, Hyeju, fuck!”

If there’s anything Hyeju isn’t, it’s submissive. It somehow changes when she nods and opens her mouth. You’re introduced to a whole new side of her. Her post-orgasm face is one you hope to admire everyday. Look at the expressions she makes when her eyes are crossed and her tongue is out for you and you have difficulty choosing between the two.

You and Hyeju exchange a tired look. If you’re to be specific, a look is how everything starts. You became friends with her because she was staring at you too long a time in class. You quickly reunited with her in college when you looked to your back to see to whom the familiar voice belonged. It took one quick glance to see that Daniel had kissed her in the noraebang.

Similarly, a look is what causes you to shamelessly throw Hyeju on the bed again. By now her limbs curl into yours like this were a completely natural thing that happened between you, as if she were always being fucked and manhandled like this. Your kisses now are more aggressive, too. They aren’t nervous like earlier, when you still weren't sure if doing this was right. Hyeju responds by engaging in a battle for dominance, pushing forward and pulling the forces connecting you.

You win in the end.

Slam her back down to the mattress. Her anticipation is written clearly in her eyes. “I’m going to ruin you, Son Hyeju,” you say.

She laughs in your face. “Bet.”

Alright. You’ll show her. It’s a friendly bet you’ll take all seriousness in.

Align your dick with her waiting cunt. You shed all attempts to tease her or dive into foreplay. What she needs is your cock inside her, rearranging her insides. If that’s so, you’ll give it to her.

“Oh!” Hyeju gasps. Her pretty eyes are big above her hands covering her face. She never guessed you would feel this good inside her. “You’re so fucking big, daddy. It's, it’s better than I imagined, fffuck.”

Steer all your weight into this thrust specifically. Your tip makes contact with her G-spot and sends her legs shaking. Send her a couple inches further on the mattress. Her godly tits begin another round of bouncing. There’s no other routine you’d love to watch.

Already you've put your hands on her hips. They’re to pull her closer if she gets lost. Again. You have to make sure you won’t lose her this time. This chance was given to you for a reason. You have to keep her here, show her all the love you’ve kept bottled up all these years.

Hyeju squirms a lot. That’s what your grip is for. It’s to keep her on the bed so she can easily receive your pumps. And what a good job she does at receiving them—Hyeju’s hips shiver as they’re subjected to a force her sensitive pussy can’t handle. She’s always going into things she can’t handle. This is no different. Time with Daniel was okay, but you’re a different story. You ensure that she’s always filled to the hilt until she’s bottoming out.

Deeper and deeper you go. Your cock knocks up into her tummy. You curse; it’s hotter than it’s supposed to be. Something as simple as that shouldn’t be so arousing.

“Oh, you like that? You… you like seeing your big cock stuffing my little pussy?” asks Hyeju. Her teeth are parted to let in air she so desperately needs to formulate these words. She knows they’ll turn you on. “I know you do, daddy. Look at your meat ruining my insides. You’re going to cum so much inside me. And I’ll take it all. I’m a good girl. I’ll show you I’m a good girl.”

She leads your hand to her throat and closes your digits around it. Get the message. Squeeze there tight. Her strangled gasp is everything.

“You are, huh?” you say. Your composure is long gone. “Are you always this tight, Hyeju? Are you always this good? Or is it just for daddy?”

There’s something incredibly hot in the way Hyeju gushes and screams for you. Her nipples stand in the air, aroused by the quick penetrating done to her pussy. It seems almost impossible for her to be this wet. Each push of your hips brings forth a gush of wetness that wets the sheets and your joined crotches. Bring out your cock for a second to quickly flick its tip on her clit.

Hyeju gropes her own chest with closed eyes. “Ohhhh, fuck!”

Return to your routine of drilling her. Her whole body reacts violently to your pounding. Moreover, every part of Hyeju’s beautiful body screams to be touched. Her jiggling thighs and breasts, her midriff prone to your thrusts, her face that’s never looked this slutty… where should you start? Your touch is given multiple choices, and you choose all of them. Your hands roam her body and squeeze and feel and grope. In response, she moans. The volume of her acute voice turns up with each, almost like her body has triggers that would draw out louder sounds.

You think of it that way and now Hyeju’s screaming as you propel inside her while keeping a hand on her clit.

“Daddy, o-only you, daddy!” she proclaims in a helpless scream. “No one can make me feel as good as you do, just keep fucking me, don’t stop!”

You’ve got your answer. Smile in satisfaction and, since she’s a good girl and gave the correct response, lean it to worship her breasts. Does slapping them count as worshiping? Hyeju thinks it does—her high groans and yells are enough to be context clues. You marvel at the size of her chest, so subtle with the baggy clothes she wears but now in their full, naked glory before you. It’s impossible for them to be presented to you without a squeeze being done.

“You like my tits, daddy? I’ll let you fuck them all you want, just finish inside me. I’m safe today. Promise, p-pro—”

Bury yourself deep inside her, to the point that your cockhead pushes at her cervix. Fill her up. Hyeju moans happily. She rolls her body up and down. The stimulation seduces you into making (kind of) breeding her a job well done.

“Thank you, daddy.” she sighs. She’s still erotically grinding her hips. It’s karma for overstimulating her a little earlier when your fingers filled her.

“S-stop, Hyeju.”

“Stop? Alright, sure. I think that’s enough now. Daddy doesn’t want to fuck my tits anymore.”

Naughty little brat. She knows just the right words to tick you off and turn you on. It makes you want her to pound her into the bed again so that not even the old mattress can forget that it was the place you and Hyeju fucked.

“I’m just kidding, silly. Sit down! Yes, thank you.”

She flashes you a smile after you do as she says. It’s a rare moment in this session with her that she has the say in what happens. Somehow. It can’t be completely true, not when she’s on her knees again for you. Not when her tongue trails worshipful lines on your cock and draws tight licks on your tip. Shiver. You’re a bit sensitive yourself.

“Now see how good this feels?”

She takes her glorious breasts in her hands and wraps them around your cock. You let out a guttural moan. Hyeju’s tits rival her mouth and pussy. It’s a close competition, with the advantage of softness most of all. Oh, when she starts to move, gliding her supple skin up and down your size, you almost cum on the spot.

Her bosom is a portal to heaven, you swear. Your legs feel light. Your core is hot as your size disappears between her breasts, buried in the soft and safe haven she provides. The friction is so overwhelming that you doubt it could even be a real sensation.

She makes a show of rubbing your tip on her nipple, similar to what you did to her clit. The two of you are sensitive, so you moan in harmony as it happens. After gliding your cock on her large breasts, she goes back to titfucking you.

It’s all a matter of technique. Whenever she presses her chest together, your cock is suffocated with euphoric tenderness. On the other hand, when she simply moves up and down, you’re given the opportunity to grind down at the skin between her pale breasts. Each route leads to an inevitable fate: exploding all over her a second time.

"P-please stop, Hyeju," you say. You can't handle no more and there's so many more things you want to do to her.

"Awh." She pouts. Fat tears risk spilling from her eyes. God, she could be so cute sometimes. "What do you want, daddy? I can be good."

"Turn around."

"Ohhh, I see what you want." Hyeju turns around and spanks herself. Her ass ripples photogenically. "Of course. Of course you want it."

Hyeju can be so many things. A few minutes earlier she was a submissive babygirl for her daddy, and right before that she was a brat. Now, she transforms into a seductress. She doesn't lace or lingerie to become one. She has that fantastic body to do the work for her.

Hyeju starts to dance. Your eyes are trained on her. They never want to see anything else than her swaying her butt with a dancer's grace and charm.

"Giving me a show, huh?"

"Unless daddy wants it already."

"I do."

She squeezes her ass cheek before reaching her pussy. Then, she rubs her wetness on her pink, puckered hole. She lathers some at the inside of the rim, too. She didn't expect to fuck you today, no matter how many times she's dreamed of it, so there's no lubricant around. Hyeju has to make do.

"Oh!" she squeals when you give her a playful smack on the ass. "Impatient. Daddy's impatient. Don't worry, I'll give it to you."

“You did this before?”

“Duh.” Hyeju smiles sweetly, quickly returning to her good girl side. “You ready now, daddy?”

Apparently, it’s a rhetorical question, for Hyeju immediately guides your tip into her backside. You do your part in spreading her cheeks. Both of you moan at the first contact. It’s difficult by itself to insert just your tip through. She’s too tight.

You’re sinking into this long-chased dream. You’ve seen Hyeju walk around the dorm with no shorts on. Sometimes you're able to catch a glimpse of her bare ass when she dresses up in the dark. It’s normal when it’s with you, considering that your friendship transcends time, but she doesn’t know that yearning’s been put in your heart in those moments. You want her. You want Son Hyeju.

And now, she’s submitting herself to you. She’s given you her body, her tits, her pussy. Now she offers you an equally delicious choice: her supple ass that’s bouncy as it finally sits down completely on your lap.

“Good daddies bounce their babygirls on their knees, right? Should’ve known that, dummy. So come on, pound me. It isn’t hard.”

Well, you are. Hyeju’s ass is constricting you yet you enjoy every second of it. Her tight little asshole clings to you as you do as she says. You’d do anything for Hyeju, and that doesn’t exclude engaging in anal sex with her.

Choose a rhythm to go by to enjoy the tightness Hyeju gives you to the fullest. She leans into you and hums quietly, lower lip worried between her teeth and ass steadily rising and resting. The flexes of your thigh also stimulate her needy pussy. Your knee brushes her clit steadily while your cock penetrates her asshole better than any toy could. Better than any boy would.

“Oh, that feels so good, daddy…” Hyeju murmurs. “Keep spreading me like that, yes.”

Just when she thought you’d switch to being gentle, your thrusts become sporadic. She can’t find which timings you’re going by. The calm before the storm, so to say. Hyeju’s whimpers and whines are your thunder, and they soon live up to their name when they grow louder, filling your ears as would the violent downpour of raindrops.

“D-daddy, daddy, oh my god—” Pain partners up with pleasure in wrecking her hole. Darn you for reaching in front of her to rub her clit as well. Too many things are happening at the same time. “Daddy better make me cum, please, please—”

Your size fills the tight space of her ass so much that it’s difficult to move. The juices of her pussy that she’s used as makeshift lube can’t even do the job they’re assigned to. However, you don’t care about that. You simply fuck Hyeju’s fat, delectable ass like it’s been your long-term dream. In a way it is, but you’d be dreaming about it long after it’s already been fulfilled.

Hyeju stands up to take the lead and work her butt on you. You know she’s an excellent dancer but you never knew she could be this good at twerking either.

“Holy shit, Hyeju, your little asshole feels amazing,” you moan. Spank her, though she’s undeserving of punishment when she’s amazing at using that ass.

“And your cock is so fucking big in my ass,” she says. “I don’t want anything else, daddy. Ohh, god, keep doing that.”

Her rear end bounces and claps together as they take in your fat cock. She looks back at you lustfully, watching you ruin her supple ass. Reach for her breasts to match the velocity of her thrusts. You’re two forces colliding, each filled with fire to defeat the other with pleasure. It’s a losing game when Hyeju’s ass is just as good as her pussy, which you continue playing with to bring her to orgasm.

“Good girl, Hye, keep bouncing that fat ass on daddy,” you whisper in her ear. Love to hear her weak little moans; they show you that she likes this as much as you do. Probably more. “You want to cum, right? You want to squirt on me again?”

“Yes, daddy, please!” Hyeju is in paradise although her skin feels like it’s been set on fire. She hasn’t felt this good before. “No other cock can do me the way you do, daddy, I’m all yours! Make me cum, cum inside me, daddy!”

You’ve changed her. She’s a totally different person outside of the bedroom. She hides her approval in sarcastic comments and teases you about them. How is it that she’s completely submissive and good for you?

Your ego swells. Smack her pussy just enough to make her gasp. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours, daddy!”

“And this ass?”

“It’s all yours, daddy,” sobs Hyeju. “Always so fucking big inside me, so much better, you need to make me cum—”

Pull her down to your lap then thrust inside her all while not letting an inch withdraw from her snug butthole. “Cum for me,” you say.

“Ohhhh fuck!”

Hyeju begins her sexy body rolls again as a profane spray of clear liquid fires from her pussy. She’s so wet; when you rub her clit, a squelching sound is produced. She’s too turned on from the feeling of you savage pounding inside her. She slaps her own pussy to go along with your rubbing, then leads your fingers inside her cunt again. She’s still so tight.

The combined feeling of two of her holes being violated has her tired. She could be murmuring a spell and you wouldn’t know because of how jumbled and jarred her words are. The syllables make out your name and title. At least, that’s what you could understand. It would take an experienced veteran transcriber to make sense of Hyeju’s sounds.

You blast her ass with so much cum that it overflows, like water threatening to spill from the brim of a glass. Your joined cores are so wet and sticky that neither of you feel like moving. You want to stay in the narrow yet pleasurable comfort of each other’s touch forever.

It’s so pleasant that you could only hear the gratifying sound of each other’s pants and not the knocks on your door.

So safe that you don’t hear the sound of a lock being skewered with because each other’s bodies are more homely than this dorm.

So distracting that when he comes in through the door and yells in disgust, it’s the first time you feel an awakening sobriety.

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morallyinept · 5 months

Text

Summary: Joel Miller comes back into your life unexpectedly after a gap of thirty years, and stirs up all kinds of memories and longing. Now, as you're stationed on an outpost for five days alone with the man you stupidly let go of all those years ago, you have a chance to confront him about your past life together and all the things you wished you’d said and done.

But Joel’s different now, and you know you need to tread carefully. Joel Miller is not the same man you once knew in another life.

A slow burn romance set in the post apocalyptic world, approx. twenty or so years after the initial Cordyceps outbreak.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Chapter word count: 4.8k

Series Masterlist

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: You and Joel finally - finally! - get close and embrace your feelings. Detailed descriptions of smut.

☝🏻 I WILL NO LONGER BE ADDING NEW TAGS due to some of them not working as they should, despite me tagging, so please ensure you're following me and turn on notifs so you don't miss an update on this story.

Enjoy! 🖤

Previous Chapter

You wake, what feels like an eternity later, but has only been hours, with your head stuffed into the crook of Joel's swamping armpit; the material slightly damp there, from sweat or the possibility of your own saliva pooling in your cheek.

He's asleep, snuffling gently, and the shack is thrust into the pale blues of the night as it carries its silent eeriness with it.

You stir gently so as not to disturb him; your arm numb that’s been crushed under your weight, and stand feeling your legs come back to life.

You step over the wayward bullets scattered on the floor from your panic earlier, transported back to the steady thrum of your heart, mirroring Joel’s movements as you fired at the infected. Keen and unwavering, the world narrowed into single points of focus as you cleared the way for him.

In that moment of controlled chaos, the world reset. A formidable duo against the canvas of the wild, standing as a bulwark against the horrors screeching to get you. A new kinship forged through shared missions and unspoken trust that had never really dissipated, despite the passage of time passing between you.

You felt it then. And you were certain he did too.

The scent of gunpowder lingers on your top, your skin, merging with the organic perfume of the wilderness outside. Approaching the window, you peer out carefully and the valley is still and infected free, aside from the corpses that still litter it from the attack.

Joel’s flooding your line of sight again; shooting at them with a calm rhythm that sends you back into that moment when that unspoken tether between you both convinced you this was all too real.

Funny thing about staring death in the face...

The kiss, God the kiss. You can still taste it on your mouth. Feel Joel’s tongue slip inside and search you out, taste him.

A moment carved out in the brutal landscape of survival, where every ounce of tenderness is a precious commodity and he was feeding it to you, a succinct piece of himself that you'd craved and missed terribly.

The absence of him only amplified now that he's in your personal space.

So many years wasted. So much regret.

So much to say, but how do you even begin? How can you start to tell him that you’ve felt out of sync, incomplete, for over thirty years? It feels like standing on an emotional plateau, the expanse of your failings spread out below. Each step requires careful negotiation over that craggy peak; a perilous dance between intimacy and self-preservation.

You reach for some water, refreshing your mouth and cooling you in the summer heat that still clings to your clammy skin.

Throughout your life, you'd often play this encounter out in your mind with sweet lucidity; something to bring you comfort and cling onto as you shivered in the cold, or maybe some petulant delusion that refused to relinquish its hold from the ledge. Either way you couldn’t have predicted that it would actually birth into fruition through a tiresome and painful labour.

And now that Joel is so within your grasp, reaching out and clutching onto you with two tired, calloused hands, you can’t help but to speculate and ponder on how you can both navigate forward together in this wilderness called living now, despite your mind trying out the slay of convincing you that you shouldn’t question it; you shouldn’t look for holes to pick at and make wider, bloodier.

He’s here and that’s all that matters, right?

A sleepy grunt from Joel stirs your gaze to his direction on the cot, leaving your muddled thoughts to tumble at your feet; a warm mountain of a silhouette unmoved and lost somewhere inside a dream as he clings to the fading remnants of it.

You smile recalling the sincerity of his words. The fact that he still feels it between you both; he never forgot, like you didn’t. You feel it finally warm the cold channels of your veins.

Time is fleeting, a verklempt commodity carrying nostalgia in its blood. Moving at speeds hard to comprehend, and a whole lifetime has almost passed by you both. You wonder how it could be that you’ve got so lucky to have a second chance, when most people in this world hadn’t begun to embrace their first. Their chances were gone, stripped from them and buried in the ground littered with bones.

It only makes you feel some swill of remorse; some ebb of guilt rises up out of the weeds with a small, fluffy head. You shake your head physically as the shadows of doubt recess back into the depths of your cranium.

Too much time has been wasted and you’re determined not to waste anymore. Not now, not when at any moment Joel could be lost to you again through this world digging its feral claws in and ripping him from your clutch.

The heat beads on the back of your neck, a stickiness all over that you feel, more prominently between your legs as it registers.

He’s here and you want him, more than you’ve ever wanted anything.

You swallow the water down, failing to extinguish the burning; the sparks flaring inside your chest full of hunger and need. You make your way back over to him, climbing back on the cot beside him.

His arms gravitate to you instinctively as he wakes.

He smiles in some lazy contentment as you feel warm in his grip.

“What time is it?” Joel murmurs out groggily into the blue fade, a heavy exhale from his nostrils warms your face.

“Late, probably.” You caress your fingers through his hair.

He hums out softly with the smile spreading wider on his lips. He’s so beautiful, even more so in this life now. You examine his aging face in the dying, inky light and take note of all the lines and wrinkles that have set up shop around his eyes and forehead.

He blinks the sleep away, setting his focus on you from curious brown orbs that appear like black glass in the encroaching dark.

“How’s the back?” You query gently. His hand, weathered by life’s challenges, finds a home over yours as you weave through his silvery flecked locks.

“A bit better now.” He says as you peer into him. You're certain he can feel your heart, hear it even, as you rest against the bulky frame of him. “Did ya sleep?” He queries trying to stifle a yawn.

“Mm.” You nod gently.

“Should probably move,” he goes to shift, but you stop him with a gentle palm to his chest, and he eyes you softly; his digits find yours, squeezing gently, when they start wandering over his sternum over the bobbling flannel.

“Don’t you dare.” You shake your head, eyes getting lost and tangled in his own.

A charged stillness hangs between you until you press your lips to his gently, and he doesn’t resist. Melting into you, with a sigh of relief, as his other hand sweeps up your back and clutches you tightly to him.

Joel moans into your mouth, filling you with helium and making you float slowly into the ether. Your head is dizzy, your stomach simmers as his tongue sweeps around yours tasting all your colours.

Joel kisses you as though he's chronically starved of affection as well as nourishment, hungry. He could gorge on you forever, filling himself up on you as his moans and clicks of his mouth confirm these promises to you.

Your heart quickens, you’re convinced you can taste it in your throat, standing on the threshold of a reunion that’s been three decades in the making. Time and the relentless hardships of survival have etched their marks on your faces, your bodies, but beneath the surface, the familiarity of your shared history lingers, burning brighter between you.

The touch, once so familiar, sparks a resonance that reverberates through the years, rekindling the flame that had never truly extinguished between you. It’s very much alive in the way he holds you close, how he gasps into your mouth.

How you know he wants this; wants you just as much.

You shift, straddling over him and then you feel him; excited and wanting as he grows hard between your thighs. Joel growls and delicately pinches your bottom lip between his teeth as you rub yourself against him, the delicious friction winding you up tighter.

“Ya still want me?” He puffs letting your lip go. It’s more a desperate, resounding plea than an actual question. A slight tone of weariness, caution - a faint ebb of fear - laces his voice.

“Always,” you gasp and he grunts. "Always, Joel."

He pulls back, watching you in the shadows and how your eyes find him and pull him under your hypnotic spell. He could never resist you; even with a shot to fuck back and the length of time that has separated you, he’ll find a way to be inside you again. To be at one with you.

To make you come undone and feed him all the pieces of you he’s missed out on for so fucking long - he decides instantly the pain later will be worth it.

“Haven’t even touched ya yet, but ya heart is racin’.” Joel breathes against your face in a coarse whisper.

“How do you know that?” You pant, a catch in your breath.

“‘Cause mine is.” He takes your hand, flattens it to his chest and you feel that thrumming metronome like he said.

“Joel,” you groan. "I want you."

You take his mouth again, smiling. It’s pure fucking bliss; the swirling, sucking and licking of that darned tongue, reminding you of all the ways he knows how to use it. His languorous kiss makes every nerve tingle, every heated shudder birth within your bones, sending you towards the edge already.

His hands, albeit shaky, begin to map the old routes of your body he once knew so well. Trailing all the contours of you, running up your back, down to your hips, squeezing along your ass and thighs. Rising up over the mounds of your breasts where he caresses and squeezes gently as he swallows your pants and gasps as he reminds you of his protective grip.

Your fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, he sits upright with a slight wince as his back cracks, shaking free of the offending item, eager to have you touch him.

You plant kisses over his broad, bruised shoulders, running your hands down the sculpted muscle of his tan arms. His chest is littered with a few moles; whitened scars that you run your fingers over and long to hear the stories of their origin, even if they're painful for him to revisit. You want to know it all.

You scratch your fingers in the soft greying hairs on his chest, tracing patterns in the freckles dotted over him like constellations.

Joel’s hands relinquish you of your top kissing over your skin, and finally your bra, and rather than hide from him, you reveal yourself in your aged flesh and graces.

Breasts that aren't as perky as they once were, skin mottled with your own scars and blemishes. He can see the echoes of the young, wily woman he once knew in the lines of your face, and as he looks upon you now, he relishes the resilience, the tenacity.

The way you can still take his breath away as you hear it dislodge in his throat.

“Ya beautiful,” he husks. And you believe it.

His mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking it into that warm, wet orifice and making you whine as he flicks his tongue against it.

“Mmm,” you breathe out as the hardened nub tingles inside his mouth. You feel it rush over your body, toying with your core as he kisses and licks.

He pushes his hips upwards and you feel him rut against your centre as he gets comfortable on the cot squeaking beneath you both.

You groan out and reach down; your hand sliding down his wide chest and over the swell of his tummy paunch, travelling between you both to feel him out over his jeans.

He audibly grunts as you reach him, squeezing and rubbing gently over him, and your nipple slips out of his mouth.

“Can’t guarantee I’ll last. S’been too long.” He blushes as you palm against him.

You shush him with your fingertips to his mouth, he kisses them gently as they traverse his lips. “It doesn't matter. I just want you, Joel."

“Ya want me, darlin’?” He asks again, heavy gravel plinking out his mouth like gold nuggets.

“I want you inside me,” you whine with so much need strangling your voice that it could be pathetic. But neither of you care right now.

"Always loved bein' inside ya."

He unbuckles his belt as you rid yourself of your jeans and panties, and are back in his lap wholly naked and bare.

His fingers find your bubbly seam, probing at the sticky folds there and he groans out. A delicate exploration, one that tantalises and teases, as he brushes up to your swollen clit and presses against it, watching you react and buck in his lap.

You watch as he tastes his fingers, sucking them clean of your slick and eyeing you as he does so. You instantly melt, your body fizzing.

You pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips as two of his thick fingers slide up into your pussy; your thighs are seated over his and open for him to whelve.

He sucks on your bottom lip as he slips them in and out, gently curling them against your spot that he finds so easily; muscle memory of your wet cunt that he never forgot.

Once he finds it again, he’s merciless in your undoing.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, darlin’.” He purrs; he’s your complete annihilation as he furrows and strokes deeper pulling those noises out of you he never forgot the sheet music too. "Goddamn..."

“Joel,” you murmur into his mouth feeling him pull you closer to the edge as he fucks you slowly with his thick digits. A fusion of rediscovery and the familiarity of long-lost passion that you don’t ever want to end.

"Aw God… such a beautiful cunt ya've got. Fuck, I missed this." He sighs as he listens to your mewls, your breaths.

The filth from his mouth makes you blind, eyes glazing over as your irises and pupils sink into the whites. Your insides clench around his fingers furrowing deeper in rapture.

"Joel, you feel so good. Oh my God..."

"Just wanna make ya feel good too, darlin'."

“Please, don’t stop.”

"M'never gonna stop."

You reach down and feel the weight of him in your palm, leaking into it as you massage up and down. He hisses and groans, his face running against yours and scratching at your cheeks with his soft scruff as you familiarise yourself with his cock that’s so hard and heavy.

You can feel it throb around your fingers as you work him up; pulsing, he’s a quivering bundle of muscles shaking against your body. Re-discovering all the delicious things that make him whimper, pant and shake like he’s terrified.

“Fuck,” he whines. He remembers this, remembers your touch. Revels in it and craves more as he shudders for breath. His energy, his vibrations getting tangled up in you as you pump him slowly.

“Mmm, Joel,” you pant as he feels you tense around him. Your pussy squeezing as your own grip around his dick falters a little. You can feel it deep in your belly, blooming and buzzing through all your nerve endings; that heat starting to engulf you.

He recognises it; that sweet moment when you tense up fully right before you become boneless flesh in his arms. He’s missed this so fucking much; the feel of your pussy so wet and dripping for him. The way your body shakes like a constant earthquake clacking against his ribs. The tingles on his skin as you moan and pant for him.

The rush he gets when you tell him you’re about to come for him.

“Come for me, darlin’,” he coaxes. “Been so long, let me have it.”

And you do, clenching around his fingers as you soak them; your orgasm peaks through you and makes your thighs shudder.

It’s glorious, fuck it’s like staring into the sun and seeing it for days after when you shut your eyes, burned into the back of your eyelids.

“Fuck!” You caterwaul.

Your body unkinks itself from being coiled up for so, so long. Your eyes water, a silly thing you are, as you feel it bloom and flower; the scents fill your nose with recognition, with remembrance as your orgasm greets you with wide, open arms.

Hello, old friend. I’ve missed you.

His hand grasps yours with an urgency that betrays the years of separation. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine. Your palms pressed together, fingers interlocking, squeezing as you come.

“Joel, I need you,” you sigh, begging into his shoulder trying not to drool over it. An unrelenting schism of his name uttered from your lips as you rattle and shake around him. “Please, please…”

And you begging him is his complete undoing.

The head of his cock is swollen and poking excitedly through the uncut skin. He runs his thumb over the gooey bulb; massaging the sticky secretions of glossy precum into it, making his hips buck weakly as he lines it up with your sopping slit.

You feel him, right there on the cusp.

A few pounding beats of realisation that you’re finally both here. Hearing your mutual breathing all around you, echoing like it’s been slowed down and turned up full blast; that laboured hmm-haa as you’re finally connected when he pushes in.

That lingering pause between you both where nothing exists around you anymore. It's just you and him.

The world can burn outside, the horrors and the creatures within can devour it - it doesn't matter. You’re here, he’s here with you.

He’s inside you.

He’s all you need to breathe as you pry your useless lungs from your chest and toss them aside like silk ribbons flying in the wind.

“Ah fuck.” Joel whines out as you sink down fully on him, feeling him stretch you out again after a long hiatus.

He groans out, that choked gasp in your ear as he enters you, flooding down your spine. The cords in his neck tensing; that deep, guttural sound when a man finds his pleasure reverberating out down the valley outside.

He always grunted when he slid inside you. That familiar whine of him escaping him a short, gruff burst sending your skin alight. Every hair on your body responds to him as he claims you again after a thirty year or so hiatus.

Your lips, once a mystery he thought he'd forgotten, are now an irresistible temptation as he kisses you again, deep and with an intensity that burns you up. Savouring it, relishing the feel of it after so long.

You realise he’s not simply fucking you, he’s making love to you.

Tiny pricks of pain are felt deep in your core as he slowly bottoms out and your cunt remembers the shape of him as he fills you fully.

“Ya pussy was made for me to fill it, darlin’. Still so fuckin’ tight.” He groans.

You coo, gripping him as he squeezes at your hips greedily. That single sheath of him into you takes your breath away, and for a moment it’s like you can’t breathe.

All oxygen is stripped from you and floating in a void of nothing where it’s only Joel; the feel of him inside you again at long last and the way he’s staring back at you as though he can’t believe that it’s just happened himself makes your eyes water again.

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good. Mmph… just like I ‘member.” He pants through delicate, desperate pecks at your face.

It’s a collision of pent-up desire, a reckoning of the years you’ve spent apart. The taste of familiarity mingled with the urgency of the present, creating a heady cocktail that intoxicates you both.

“I remember you too, Joel.” You nuzzle into him, clinging onto his broad shoulders. “God, your cock is still so huge.” You gasp with a bewildered giggle. It’s perfectly unbearable as you grind slowly on it.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “So big it’ll rip ya open, huh? Ain’t that what ya used to say?” He teases.

A small, juddery chuckle escapes you and he feels you clamp round his cock as you do. Joel shunts his hips upward once and it hits you, all the way deep in the furthest reaches of your cervix and you cry out.

"Like that, remember?" He croons.

"F-fuck, yes!"

He does it again and you claw at his skin desperately with your nails.

"Joel!"

He does it again. And again, until he settles into a heady rhythm as he fills you with each thrust, your clit grinding against his pubic bone deliciously.

You’re mewling, clutching onto him as you remember his body connected to yours like this and experience it again all over for the first time.

Your hips meet his every snap with a wet mash as you take him in. He packs you out, rubbing against the right spots and you start to see chrome stars gathering under your eyelids again.

“Joel,” you mewl as the tension starts stiffening your vertebrae straight and spreads into your pelvis, locking up around him. Your walls flutter and squeeze and he groans the most delicious sound in your ear.

Every touch, every caress, carries the weight of history - a brutal history that begs to be rewritten. The grittiness of your pasts fuel the fire, and the room becomes a battleground of desire and the utmost acquiescence.

“Mmm, don’t stop,” you plead as he smothers you wholly. Your head feels like it no longer belongs on your neck, your eyes are rolling back as though you're possessed.

Your body snaps back, letting go. You shake; your cunt clenching, soaking. Surrendering wholly to him.

“That’s m’girl," he pants. "That’s m’fuckin' girl!” Joel praises as you flood his throbbing cock.

All gentle masculinity gone as he grabs you tightly, shunting your hips against him; leaving bruises in your skin to bloom into violet flowers as he fucks you through your peak.

You cry out, constricting around him. Feeling it ripple all over your body; punching glitter out of your back in colourful, metallic bursts. You throw your head back taking in a deep, heavy hit of oxygen, but there is none when you’re this far thrown up into the universe.

The feel of his hot breath against your neck and the slither of his wet tongue leave aftershocks flooding through you. His arms crush you closer as he continues to wind and flex.

You look at him when you resurrect from the dead, and he smiles crookedly through those pink lips you need to taste again. He’s not lost it, that ability to leave you absolutely wrecked as though high on some wondrous drug.

And like an addict, you’ll always crave him.

You kiss him deeply and he completely surrenders too.

“M’gonna come,” Joel husks, sweat from his forehead sticking to your face. You want it; you taste it on your lips and lick the salt of it up.

“Come inside me,” you mewl.

“Ya sure?” He queries with weak, desperate trepidation.

You nod. “Fill me up, Joel. It's okay." You assure.

Little breaths of "fuckfuckfuck" puff out of him on a ragged whisper as he feels your pussy milking him until he’s coming deep inside of you; spraying you down with that thick pearly warmth.

His body jolts and his grip tightens further into your hip skin as he releases. Feeling your pussy pulse and rib around him from the sensitivity; those fluttering twitches against his shaft squeeze him further into an utter brain dead mess.

“Aaw fuck.” He whines gently.

You kiss all over his sweaty face until his lips latch onto yours and he groans contentedly into your wet cheek flesh.

You both rock to a slow gradual halt; staying sheathed on him until your centre becomes a faintly ebbing contraction of muscle that eventually stills and leaks him out down his balls.

Joel’s voice is a gravelly whisper finding you in the violet hues of the dark and being strangled.

“Ya kill me, darlin’.”

You stroke through his curls, untamed and damp at the back of his neck. His arms hold you close, pressing you to his chest as he plants kisses along your collarbone.

You pull his head up and look at his face, into his sleepy, dreamy eyes. His beard isn't full, in fact it reminds you of a teenager trying to grow one and being left with patchy fluff. It's greying slightly in some places, towards his ears and chin as you run your fingernails through it scritching gently. But the moustache is thick, despite being short enough to see and taste his pink chapped lips.

So you do; a deep kiss that melds your skin and binds you to his. He kisses back deeply and then plants an amuse-bouche of little tender kisses over your lips and chin to seed and grow.

“I… love you, Joel,” you say as you pull away from him.

You can’t help it, you always have. It just flows naturally, feels right.

And the lesson here is not to let things fester. Seize the moment in this crazy, horrific world. Too long have you spent feeling incredibly bereft of hope. A complete immolation of you as you fight and bolster, endure and survive.

This can't be all there is left in this world. There has to be more. And you found it, you finally fucking found it.

Kelper was right, he was right to bring you back, he was right to breathe life back into you. He knew, that bastard just knew. You smile, thinking of his face when he'll say he told you so.

Joel nudges his forehead to yours and breathes out in sweet relief. “I never stopped lovin’ ya.” He replies. “Not really.”

You sniff trying to stop the tears, but they fall onto his thumbs as he holds your face close to his. He can taste them on his lips, drinks them down as you let them go, free falling to their death as they take some of the grief and suffering with them, lightening the load.

It shifts. You don't know how or why or when. Just dwelling in his energy now, rather than the lines around his eyes.

They're still beautiful, Joel's looks have only gotten better with age, you’ve deduced, but it's not the thing that’ll steal your breath now. No, it's the subtleties. The way he glows inwardly when you catch a rare smile he throws you in the shack. The safety you feel in the weight of his arms right now that stops the worry and angst of his absence for decades almost immediately. It's in the words he doesn't say, because he doesn't have to say them.

And sometimes he can’t, and that will be alright.

You realise that Joel now in this world, is the man you've always wondered what it could be like to be loved by. Joel back then wasn't ready. Wasn't mature enough. He hadn't had everything stripped from him so he could appreciate the small things, the finer details. That comfort in silence, that warmth of a body that just wants to be next to him because they simply enjoy his bruised weight crushed against them.

And as you rest contended against him, slowly allowing yourself to shed some of those crusted layers of pain in salt water tracks, Joel does the same as he contemplates this too.

As he allows himself a moment to see in the opaque fog as it starts to shift and thin out.

He knows he loves you; that he loved you back then, and loves you now.

Love is no longer some massively unattainable thing that needs to be filled with capitalist sentiment to be brought. Love, to Joel, is in the small things unnoticeable by others.

In a world when you have nothing, sometimes forgoing even the basics, like food; love is the thing that will be savoured when it’s found, taken care of. Not tossed around so foolishly or frivolously like before.

Love is to be planted, grown and watered; tended to every day. It's leaves smoothed and rubbed gently between a finger and thumb. Pruned and clipped so it can bloom into something beautiful that he can dare to enjoy in this rotten world that has already taken so much from him.

And he refuses to lose anything else - he can’t. He's just one fucking man, he can't.

“S'never gonna be enough,” he murmurs a little while later as you’re laying in his arms on the cot.

Both naked and he’s running his hand down the length of your spine leaving goose pimples. “But I got as much love in me to give as ya fuckin’ need.” His voice is in the roots of your hair. "I dunno if it’s gonna be easy, if I’m gonna be easy at times… But m'gonna try. I want to."

You smile with wet eyes, and place a kiss just below his nipple. “You’ll always be more than enough, Joel.” You lift your head to find him in the dark. “You’re everything.”

Joel’s arms cradle you so tightly that he could snap your bones.

“M’not goin’ anywhere, darlin’. It’s you n’ me now, okay?”

To be continued...

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

Thank you for taking the time to read my story; it really means so much to me. I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you so much 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know.

Tagging everyone who asked to be tagged & who re-blogged my teaser.

@secretelephanttattoo @morgaussy @darkheartgatita @sp00kymulderr @survivingandenduring @sin-djarin @lilmizmoz @yazsos @ryangoslingstanktop @barbellpedro @givemeth @anavatazes @alwaysmicado @the-blind-assassin-12 @kirsteng42 @missredherring @gasolinerainbowpuddles @millennial-teenybopper @maggiemayhemnj @harriedandharassed @stevie75 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @chaoticfestninja @reddedmiller @doughmonkey @sonderosa @magpiepillsjunior @chronically-ghosted @pedroswife69 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @marisemonteiroo @everythingiwanttoread @jjhayhay20 @nerdieforpedro @perennialdoll247 @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @sscorpiiio @untamedheart81 @srmacaroni @violinchick @orcasoul @lucyeyelesbarrow @mandrillusphinx @loveisacowboyyy @suzmagine @disassociation-daydreams

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters #jett's writing #five days series

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notfoundfootage · 13 days

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God's I'm ovulating and it feels like I'm a bitch in heat so I'm just gonna throw my thoughts here, deal with it:

Includes Halsin, Karlach, Wyll and Minthara.

Nsfw 👇 below

Imagine being shared by all companions in camp like a common whore.

Passed from one to another like a ragdoll, being fucked the whole night, your mouth and hole never empty, someone riding your dick if you have one, hands everywhere in your body.

Some of them are fighting to have you next, fucking you until you're dumb out of your wits.

It's out of characters for some of them, but I can dream.

I want Halsin to fuck me so hard I see the Oak Father while in bliss. Wanna ride him until my knees give in from pain. If he wants to rail me in the woods, in the river, in a cave, he can. He's so big, his arms so delicious, I wanna be caged in while he ruts like a madman in my hole.

I want to grind against Karlach's hot sex until I make her see whatever celestial body she wishes, god, I wanna go down on her so so bad, she's so beautiful. She can fuck me, she can turn me into a piece of coal if she wants, Karlach can destroy me and I'd thank her.

I want to destroy Wyll and his pompous fancy boy ass. I wanna hold him by the horns as I sit on his face, I wanna suck his goddamned blade until he runs dry. He's literally so ruinable, so pretty, so hot, I want him so bad.

Gods, imagine being sandwiched between Wyll and Karlach, it's the perfect duo, it makes me go crazy just thinking about it. I'm truly a loss.

Fucking Minthara, I barely know her, but I want to be put in my place by her. Want her to order me to suck her sex until my mouth hurts, I wanna worship her, step on me hard, drow lady. Tie me up, beat me down, destroy me and rebuild me.

#halsin x reader #karlach x reader #wyll x reader #minthara x reader #bg3 #found speaks

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kimis-gloves · 1 month

Text

Runnin’ Home to You: Part 2 - read pt 1 & 2 on ao3

100 follower special!!

warnings: swearing, mostly fluffy plot and then they get it ON at the end, 18+/Mature Audiences. oral sex m!receiving, max speaking dutch😫

word count: 2681

Max and Charles stood there. Charles was lost in the depths of max’s eyes, unable to find any words to say to him in this moment.

“I’m sorry I came so late. I didn’t mean to disturb you this way.” Max forced out, still unable to piece together exactly what he was doing inside of Charles’s apartment.

As Charles guides them back to the couch, he’s wondering what max could be apologizing for. Max was more than perfect for Charles and Charles would open his door for max at any hour for any reason, even if it meant pushing aside his aching heart to help someone whoo was a friend first.

“It’s okay, max. I’m not upset that you came. I’m glad you chose to come here rather than doing something dumb.”

“I dont know where I went wrong with kelly. I thought everything was perfect. I gave her everything she wanted, but in reality, I guess she just wasn’t everything that I wanted.”

“What do you mean max?” Charles questions, he along with everyone else, was under the impression that Max and Kelly were the duo, together forever, through thick and thin.

“I mean, is she inst the person I love, she int the person I long for after a hard race or a long meeting? Shas not the one I crave to smile and laugh with. I don’t feel the way about her that I feel like I should. I messed up so bad by loving someone who I wasn’t in love with. I dont know what to do Charles. Im for certain the one I love doesn feel the same way, and it hurts so bad. All I want to do is to show him how much he means to me, but I’m afraid that doing so will destroy my bond with him.”

“He?” Charles muttered, not even meaning to as he was so caught off guard. Max Verstappen is in love with a man?

“Yes, he, Charles. Im in love with a man and he doesn love me back, big surprise!” max said with a forced laugh, which wasn’t a laugh at all. Charles could hear through the laugh. He could tell that max was struggling so he could only do what he does best.

“So tell me about him,” he mumbled, with so much care to hear who this mystery man is that has max on such a grasp.

“Wha- Oh. Him. Well, to put things short, he’s everything I wish I could be. To me, he is my definition of perfect. Every moment I spend with him is like coming up for air after almost drowning. When I’m with him, I’m truly myself and I don’t see myself being that way around anyone else. The way he stares at me when we’re side by side, the look of hope in his eyes, just begging for me to let him by one time, hoping for a chance at something..”

As max carried on, Charles began to wonder who this person could be, he almost starts to get jealous that this person has obtained so much of max, parts of max that Charles thought he would never see until his thoughts are cut short by something max says

“... And god does he look fucking stunning in red”

And that’s when it hit him. Max was in love with Charles, and Charles was in love with max.

–

When max saw how Charles looked at him after he accidentally blurted out a crucial part of Charles’s identity, he feels his breathing start to deepen and his heart race faster than he’s ever gone in his car.

“Well, he sounds like a catch,” Charles chuckles with a quick wink in max’s direction.

“Yeah.. he really is, I guess”

“So, what are you going to do about it? You can’t know for sure until you ask him yourself and honestly max? Youre amazing. You have the best qualities a person could have, personally and physically. He would have to be stupid to not feel the same way about you”

Max hasn’t noticed how close Charles really is to him. He can hear the soft sounds of air escaping from his nose. Charles’s silence is something he could drown in for an eternity.

“Max, you okay? Do you nee-”

That’s when it hits max. Charles was talking about himself, of course he was! How could he have not noticed all along, how perfect Charles was with accepting him into his home in the darkest hours of the morning. He cuts the blue-eyed darling off with something Charles finds to be unexpected from max, to be so upfront with what he wants.

Max cuts off Charles with a kiss, not as passionate as max had hoped but soft and delicate, enough to hopefully convince Charles to kiss him back.

And he does.

Charles cups his hands on max’s jawline, opening his lips ever so slightly to invite max in. max adds a touch of appreciation by embracing the kiss and tasting the freshness of Charles’s mouthwash. He can’t help to think to himself what kissing Charles would be like when his mouth tastes like max.

As they come back up for air, the heavy breathing and light pink flush on Charles’s cheeks drives max absolutely mad.

“That’s what I’m going to do about it,” max utters, barely over a whisper as he can’t believe he just kissed the love of his dreams, and he kissed him back.

–

He finally admitted it. Charles thought all along that he was just being delusional, or crazy. But he knew that the way max grabs onto his waist way too early for way too long for a podium photo, or the way max smiles and blushes while he’s spraying Charles with the champagne of winners. Even how he chooses to talk to Charles over everyone else when he has the chance to. It was so obvious, but everyone told Charles not to believe what he thought. Max enjoying the view as drips fall from Charles’s features a bit too much, looking more Charles than Charles ever has.

But max however, looks fucking amazing right now. Lips puffy and panting, cheeks covered in a mild blush, and looking at Charles like he might explode if he doesn’t kiss him again.

So he does. Charles goes back for the second kiss. More desperate than the first and both clinging onto each other with a deep need for each other on themselves. Max pushes Charles lightly to lie down on the couch, but Charles insists on taking max into his bedroom as he would rather not fuck his dream guy on something that would take impossibly long to clean up. He’d rather wash his sheets. Charles finds himself getting off track as he’s leading max down the long hallway towards his bedroom.

Max admires the art Charles has displayed on the walls, as he also noticed Charles’s beautiful piano in a separate room along the way, he’s wondering just how beautiful Charles would look spread out, bent over the thing he adores so much, but not nearly as much as he adores max.

As soon as they both step into the well-decorated room, of course Charles has better taste than I probably will ever have. Max is thinking to himself.

He’s standing shyly in the middle of Charles’ room as Charles, painfully slow, makes his way towards max, resting his hands on max’s broad muscles.

“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to tell you how much you are to me,” Charles says, voice deep and rasped with desire.

“What do you mean?” max knows exactly what Charles means, he just wants him to say it so that it can be real.

“What I mean is, I have had my eyes on you for so long, our entire lives max. What I mean is I have watched you grow into who you are and I’ve only fallen harder and harder as times gone on. The amount of nights I’ve spent thinking about the way you touch me with what I was made to think was simple innocence, friendly rivals, was actually so much deeper, and that means more than anything to me right now. More than a championship, more than my seat at Ferrari. I will do absolutely everything to make sure you are loved every day and to protect you and our relationship. Whether that means pretending like nothing has changed in front of the media, I will do it because if it means I get to have these moments with you, then I will do it happy.”

“Charles, i don't know what to say or how to say what i want to”

“Dont say anything, just fucking kiss me right no-”

That was everything Charles needed. He didn’t need words from max to know he felt the same because the way max immediately grabbed onto Charles’s waist, the familiar touch feeling so much more intense right now than it ever has bin. It’s filled with need and want from max, almost as if he’s hoping to never let go of Charles for the remainder of his lifetime. His tongue diving deep into Charles’ mouth, tasting everything Charles had to offer as if it was his last meal. He quickly pushed Charles onto his bed, letting him get himself comfortable before putting his obviously larger body on top of Charles’s.

“Youre wearing too many clothes,” Charles demands

“Oh- Okay..” max stumbles back, balancing himself somehow on his legs, which felt like jello after hearing everything Charles had to say.

“We don’t need to do anything. I do not want to pressure you, but you should know I’m a virgin”

Max was surprised that he was shocked at his. He didn’t want to assume anything, but he had thought Charles would’ve used his beauty to his advantage by now.

“I was hoping someday, this.. Would happen. I guess I was right,” Charles said with that cheeky smile that always made max go crazy.

“Well lucky you charlie, I am too.”

“But I thought you and kelly-”

“Never, it never felt right to do it with her. But this?? This feels so fucking incredibly right, Charles. I can’t explain, i just need to show you..” and that he did as he quickly removed the remainder of his clothes. Charles finds himself staring in awe at max’s built figure. Broad shoulders and a perfect shape, thighs that could kill him if he wanted to. Max feels his desire as he mumbles.

“hall die eraf” - *take those off*

“English please, Maxie,” Charles giggles, but blushing at the sudden rasp max’s voice always has when he switches to dutch

“I said take those [clothes] off. I don’t like to repeat myself so I suggest you listen close, charlie.”

“Yes sir”

“Sir? Thats new,” Max hums

“Yes.. sir” Charles says in a more sultry tone, hoping to tease max as he drops his shirt off, leaving both in just their obviously sponsored boxers.

“Jij bent zo mooi charlie..” - you’re so beautiful

“Max.. I can’t understand you” Charles pouts as max takes a few steps closer to him, eyes roaming all over his lean but controlled figure. He really does look so beautiful like this, only for max too.

Max takes a moment to admire the Monegasque before he pulls him in for a deep kiss, this time not lasting long before max finds his hands trailing down Charles’s bare body, leaving soft but wet kisses along his jawline, smelling him in a way he never has before.

—

Before max could stop him, he found himself being pushed onto the bed by Charles, sitting as he watches Charles drop down to his knees, meeting the level of his thighs, he rests his head down on max’s thick thigh & max ruffles through his hair for a second before Charles starts to leave small kisses along max’s thighs, slowly leading up to where his boxers. Charles gives a max a look that speaks more languages than max can while he’s drunk. Max nods in allowment as Charles struggles to pull the tight boxers over max’s thighs and ass. Max’s already hard large cock springs out and Charles lets out a small gasp, in excitement and in worry as to how he’s going to fit all of the max inside of his mouth, let alone anywhere else..

Charles watches attentively as max’s cock leaks pre cum when Charles starts to lick the base of his cock.

“Charles, please don’t be a tease.. I promise we will have so much time to try things. I just want to feel you right now, please mijn liefje” - my love

“Yes, Max,” Charles spits as he takes Max's cock in his mouth. He sucks on his cherry red tip as he tastes the slightly salty taste of max’s pre cum in the back of his mouth. There’s nothing that tastes as good as max does, as well as there’s nothing that looks as good as max does. His breathing growing heavy as he takes in this fresh sensation that Charles was giving him.

“You taste so good, Maxie..” Charles hums before deciding he’s ready to attempt to fit max’s length in his mouth.

“You don’t have to take it all at once, i get it, its pret-”

“Youre so big, max, I fucking love it. I can’t wait to feel it stretch me out n fill me up with your cum” Charles says with a whine that leaves a chill up max’s back, worsening as Charles takes him in his mouth again, this time going deeper and deeper until he’s reached the slight fuzz of max’s cleaned up pubic hair. he smiles- or at least tries to when he feels the tickles against his face as he's mildly gagging on max’s cock, there's nothing that he could be doing right now that he would enjoy as much as this. he could live with max’s cock down his throat. After a moment of getting comfortable, Charles starts to move his head up & down along max, letting his dick lay flat and heavy on charles’ tongue. The more Charles starts to see how desperate Max is, the more he gives him.

“oh- fuck char- fuccckkk-“ max hisses as he cant even create a sentence when all he can think about is how fucking good charles feels on him.

Accidentally jerking his hips up, charles pulls off of him and continues to stroke his cock with his left hand and that's when max notices that charles has been jerking himself off this entire time, both are painfully hard for the other as charles gives max those doe eyes that drive him mad. It's not long before Charles goes back to sucking on Max's length when Max has to let him know that he's not gonna last much longer.

“charlie please, baby, i'm not gonna- hnnn- not gonna last much longer..” Max whines

Pausing for a second, charles says lewdly “please finish down my throat maxie, i need to taste every bit of you..” and with that max did. a warm surge of thick & sticky fluid runs down his throat and as charles swallows it max cant help but stare in awe at how almost innocent charles looks after he just fucked his dick like that. soon after charles finishes himself and finds himself laying with max, not a word said but they know by now that words aren't necessary. they already know.

“Cha-“

“Quiet max, please. Its 5 in the morning, im fucking spent. Get some rest and we will talk about all of this tomorrow”

“Alright, Goodnight Charlie”

“Goodnight max”

With that, they both drifted to sleep with limbs entwined with limbs. heart beats & low, synchronised breathing filled the room along with an aura of belonging. This is where Max wants to spend the rest of his life, with charles. vulnerable and raw. all will be complete in the world of max verstappen as he sleeps, unknown to what would happen when he woke up.

thank you so so much for 100 followers! i appreciate every one of you ❤️ i really hope you guys enjoyed this, i had fun writing it:) please lmk if you would like to see more of this duo & look out for new content soon!

likes, reblogs, comments & kudos on ao3 are always appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

- Alex

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melloeyed · 10 months

Text

Double Trouble (Pt. 3)

Johnathan Ohnn (The Spot) X GN Reader

“You’re so reckless!”

“And you’re a geek!”

“Oh, now your bringing up the name-calling? Real mature!”

“What part of ‘less talking, more fighting’ didn’t you understand?!”

“I don’t think sidekicks are supposed to give out orders, Y/N.”

“Johnathan, I never agreed to being the god damn sidekick!”

“Yes you did! You said so last month!”

“I said, ‘perhaps’! That doesn’t mean yes!”

“Well, you should’ve been more specific!”

“And you should’ve been less talkative when we were with Spider-Man!”

“And you should’ve been less brash when we were fighting him!”

Y/N and Spot huffed as they dangled in the air, still trapped in the spider web and portals. Y/N still struggles against the sticky web, wiggling frantically to loosen the robes, but still no avail. Spot sighs and looks back at them. “Can you stop that? Your wiggling is clearly not working.” He sighs. Y/N growls in defeat as they stop. “Oh my God, this sucks! We’ve been up here for 5 hours!” They shouted.

“We’ve been up here for 2 minutes.” Spot said, blankly.

“Whatever!”

A long silence passes by as the defeated duo stood there, tied up in their frustrations and spider webs. Y/N couldn’t believe this was actually happening. First, a humiliating attempt of robbing a freaking ATM. Then, Spider-Man being an arrogant ass while The Spot attempts to battle him in the fist weakest way possible, and now this?! Being tied up in these damn spider webs and trapped by the Spot’s own portals?!

Y/N swore they could never more livid. They were just about to try wiggling again, but they remembered what Spot said a few minutes ago. They huff in disbelief as they turn their head towards him. “Are you seriously giving up right now?” They asked, “We’re quitting just like that?!”

“Of course not!” Spot groaned, “I’m trying to think and I can’t do that with you yelling!”

“I’m just mad, okay?! You know how I get when I’m angry!” Y/N shouted.

“Look, I’m just as mad as you are, but I’m not over here throwing a tantrum, now am I?”

“That’s because you’re smart, Johnathan!”

“What the hell does that-…just calm down, okay?”

“Hmph!”

Spot sighs in content after Y/N calms down and remains still. He glances at them before turning his head back around, continuing to focus. He certainly wish his plan should’ve at least worked a bit, but like he promised, he’s not quitting.

As Spot pieces together a plan, his thoughts are interrupted when he hears Y/N exhale softly through their nose. He turns around, preparing to scold them once again, but then hesitates. Y/N’s head was down and tilted sideways with their shoulders dropped low. Spot couldn’t see their face, but he could definitely tell that their eyes were softly shut with their eyebrows creased. It didn’t take a genius for Spot to know that something was on their mind.

It made his heart ache.

“What’s wrong?” Spot asked, calmly.

“I just-!” Y/N began angrily, but then they instantly stop themself, calming down. They take a deep breath.

“I’m just angry.” They said more calmly, “I already told you that.”

“No, no, no, no.” Spot began, “I know you’re angry. But I know how you get when you’re this angry. So come on, tell me.”

Y/N stutters, trying to find an excuse for not tell him, but instantly sighs in defeat. They blink a couple of times in a nervous manner.

“It’s just…” They sighed, “The plan didn’t work at all. We tried so hard, but…it just didn’t work.”

“So what if it didn’t? We’re not quitting are we?” Spot replied. “No!” Y/N replied softly. They wiggled their shoulders in discomfort as they look down sheepishly. Spot looks back at them in confusion. “I have a feeling that’s not the reason why your really mad.” He said, skeptically. Y/N sighed in annoyance. “You’re a scientist, Johnny. Not my therapist.” They groaned. “No, but I am your partner. So just tell me.” He replied.

Y/N sighs rolling their tied shoulders in preparation as they clear their throat, staring blankly at the sky.

“It was the way Spider-Man was acting towards us.” They said.

Spot looks at the side of Y/N’s face as they turned their head to him. He could see the hurt in their eyes as they glanced at him. With the amount of time that the duo have known each other, it was nothing new for Spot to see Y/N like this.

True, it was blatantly obvious that Y/N had a chaotic personality with a fond taste for violence. But the real thing about them is they were very emotional. That was one of the many things that he liked about them. Even though Spot had no problems talking to them about their feelings, Y/N disliked every second of it.

But, even though they didn’t like it…

Y/N would always respect Spot’s wishes.

“Please continue.” Spot said. “It’s the way that he was ignoring us while we were clearly trying to fight him.” Y/N replied, “He barely looked at us and…do I have to keep saying this?”

“Yes.” Spot replied, “Like I said, I’m concerned for your well-being and you’re my sidekick! Am I not allowed to look out for your feelings?”

“Look. I appreciate you looking out for me, but can we at least talk about this later?” Y/N asked.

“Y/N…” Spot warned.

Y/N’s dots began to shift across their body as a faint blush grew on their pale cheeks. They began to have a feeling that this was practically one of the worst days of their lives. They tried their best not to make the dots on their body glow, so they won’t harm Spot. This day was probably more worse than the incident that happened a year ago.

But we can’t be too sure about that.

“Alright…fine.” Y/N sighed. “…I really hate Spider-Man for how he treated us back there. They way he…he clearly didn’t care about what we could do to him! The way he reacted to how our skin looked! But that’s not what’s important…”

Spot looks at them in sympathy and curiosity after their statement. Before he could say anything, Y/N looks back at him. “Look, I’m sorry about how I acted back there.” They said. “I should’ve stayed put and followed your lead.”

“It’s alright-“

“No, seriously! I feel like an ass for punching you in the face back there. I swear I’m gonna kill Spider-Man for that…”

Spot sighed and then chuckled. “Y’know, for someone who loves chaos, I can’t help but admire how emotional you can be sometimes.” He said.

“Johnny, I’m serious. He was going to hurt you and I just…” Y/N trailed off.

Spot faces back forward and slightly drops his shoulders. And awkward silence fills the air as he quietly clears his throat. “Well, you were only doing your job. As a sidekick, that is.” He began. Y/N remains silent. Spot sighs in embarrassment. His first idea was to cheer his friend and sidekick up with words of atonement! But sadly, it didn’t work. “Plus, our powers are pretty much sloppy and unstable, you know?” He pressed on. Y/N still remains silent.

“And this is only our first time acting on our lives of crime! The beginning of our villainy! A-And our first time isn’t always gonna be our best time…right?” Spot quoted.

Y/N turns their head towards him. Spot turns his head to them.

“I guess…” They said, sadly.

Spot could feel the guilt building in his chest as he stared at Y/N’s guilt-ridden dot eyes. Random thoughts run through his head as he comes to a sudden realization. As reckless and hysterical Y/N was, they had a good point about fighting Spider-Man. If he wasn’t so busy talking to Spider-Man and focused on fighting, he would’ve landed a few good blows on him and somewhat succeeded.

Y/N felt the same guilt when they glanced at Spot’s face. Even if his face was completely blank, they could definitely tell that he had a ashamed look on his face. Y/N finally realized. As over-reckoning and meek Spot was, he had a good point about talking to Spider-Man. If Y/N wasn’t so busy trying to fight Spider-Man, they would’ve helped Spot finish his speech to Spider-Man and somewhat succeeded.

Spot and Y/N quickly turn their heads away from each other in embarrassment. They both blush in shame as the realization of their own actions caught up with them.

They were both in the wrong. And they felt bad for that.

“I’m sorry.” Spot and Y/N said at the same time.

They both flinch in shock and look at other again.

“You are? For what?!” They both said at the same time again.

Apologetic babbling overlapped as the two both tried to explain their reasoning, until Spot finally spoke up, breaking the noise.

“You were right about the fighting back there! If I would’ve stopped talking, we would’ve beat him! This is my fault!” Spot exclaimed.

“No, no, no, no. You were the one who was right! If I wasn’t so impatient and angry, we would’ve talked some sense into Spider-Man and won sooner! So, it’s my fault!” Y/N exclaimed.

“None of this would’ve ever happened if I teleported the cashier away like you said! So, it’s my fault!”

“Hey, I’m the one who apologized first! Plus, I literally socked you in the face with my signature Polka-Dot Punch attack and messed things up when you had everything under control! So, it’s my fault!”

“No, this is all my fault!”

“No, this is my fault!”

“No, it’s my fault!”

Here the two were, once again. Bickering back and forth about the dumbest things, like the two silly dorks they were. Insisting to take the blame for their goofy little acts of crime and their common slip ups. After the longest minute of their life, their quotes of insistence of taking the blame for the failed mission slowly turned into…

…the two aggressively complimenting each other.

Trying to convince one another to not take the blame, they both try to spoil each other with the sweetest sayings in the most aggressive way, until one finally breaks and let’s the other take the fault. Now, isn’t that just cute!

“You’re so strong and fearless!” Spot spat, aggressively.

“And you’re so wise and cute!” Y/N spat back, angrily.

“Oh, look at you just complimenting me and all that! Real sweet!”

“What part of ‘you’re so damn precious’ didn’t you understand?!”

“I don’t think angels are supposed to give out compliments, Y/N.”

“Johnathan, I never expected such a handsome angel like you to be partners with me! I don’t deserve you!”

“Yes you do! You deserve the entire universe!”

“I said you’re the angel! That doesn’t mean you should be with me! You deserve more than the universe.”

“Well, you are so effortlessly perfect!”

“And your so effortlessly amazing!”

“I swear to God I love you so much!”

“I love you more, damnit!”

“I love so goddamn much, Y/N!”

“I fucking love you too, Johnny!”

How romantic.

After running out of compliments, the duo sit there in silence once again, out of breath after all the shouting that they’ve done. At this rate, they had nothing else to do or say other than think. They recollected themselves in their minds, while recalling everything they’ve been through today.

They went to a convenient store wearing the most dumbest disguises possible and failed to rob an ATM. Then, Spider-Man shows up and battles them while basically disrespecting the two by being too busy looking at his phone. End up getting trapped in a gainer artificial spider web acquainted with Spot’s portals. And then 2 minutes later, Y/N and him instantly argue about whose fault it is, talk about their feelings, argue once again about taking the blame, and then aggressively comment about how much they love each other.

After a long silence, Spot and Y/N begin to laugh. As frustrating as this day has been, they could both at least admit that it was a bit funny.

After all, nothing seemed to be so bad as long as they had each other around. Y/N stops laughing along with Spot.

“My God,” Y/N laughed, “Did we really just go through that?”

“Yeah. I had no clue that our day would end up like this.” Spot said, giggling at the end. “But still, we’re not quitting, are we?” Y/N cautiously asked.

“No. We’re not.” Spot replied, softly.

Although it wasn’t visible, Y/N smiled gently with Spot following suit. “I guess this wasn’t so bad after all.” Y/N said. “I mean, we’re just trapped in a stupid spider web for only 8 hours, so no biggie!”

“It’s been 4 minutes, Y/N.”

“Oh.”

Spot and Y/N look around themselves, trying to find a way to break free of the sticky webs. “So are you ready to try again?” Spot asked. “Yep! Ready when you are!” Y/N replied, enthusiastically. Spot smiles fondly at them, as he pieces together a plan.

“So how do we get out of here?” Y/N asked, looking towards him. He hums under his breath as he looks at Y/N and his left hands, tied up together in one portal. He then realizes that their left hands are pointing towards the center of the web where their upper bodies were tied up together. And idea comes to his head.

“Ok, Y/N. Can you try to summon some dots on your left hand to burn the webs around us?” He asked. “Where’s our left hands?” They asked. Spot gestures his head to Y/N’s right. “On your right!” He said. Y/N looks and prepares their left hand, pointing out their index finger.

The multicolored dots on Y/N left hand began to shift and glow brighter every second. The dots gather towards the end of their index finger like the blobs of a glowing lava lamp.

Glowing brighter than ever, Y/N prepares to fire, only to hesitate. “Johnathan, this might sting a little.” They said, cautiously. “It’s alright,” He replied, “Just do it.”

Y/N nods before shooting out a thin glowing ray of rainbow dots out of their finger. The frenzy mixture of colors touch the nearest web, making an innocent popping sound as the ropes begin to melt like butter spreading across the web.

The duo are finally set free the webs tied to their upper bodies melt off. Spot slightly hisses in pain as the hot liquid sticks to his upper arm. Pulling their arms out of the small portals, Spot closes them as the duo fall through the largest portal in the center, crashing on the ground.

“We did it!” Y/N cheered. “Hey, Johnny are you alright?”

Spot sits up and gives a thumbs up. “Yeah, I’m alright! Good work, Y/N.” He said.

He quickly stands up and helps Y/N up. After standing up, the duo hold hands as they look at each other and nod.

“So,” Y/N asked, “What happens now?”

“We’ll try to rob another ATM machine.” Spot answered.

“And this time, we try to do it right.”

@moanutt

#across the spiderverse #funny #the spot x reader #spot x reader #chaotic duo #gender neutral reader #gn reader #the spot spiderverse #the reader has powers #johnathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader

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numberonetinabelcherdefender · 2 months

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i've got 3 artworks for @seemoreseymoursbay day 4 because i did nothing for tomorrow!!

Platonic Relationship Day

first up tina and susmita!!! this one is a scene from my gene death fic, mentioned in yesterday's post.

tina needs a best friend, especially because the friends in her group really aren't great most of the time. and ever since her introduction in season nine's UFO No You Didn't, susmita seems like the PERFECT person to fulfill that role! i love their friendship and feel like susmita should be a far more prominent character than she is. gene and louise have established best friends, AND TINA DOESNT PLEASE

I TOLD YOU YOUD SEE DARRYL AGAIN AND OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS DUO SO MUCH

i won't waste much time explaining why, i'll just drop two clips from season four's Fort Night. darryl and louise's dynamic in that episode is fucking golden and i wish they brought it back even just once

another screenshot redraw! might be my favorite piece of the week lmao.

THIS TRIO IS SO FUCKING GOOD OKAY and the reason i love them so much is season six's Stand By Gene, the episode the screenshot is from. a year ago i compiled their scenes in that ep and posted the video right here, if you want to see why exactly im this crazy about them. (it's only a minute long and i'm mad about it) they're fucking hilarious and simply wonderful i hope they hang out like this again

not to mention that jimmy jr and jocelyn were the original ‼️ friends ‼️ before tammy came along! they were hanging out a whole season before that bitch's introduction. i like to think that even after both tammy and zeke moved to seymour's bay and became best friends with jocelyn and jimmy jr respectively, jocelyn and jimmy jr still hang out often. maybe even have some girly sleepovers together. definitely watching romcoms or hallmark movies during the holidays. and they DEFINITELY gossip and talk shit together (about tammy a lot too). she's like the sister he never had!!

#bob's burgers #smsw #tina belcher #susmita bobs burgers #louise belcher #darryl bobs burgers #jocelyn bobs burgers #jimmy jr #tammy larsen

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gfguren · 8 months

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hidan x (fem) reader x kakazu | smut, plot if you squint, back on my hidan delulus, morally questionable reader with an even more morally question duo | cw: cursing, choking, biting, voyeurism, imbalanced power dynamic, mentions of blood and human bounties

-hidan and kakazu make a bet at your expense-

You're an enigma; sweet, addicting like sugar, an angel wandering through the hell that is this hole in the wall. And you smile at them, everytime, as if there's not a half lifeless body slung over Hidan's shoulder, as if Kakazu's stare isn't cold enough to freeze hell twice over. Hidan wonders how a thing like you ended up here, something about debts and making ends meet and he doesn't really get it, but what he does know is that he burns to get you in his bed, itches to make the sweet thing that is you cry.

And he's certainly not subtle about it.

"What a pain," Hidan slings the unconscious stranger from one shoulder to the other, effortlessly, as if he weighs nothing at all. "Did they say he had to be in one piece? He'd certainly be lighter without an arm or two."

"So will you if you fuck with my bounty." Kakazu's voice is gruff, adding a disgruntled, "We're almost there, shut up and keep walking."

Kakazu doesn't miss the slew of curses Hidan spouts but chooses to ignore them, for now. "At least we get to see our sweet girl."

"Our?" Kakazu snorts.

"Admit it, you old bastard. I see the way you look at her."

"It's business." Kakazu is firm, unwavering as if he believes his own lie. "That's all."

"Well that 'business' is going to be in my bed tonight, join us or don't, I guess."

Kakazu considers ignoring him, settling on an unconvincing, "Not interested."

Hidan leans close to his partner, and Kakazu has to restrain himself from pummeling him to the forest floor when he jabs a bony elbow between his ribs. "Bet you 500 ryo I'll make her cry."

Kakazu grunts, an almost amused sound that doesn't sound too much like a no and Hidan grins even when the larger man pushes him aside, sure that he's finally got him hooked. Now all he has to do is reel, or just shut up until they arrive. A daunting task, truly.

The bounty shop, if you can call this downtrodden hole in the wall that, is peaceful tonight, it usually is when all the smaller bounties have been filled, and all that's left are the hardened, big name criminals that are more or less a death wish. But they pay well, extremely well, and only two types of people ever take them, or at least make it back to you in one peace: the desperate, and the crazy. And there are exactly two people you know in the latter category; it's for that exact reason you're excited, watching, waiting, tapping your fingers against the counter in anxious anticipation.

Maybe they're not crazy, just stupidly strong, you're still unsure after all this time. But you know they're mysterious, fun, attractive as all hell, unlike the creepy, leering men that usually come around, leer over you but would never dare touch you, because you're his - Kakazu's little broker. More precisely, you're a means to an end, to his money, and nobody fucks with Kakazu's money, and lives that is.

The only one with the gall to touch you is Hidan, brazenly rash, maybe stupid, but Kakazu doesn't seem to mind. Neither do you, really. And you suppose they can be that way too sometimes, leering, hungry, predatory as if they'll devour you in a single, wolfish gulp - but only if you say please.

And you would, by the gods you would.

The door swings open, the rickety thing nearly falling from it's hinges when it slams against the wall with a not too subtle - bang! You jump, heart settling only when Hidan's bickering echoes down hall. Neither heaven nor hell can shut him up when he gets like that, but when he turns the corner, maroon eyes locking with yours, wide like startled doe, his mouth shuts in an instant. He doesn't miss a beat, skulking over to you with that smarmy grin of his, and leaning over the counter. You could mimic the words about to leave his lips, in the exact tone and inflection, if you wanted to.

"Busy tonight, baby?"

Your smile is a genuine one, the rare kind that you save in a jar, spend only in their presence. You point at the body slung over his shoulder. "I am now."

"And after?"

You hum, pretend to think as you shuffle through records, doing your best to match the bounty's mangled face with the one on the page. "Dunno. What's it to you, stranger?"

He's clearly amused, bounty slipping from his shoulder and onto the floor. Your protest catches in your throat when Hidan all but leaps over the counter, the flimsy manila folder in your palms quickly becoming the only thing between your body and his. "I've seen a bit too much of you to be called a stranger, yeah?"

His hands wander beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers leaving a burning trail up your spine. You shudder. "Who are you again?"

He laughs, "The type to hold a grudge, I see."

"You left me alone that night, after you - after we - I thought..."

"Did you think I didn't want you?" He's not subtle about the way he gropes your curves, all but humps your thigh. "Baby, I would have devoured you."

Your face is burning, acutely aware of the second pair of eyes staring you down, but he's not fazed a bit, leaning in until his lips slant over your own. "You're just lucky the old bastard barged in, him and his damn bounties." The glare he shoots Kakazu is smoldering but short lived, and he leans in to whisper against your ear, "Really, I just think he was jealous."

"I can hear you," Kakazu grunts, prodding at the bounty with the toe of his boot, making sure he's still breathing, at least.

Hidan ignores him.

"But since you're so hot about it, let me make it up to you, yeah?" He's suckling at your neck, enticing you like honey, encouraging you to drink, drink, drink. "Promise I'll make it worth your while."

And you swallow every last drop, knowing full well it's poison.

Hidan's hands are still bloody when he strips you, pushes you down on the disheveled futon and leers over you, eyes clouded with lust. But you're not complaining, not that you could with one of his big hands wrapped around the base of your throat, the other between your legs, three fingers deep inside of you. His grin is borderline sinister when he curls his fingers, watches you squirm beneath him like the sweet, pathetic thing that you are.

He has half a mind to grant you mercy, but only half; the other itches to devour you, excites at the thought of sinking his teeth in your throat and spilling your pretty red blood all over the sheets - and that half nearly wins, saved only by Kakazu, grunting a displeased sound from the corner of the room when he tries.

Hidan settles on an almost painful trail of violet instead, granting you breathing room just long enough to press his rough fingers against the bruises blooming beneath the curve of your jaw.

You whimper, a pathetic sound that teeters on a plea, desperate gaze meeting Kakazu's bored one; he's lazing in the worn armchair, a relic of this rundown inn that's perfectly normal sized but entirely too small beneath him, dwarfed by his goliath-like stature. You're not sure why he tagged along, trudging in the shadow of Hidan's excited silhouette without a single word or notable flicker of interest.

Still you're not complaining, you'd lay down your life for him - it's belonged to him for a long time anyway - so if he wanted to touch you, take you, consume your entire being and hold it hostage, teetering on the mercy of his whims -

You'd let him, if only he asked.

He's only watching, Hidan had said so, and honestly a part of you is disappointed; you'd be lying if you said you didn't find him intriguing, hellishly attractive, hadn't fantasized about him touching you with those big, rough hands of his that had taken so many lives, but deigned to save that of your insignificant one - even if it was only for his benefit.

He saved you, used you for his own gain and you knew it well enough from the beginning, but it didn't matter, not to you; you were able to escape from the war torn streets, given a reason to live when you had lost everything, even gained a strange sense of companionship with the detached, lumbering stranger, not quite friendly, romantic, or measurable in any sense of the word; just kind of there.

Unlike the odd, semi-tangible affair with that of his hot tempered companion, who couldn't hide a single thought, emotion, or desire if he tried - which you'd bet a pretty penny he never had.

He's passionate, and hot, and you're attracted to him in every sense of the word, but there's also a place in your chest that's he's crept into, taken refuge in Kakazu's shadow. And you know there's no place like that for you in their twisted, brambled hearts - perhaps you're still that street urchin Kakazu found all those years ago, begging for scraps of their affection.

"I thought you were going to make her cry, but you can't even keep her attention." The gravel of Kakazu's voice draws you back, grounds you to reality where Hidan's calloused fingers delve deeper, rougher and borderline feral at his taunt, vision blurry from his hand around your throat; but when he stands to leave, seemingly bored, Hidan's quick to pull his fingers from your core entirely, leaving you to feel empty and wanting, clenching around nothing in his absence.

"You're so damn impatient, fine." He coaxes your mouth open, presses his digits, still coated in your slick, against your own tongue. "Wanted to take my time with you, savor you," his breath is hot against your face, fingers prodding deeper, deeper, deeper until you're gagging, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. "Kakazu never did understand showing reverence, taking the time to worship and praise and adore something, other than his own damn wallet that is." He retrieves his hand, leaving you gasping for air as he wipes your saliva across the hollow of your cheek. "Guess I'll have to devote myself to you in another way, I'll be sure to keep your attention this time."

You're still reeling when Hidan's head dips, disappears between your thighs until you're gasping, fingers tangled in his silver strands of hair.

You moan an exasperated and breathless, "Hidan."

And it excites him more than he cares to admit, spurs him on, has your eyes rolling back when he flattens his tongue against your sex, teeth grazing your folds.

His big hands spread your thighs, holds them apart in their bruising grip when you try to close them around his head, overstimulated with pleasure. And the bastard laughs, laughs when you try to pull away, whimpering pathetically when he circles your clit with the flat of his tongue. You nearly cum right then and there when he glances up at you, maroon eyes clouded with lust, shadowed beneath his dark lashes.

He smirks, lips coated in your slick. "Finally got your attention?"

"Don't get cocky," you sigh, absentmindedly running a hand through his tussled hair. It's gentle and intimate almost, and he's quick to grab your wrist, nipping at your pulse just to feel it stutter.

"Careful, I might get curious if you're just as sweet when you bleed."

The implication terrifies you, because that's not a bluff, not to people, criminals, fanatics like Hidan - but it also excites something inside of you, has your thighs clenching around nothing like a depraved virgin.

"Ooh-ho, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" His grin spreads across your skin, disappearing between your thighs. "Gonna have to take that up with Kakazu." He fits two fingers inside of you, curling them until your eyes wrench shut and your back arches against the futon. "He'd have my head if I hurt his pretty little meal ticket, so I won't-" He adds another, stretches you around his thick digits, breath hot against your core when he mutters a suggestive, "not too much, anyway."

It's sinful the way his lips wrap around your clit, the squelching of his tongue and fingers working you over would have you blushing had you not been seeing stars, white hot pleasure coursing through you when he finds that spot that turns those stars to gunpowder. And he sets you alights, doesn't stop even when your thighs clench around his ears, fingernails leaving red hot streaks across his shoulders.

Tears have gathered in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall - but not quite - when he finally pulls away, snakes his way up your body and grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He examines you, runs the flat of his palms across your dry cheeks. "Tough little thing are you?"

He shoots a glance at Kakazu, still lounging in the armchair, arms crossed like he couldn't care less, but you catch the way his eyes have darkened, the shadow of a bulge straining against his pants, the way he tap, tap, taps a painted fingertip against the straining muscles of his bicep.

Almost like he's waiting.

"Come on, sweet," Hidan drawls, flipping you over like you weigh nothing at all. "Cry for me, will ya?"

"What do you - mmph!" He's not gentle about the way he shoves your face into the cushion, shoves himself against the swell of your ass, dry humping you through his sweats.

"So pretty, and sweet," he groans against your ear, freeing himself from the confines of his sweats, pumping himself one, twice, three times before burying his cock inside you. "That's it, so soft."

You lurch forward, clawing at the covers, vying for sweet reprieve, but he wraps his big hand around your jaw, pulls you back until his teeth graze your throat. "Makes me wanna ruin you." You expect him to bite, surprised by the hot, desperate kisses he presses against your jaw, your throat, the curve of your shoulder. It's hypnotizing, erotic, romantic almost, but of course he's only testing you, tasting you, searching for the best place for the point of his canines, the bite of his teeth. There's a flash of crazed sanguine eyes, and he tastes your blood on his tongue.

He moans, lewd and desperate and loud, loud enough to drown out the sound of your own cries, loud enough to make you blush at the thought of people hearing it in the next room over. His grip on your jaw is bruising, you think it might just pop, eyes rolling back in your skull when his hips meet yours in rough tempo. You sink your nails in the tender flesh of his wrist, half sure you've drawn blood, hoping he'll ease up, if only a little.

It only seems to spur him on.

You crane your head as best you can beneath the crushing weight of Hidan's palm, flash a pleading glance at Kakazu, surely he wouldn't let him go too far, right? Hidan said so himself.

But his eyes are cold, vacant, an indifferent green that bores right through you like you mean nothing at all, like you're a bug not worthy of being crushed beneath his boot. It gives you butterflies.

"Don't give him that look, baby." Hidan squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and ring finger, angling your chin until he can force his mouth against yours. You can taste your blood on his tongue. "Said I wasn't gonna hurt ya, didn't I? See-" He rocks his hips against yours, faster, faster, until he finds a pace that has you reeling, keeling over when hits that spot that has you seeing stars. "You're fine."

Fine? Perhaps. Maybe if he hadn't leaned over you, hadn't snaked a big arm between your legs to find your sweet spot, rubbed it between thick, calloused fingers as if you weren't already on the cusp of tumbling head first into sweet oblivion. Had his thrusts not grown erratic, feral and bruising like a wild animal. But now? Now you're fucked. It feels good, too good, like you're at the peak of sugar rush but it goes higher, higher still until you're a shaking mess of limbs and and lust and stupor.

"Stop, Hidan fuck, stop!" Your whole body is trembling, hands weakly pushing at his wrist that's dead set on forcing you over the edge once more. "Stop, ha-aah!"

You crash again, clenching around his cock in waves that are so intense they're almost painful and before you know it, the world has become a blur of watercolors. There's a ringing in your ears but in the incessant buzzing is the distant, almost sinister cackle of Hidan's laughter. You don't have the time or the mind to be confused; a rough hand cups your chin and wrenches your head up to meet Kakazu's blazing stare.

"That's 500 ryo old man." His hips pound into yours with renewed fervor. "Fuck, Hah-" He throws his head back, fingers surely leaving bruises where they lay. "She's so pretty when she cries, isn't she Kakazu? Might have t-aah." He sucks in a breath, hips stuttering. "Might have to make her cry all the time, yeah?"

Your brain is short circuiting but still, his words ring in your ears, did they bet on you? The bastards. You're worth more than 500 ryo, surely.

Kakazu says nothing, arms crossed against his broad chest. He's calm, suspiciously so given the circumstances, lips set in a thin, firm line. Hidan pulls out with groan, pumping his release over your back in thick, hot ropes. His free hand pushes back the hair stuck to the sweat of his forehead. "What's wrong, old man? Was the show worth the money or something?"

Kakazu only chuckles, deep and low, vibrato shooting tingles down your spine and straight to your pussy. "You call that crying?" He stands, taking one step, then two, and you're quick to sit up, head reeling as you scramble backwards - but he's faster, hand snatching your chin, turning your head this way and that, thumbs digging your cheeks almost painfully. "-just because there's a tear or two?" His eyes piece straight through you, cold, calculated, like a snake about to strike. "C'mere, I'll show you crying."

You're all but dragged off the futon and forced to your knees in front of the armchair, rough fingers tangled in your hair. "Kakazu I can't, I-"

"Don't worry." His words certainly don't inspire confidence, free hand pushing down his pants until his cock springs free, slapping dramatically against his stomach. "Unlike Hidan, I'm not interested in making you cum."

Your mouth goes dry, his girth alone is nearly twice that of Hidan's, and that's to say nothing of the length and the bold, angry vein along the underside and - and -

"Open your mouth." It's certainly an order, not a suggestion - but you hesitate, still reeling from the shock. His fingers tighten, angling your head painfully until you whimper. "I don't like to repeat myself."

You part your lips, fear and excitement turning your stomach, and the very moment he deigns he can fit, he's forcing himself against your tongue, tip hitting the back of your throat in a single, selfish stroke. You gag, reeling back only an inch before Kakazu's pushing you back down, dark pubic hair tickling the tip of your nose. You can't breathe, fat tears stinging your eyes and rolling down your cheeks as your hands push desperately against his thighs.

"That's cheating, Kakazu!" The shrill of Hidan's voice is lost in your drumming ears.

"How can I be cheating-" you can almost hear the smirk in Kakazu's voice. "-when I haven't even started?"

#hidan #kakazu #naruto #naruto x reader #hidan x reader #kakazu x reader #akatsuki x reader #naruto x you #hidan x you #kakazu x you #naruto x y/n #hidan x y/n #kakazu x y/n #naruto smut #im h*rny and on my period im sorry lol

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captainpricelover · 10 months

Text

You're a cunt

Philip Graves x f!reader

Wordcount- 1.1k

Warnings: Smut!! Oral f! receiving, P in V sex, slightly rough sex, Philip fucks you against a wall.

Names used: Baby, sweetheart

You and Graves had been hooking up on the down low, so you were more shocked than anyone when he decides to betray you. You stick with your task force, you escape with Soap and Ghost into the nearby city. When your split up from the duo you hide away in a house trying to fix your broken radio, your life is only made worse when Philip decides to enter that very same house.

You stumble up the stairs to the bedroom of the random townhouse where you made your temporary shelter. Outside, the sounds of the shadow company’s radio crackling remind you of your own, you look down at your tactical vest only to find your radio split into multiple pieces, thank god it's still fixable all you need is some duct tape. Instantly, you open all the drawers and check under the bed for some. You get to the nightstands, one had some pills and reading glasses while the other has some handcuffs, you originally were a bit disgusted until you notice a roll of duct tape underneath them. Thank god for kinky people. The pieces of the radio slowly come together like a puzzle you was so close to taping it all up when you hear footsteps. Shit. You panic and immediately rush under the bed. The footsteps get louder and you begin to control your breathing. The door opens, then shuts. Only one step of footsteps can be heard.

“Come on out, baby.” You can recognise that Southern accent anywhere.

He drops himself to the floor right in front of you. Those blue eyes staring into your soul.

“You’re a cunt.” You say

“Aww I missed you too, sugar,” He smirks “Now are you going to come out or am I going to have to drag you?”

You slowly shimmy your way out so that you now standing on the opposite side of the bed.

“I wished you picked the second option, you know I like to watch you struggle,”

“So are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room,”

“I don’t see an eleph-”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” You scream

“Don’t do that, you’re going to draw so much attention over here,”

“Philip you ordered your men to shoot me,” You say in a much quieter voice.

“I did my job.”

“Last night you told me that you loved me!”

You could cut the tension with a knife. Silent surrounds you both. Tears fill your eyes, slightly blurring your vision.

“Look, I am sorry, I have my orders. I need to follow them.”

“You could have told me,”

“So you could go and tell your friends.”

You walk around the bed to face him. His eyes fixate on you as you walk. They dart up and down your body taking in every last detail. All the words you want to say get caught on the tip of the tongue. You loved Philip, truly. He was kind and he cared for you, also the fact he was the CEO of a shadow company meant he was loaded and not to mention the mind-blowing sex. But the moment when he took over Alejandro’s base shattered your heart into a thousand pieces, you were hoping that after this whole missile crisis was over you would get into an actual relationship. You’re brought out of your thoughts by Philips's lips crashing into yours. His hands grab your hips and he crashes them against the wall. Your tounges fight for dominance but you quickly allow him to take over. He pressed his groin against you. The tent in his trousers is large. He breaks the kiss

“Let me try and make it up to you,”

His hands make quick work of your utility belt as it drops to the floor not a second later. Your zipper is undone and before you can realise your panties and trousers are around your ankles and Philips’s face is shoved against your pussy furiously sucking on your clit. Your fingers find their way to the crown of his head as you grip his brown locks. Two of his fingers tease your entrance as his tongue glides between your folds. He’s good. He eats you out like a starved man. When his index and middle finger finally enter you they instantly begin to attack your G-spot. Philip’s fingers pump in and out of you quickly making you become undone. Suddenly, he stops. You let out a whine.

“Don’t worry baby,”

He attempts to comfort you and he undoes his zipper and pulls his cock out of his boxers. Philips stand up, he practically towers over you, and his hands find their way to the back of your thighs where his fingers grip the flesh. He picks you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. Your back smashes against the wall as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

“You going to kill me or arrest me after this?” You ask

“Depends on how good you are for me,”

He smirks before slamming the entire length of his manhood into you, hitting your cervix. A moan almost escapes your lips but is stopped by his hand covering your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet sweetheart,”

He states before thrusting in and out of you. The sounds of his balls slapping against you and your muffled moans fill the room. Your arms wrap around his neck, clinging on to him for dear life as he slams his cock in and out of your pussy.

“I’m gonna c-cum, Graves!” You mumble under his hand

“Cum for me,” He practically growls. You cum immediately after he says that. Your grip becomes loose while his hold on you becomes stronger. His thrusts become rougher and more frantic. Philip places small kisses on your cheek before you feel hot strings of cum pouring out inside you. He pulls out slowly before sitting you down on the edge of the bed.

“Do you need help with your pants?” He asks with genuine concern.

“I’ve got it,” You go to pull them up but before you can, Philip’s hand presses against your inner thigh with a tissue cleaning up his mess. He shoots you a smile before helping you pull up your pants.

“I didn't need your help,”

Philips's lips open, he's about to say something but he stops as your radio crackles. It's Simon asking for your yours or Ghost’s location. Your duct tape idea actually worked. His expression changes as he remembers his missions and what he needs to do. A sigh escapes his lips as he pinches the bridge of his name. He stares at you for a minute but it felt like an eternity.

“Go, now.”

You are about to say something but you instead put your utility belt back before claiming out the window and into the cold, rainy town to reunite with Ghost and Soap.

#philip graves #philip graves x reader #cod #cod mw2 #graves mw2 #graves mwii #graves x reader #graves x you #graves call of duty

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asexualzoro · 5 months

Text

it's december 9th, meaning today is my 23rd birthday (which is my favorite number!), which means it's time for...

Lew Writes Wrapped 2023!!!

im including anything that happened after my last bday, so we have some works from december as well. this one's a bit of a weird one for the total word count, you'll see why

it's all treebark from my sideblog / alt ao3. i cannot change. i will not change. for these im just gonna specify the relationship that's the main focus bc thats easier than fandom bc all but like one are third life

dandelion wishing

(Dec, 2.4k, treebark, oneshot) (link)

op movie 6 au for dogwarts in which Martyn is the baron and Ren doesn't know he's dead

id actually plotted out a whole third life au for this movie like months prior and really wanted to write it, so i took it for treebark week and focused it just on these two. it's my fave movie of all time and i obvs had to give it to my fave completely dead team <3

i will admit tho. it did make me back search martyns twitter to see if hes ever posted abt watching this movie. bc i know he likes One Piece and i realized this would bring me into the danger zone (he hasnt ever posted abt it if hes seen it)

A Romance Route for the Doomed Villain?!?

(Dec, 5k, treebark, oneshot) (link)

treebark dating sim isekai parody that spiraled out of my control made in a day-long possession

im still baffled by this one. why was the response to this one so insane?? there was smth in the water the day i posted this bro. a 1:2 kudos to hits ratio for the entire first day is literally fucking unbelievable. 70 comments?? what hold did this fic have on you people. i got fic written about this one?? my friends goncharov'd me in front of my face

really fucking fun to write and the insane response was smth im always gonna remember. i appreciate you guys so much

treesekai also turns a year old in a few days!

Until the Angels Realize You're Not One of Them

(Feb, 7.2k, emerald duo, oneshot) (link)

a traitor phil au which was mostly just me talking about all the reasons i love technoblade

this one... wasnt actually written this year for the most part? i didnt want to not acknowledge it, since it's on my ao3 in this year, but i wont be able to count it toward the total

still. traitor phil au my beloved. hearing him say on his stream he and techno wanted to do a betrayal arc made me feel insane bc i already had this written at the time

missing or obstructed

(2022-present, 12.9k, Grian & Ren, ongoing) (link)

post 3L fic about Ren and Grian seeking out closure with a lot of funny little sleep metaphors

same deal as the last fic, i, uh dont think i actually wrote anything new for missing or obstructed this year either? just uploaded chapters i wrote last year,,, i didnt wanna now acknowledge it, but i wont count this in my total later

i miss her. one day ill actually sit down and write more missing or obstructed. in my doc im JUST at introducing Martyn and i havent written it yet

to reach my mangled debut

(Sept, 4.2k, treebark week, ongoing) (link)

it wouldnt be me if i didnt have an execution somewhere in here. another op au!

THIS. I LOVE HER. when rev and i were plotting out the whole storyline for smop renchanting i was begging please give me this scene i need it and i had so much fun writing it. i rlly need to finish soon but i haven’t had time but please. please check out smop. she’s top of my priority list to update

Three-Dog Night

(Sept, 6.7k, treebark week, oneshot) (link)

BIG DOG. beauty and the beast au!

god im so fond of this au. there’s some rlly good scenes written for this and unposted bc i just need to link them together. honestly i think if i took a month and focused it on this fic alone i could fucking finish it but i don’t have the time ;-;

that said i’m so enamored w this au genuinely. o dunno what else to say i just think. puppy

Cover Me In Roses

(Sept, 3.3k, treebark week, oneshot) (link)

lamplight roleswap! put Martyn in a flower pot

i don’t feel as motivated to work on this one when i have lamplight unfinished so it’s lower on my priorities but know i have like an entire arc of this written and unposted. we just have a few paths for this one and i have to decide which one to use

it’s so wild to me lamplight has like. aus. like this isn’t even the only one? a roleswap. that’s insane? it’s wild that you all like lamplight enough i can even get away with this

First Sign of a House Fire

(Sept, 2k, treebark week, oneshot) (link)

i love superhero stories for two reasons: plots about secrets and adapting the characters to give them powers. this had smth fun for both of them

yellow rose isn’t super high on my list of priorities to update (i think the oneshot is interesting on its own) but one day,,,, it’s part of the many aus cherri and i have but it’s the longest for sure. the doc for just this au is like 100k words long on its own. at the time i draft this cherri and i are actively writing smth else for it in another tab. theres like 4 offshoots and im obsessed w all of them. we had to make ocs about this one. i’m excited to eventually add more to this series

actually that’s one of the scenes i’m most excited for and most dreading adding. we made a backstory oc and im SO attached to him and im excited to post a thing out there w him but. ough. whatever cringe is dead i’ll get there eventually and brute force my way into attaching you to our funky little robot guy

also love that this fic forced me to be decided on a docv characterization that i have to stick to. he may be a canon guy to martyn’s vtuber lore but he’s my oc now too

Blindsided

(Sept, 2k, treebark week, ongoing) (link)

pirate au and royal au based on a big secret and also stuffing a guy in a box and it's all stupid dramatic literally what else do you want or need in life

this is my wife. my favorite. my most beloved. blindsided gives me new illnesses and diseases. i have just one scene to write before i can update it and then i can continue unleashing her. god i love this fic the drama of it is SO fun.

the funny thing abt blindsided is i know all the plot chronologically but now how to Present it which is part of why i haven’t continued too much. eventually i will but until then know that one of the scenes im sitting on which has been fully written is one i think about constantly. hopefully when i post it cherri’ll let free the comic she did for it

i actually have the ending of this fic written i just need to get there lmfao. second on my priority list after smop i think

Cradle of the Leviathan

(Sept, 1.5k, treebark week, oneshot) (link)

i just love mer aus man. whats the point of it all if you cant have mer aus. just get a big ol fish

i have the ending of this au written as well and literally so little of the lead up. but this is pretty low on my priorities. i think this one stands just fine on its own. mer aus are nice like that

we actually have a few mer aus but for now i’ll be focusing on this one. i do have a few sweet post story things written for this one. maybe one day i’ll write enough to post em lmao

Lamplight AU

(2022-present, 47k, treebark, ongoing) (link)

renchanting dnd/fantasy au, martyn's a paladin and ren's a lamp

so i started this au last year. my wrapped last year said my total was 20k, so that means this year's total is.... 27k!

and… it was just lamplight’s birthday and i did all my appreciation for the fic and its readers then, but god. i love this fic so much and i love you all who have read it and been so kind about it. the amount of popularity it has makes it a bit nerve wracking to work on, but i still really want to see it finished. i hope to see the bulk of it done by this time next year!

Six Sentence Sunday

six sentence sunday is a challenge where i try to post six sentences i wrote that week every sunday, to keep me writing every week of the year! i do it over on my writing blog, @driflew

i did not keep up on my six sentences,,, i had a lot of sunday fencing tournaments. i did for ~33 weeks this year! thats a pretty good amount! i’ll have to be more on top of it next year tho

unpublished work

the last few years i havent included unpublished work, but with the extreme bulk of it, i wanted to note it down. cherri @/cherrifire and i have been writing a lot back and forth at each other in discord dms this year, and i wanted to include those in my count! bc holy fucking shit is there a lot of them

i didn’t include collab pieces, just pieces i wrote alone. i also only included the renchanting aus i share w cherri and scarian aus i share w flowey, nothing else—no unfinished lamplight or other independent pieces or oneshots, no original fiction for class, nothing. i also missed a few u haven’t moved to docs yet. so i’m lowballing by a few. thousands. of words

the total for those is...... 135k words! there is,,, something wrong with me

total and end notes

our total this year is...

187512 words!

that might be my highest word count yet! because i caught treebark disease. wild.

something really fun about this year to me is i really loved everything i wrote.

if you want to get me a gift or support me on my birthday… maybe try reading my work and reblogging it or leaving a comment! you can find my writing at driflew or skelew on ao3, follow my writing blog at @driflew, or even consider tipping my kofi!

thank you for sticking with me and supporting me this year! i really appreciate it! hopefully i can break 100k next year too!

#lew writes wrapped #lew writes

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genshrineimpact · 2 years

Text

⬙⤠ masterlist ⤝⬙

god of war! reader series ◇ character voicelines (script version)

(alternatively, the live version can be found here)

𐃆 Zhongli

| About [name]

Why, of course I know of [name]. I would hope that I know my spouse quite well, considering the time we've spent together. They might look cold at first, but if you continue to observe them for a while, you will see that they are an endearing person. Though their tone and expression might seem indifferent, there are certain ticks one will discover if they have a keen pair of eyes. They are a great joy to be around, I promise you. Why don't you drop by our abode some time, perhaps for dinner?

Hm, wonderful. I shall relay the good news to [name]. Ah, before that, just to be sure… you do not eat rocks nor blood, do you?

| About [deity_name]

You speak of the god of war, yes? I see you have done your research. Diligent as always, Traveler.

To answer your curiosity - yes, my dearest held this name prior to the rite of descension. They knew of my plan to step down as an archon, and agreed to spend the rest of our lives walking among mortals. So far, it seems like they are adjusting to it and enjoying it quite well. The other day, they enthused me about this new aromatic drink imported from Sumeru. It seems like the drink gave them a boost of energy and a rush of adrenaline just from a few sips-

Oh? You can't imagine them being enthusiastic about something? chuckle You see, it is quite simple. Their eyes will widen for about three to five millimeters. Their posture will hunch slightly, and their arms are likely to be moving in one way or another. Their voice pitch with increase, and their speech pattern will usually…

Ah… Dear me, my apologies. You look just like my companions whenever they feel that I have talked a little too much about my dearest. I suppose whenever it comes to them, I tend to go a little too… passionate, for most people's tastes.

| Rex Lapis and [deity_name]

laugh Well, that brings back memories. I suppose you heard of those tales while you were watching Miss Yun Jin's opera? Or perhaps it was the storytellers?

I cannot say that they are completely wrong - though some details have been quite… romanticized, or read into for a little too much.

For example, about giving pebbles to show a romantic interest in someone. I had not given it because I desired for them to 'have a piece of me to always be by their side'. I simply thought they were lovely to look at, and I wished to make them smile.

Although, their theory about how knives being exchanged upon a couple's union in marriage was almost accurate. To be completely precise, on our one thousand year anniversary, [name] gifted me with a crafted and personally blessed knife that can cut down a god. This was a gesture of faith and conviction. As the god of war, this was the best present they could have given me. I treasure the weapon to this day…. Ah, how nostalgic…

Hm? Are you interested in this weapon, Traveler? Haha, I'm afraid I cannot abide by your request this time. However, I can certainly ask [name] to perhaps bless a weapon of your preference. In their hands, even a dull blade can become a deadly weapon. I trust you will look after it with the utmost care and will refrain from using it for nefarious purposes.

| Xiao and [deity_name]

The young adepti certainly seems to look up to [name], does he not? I think there are certain things that make them connect on a spiritual level. For this, I couldn't be anything less than overjoyed. Though he might deny the notion of needing any sort of social interaction and personal interrelationship, I believe it is good for him to interact more with others, be it with mortals or adepti. Would you be so kind as to tell me about how he's doing, if you had the chance to visit Wangshu Inn recently?

| The sibling adepti

I see you've met the children. They're quite the interesting duo, aren't they? Fiercely loyal to a fault, too. How did your first meeting go? I hope they did not intimidate you - I promise they only mean well.

Oh? They told you to tell me that? Dear me, no matter how many centuries pass, it seems like I will never gain their complete trust. laugh I suppose they are feeling a little lonely. It is true that it has been a while since we last visited. I should plan for it with [name], then. Thank you for relaying their message.

| Hungry Ghost Festival

My apologies, I have a rather urgent business that requires my utmost attention. Could we perhaps reconvene at a later date?

| About the god of sun

Ah… Where did you hear about them?

I see. You visited Qingyun Peak, then… sigh

… Yes, as you surmised. The god of sun was [deity_name]'s closest companion, back when they were much younger. I'm afraid it is not my place to tell this story, however. The God of Sun, Invictus… This is quite a heavy topic for my dearest. Please, take great care in approaching them and when you ask about it, do not push them if they refuse to tell you. Perhaps in due time, they will recount the tale to you.

| About [name] 2

Speaking of [name], they have been subtly hinting to me that you are welcome to visit our abode anytime. It seems like you've helped them greatly the last time you met them. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your kindness. They tend to overexert themselves sometimes, despite knowing that doing so isn't good for them. sigh It is truly worrying.

Hm? You will help in watching over [name] whenever you see them, you say? chuckle Why, thank you. You are quite the kind soul, Traveler.

If you need some help on your commissions, please do not hesitate to ask for my help. I am quite confident I should be able to assist you in your quests.

| About [deity_name] 2

Their god form? Hm, it is truly a magnificent sight to witness. They command attention and exude power on the battlefield. Most of the time, their enemies do not dare to lock eyes with them, for they will only see the fierce glare of a tiger, and they will despair knowing that their life will end in vain.

Their beast form is such a wonder to behold, too. Though they do not use it as often, because of this fact also, it strikes the utmost mental damage whenever it is released upon the battleground. The way their white and black striped fur are tainted with blood strikes fear to the opposing soldiers yet raises the fighting spirit of their own army.

Oh, does your traveling companion find these descriptions too scary? My apologies, little one. But you do not need to worry; they are all but stories of the past. I do not foresee you will bear witness to such sights, unless danger threatens to destroy Liyue and the Qixing are unable to stop it.

𐃆 Xiao

| About [name]

Ah… Yes, I do know of them. What of it?

I would advise you to not bother them with your troubles. They have more important matters to attend to. If you truly need help, call me instead.

| About [deityName]

Do not speak of their name so casually. They are the spouse of Rex Lapis, so in Liyue you must refer to them as the Deity of Peace.

That expression… You do not think that the designation suits them, do you? You must have heard about the rumors. I assure you, while not all of them were lies, if you would just spend some time with them, you will realize that they are nothing as the malicious whispers of the mortals designed them to be.

One's past… might not be able to be erased, but one should not be defined by it. This is what they used to tell me. I would like to ask you to consider this when talking to them.

| About [name] 2

Huh? What is this?

cough … Haah. Eons have passed and still they insist on treating and referring to me as a "child". I assume they told you to make sure I ate all these mortal food, too? Hmph. Of course they would.

Wha- I did not say that I would not eat them! Hey- Traveler! Stop that floating companion of yours from stealing my food!

| About [deityName] 2

It was my honor to be able to serve under Rex Lapis and [deity_name] in the Archon War, until now. Though they have… rescinded their titles, it does not change what they have done to help me in the past. I will continue to fulfill my promise and my duty until my last breath, just as I will not take other masters aside from them for as long as the karmic debt has not consumed me entirely.

| Hungry Ghost Festival

Tsk. Is it already that time of the year?

You wish to know what the festival is about? Hm. I suppose you wouldn't know since it is a unique event of Liyue…

It is said that in the seventh month of the year, the connection between the realm of the living and the realm of the spirits wavers, so the spirit of the undead will rise up upon the lands. In order for the mortals to continue living without being disturbed, they would provide countless offerings and try to scare the ghosts away by organizing festivals that span for days.

… Although, in the end, the gifts and festivities itself does nothing to quell the wrath of the slaughtered.

| Rex Lapis and [deityName]

I believe the mortals have a specific phrase for this…. 'Match made in Celestia', or something to that line? It certainly resembles their relationship.

Huh? How so? sigh Just go around Liyue Harbor and ask the people there. You will understand soon enough.

| The sibling adepti

Ah, those kids. Are they still obstinately hovering over their former master, even now? Foolish ones who cannot even hold their promise… How impudent. They're a pair of overzealous troublemakers, that's what they are.

| About the God of Sun

I have heard about that name, but I believe they passed away a long time ago. Why the sudden interest?

◇ taglist ◇ @paintingsofdragonspine | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask or dm me!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #xiao #platonic!xiao x reader #god of war!reader au #rin writes

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scryarchives · 8 months

Text

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟗

never in his life did jaime think that the first person he'd really open up to would be his neighbour, but hey, new friendships are formed.

masterlist | previous , next !

– pairings: jaime reyes x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers

– author’s note: i wont lie this chapter was one of the more fun ones to write and i was excited :> disclaimer: i’m not of Hispanic or Aztec descent and used a translator for certain terms, so do correct me if im wrong!

translations: dios mío - my god ni siquiera me hagas empezar - don't even get me started

Time always passed faster than you ever thought it would, seconds turning into minutes, and minutes turning into hours within the blink of an eye.

The warm and radiant sun had begun to set, lowering itself closer towards the ocean as all the land beneath it was filled with a golden glow.

Unaware of this change sat two young adults within an abandoned building, light filling in the lonesome domain, keeping the duo company regardless of the lack of electricity that passed through.

Only Jaime’s voice filled the air as the young woman across him listened intently, hanging onto every word, feeling a fraction of almost every emotion he went gone through, from the sheer panic of the scarab lurching onto his face to the excruciating pain of the scarab’s limbs digging into the bone of his spine, bonding with its host for life.

Pity and heartbreak filled her heart as the man across from her struggled to get through one of the toughest parts of his journey, and the most painful of it all.

The loss of a loved one wasn’t an easy part to handle. He wished for everything to bring him back.

Silently, she pieced the pieces together, her hand hesitantly, but gently reassuringly placed over his own, reminding him that he could keep to himself if he wasn’t ready to share.

And he truly wasn’t ready yet.

Swallowing down his grief, he continued his tale, opening himself up to her about how he learned to protect those he loved, how he learned to handle this kind of responsibility, and how he barely escaped death with a different — but the good kind of different — approach on this strange, but exciting, new chapter in his life.

It was all so tough, but he had others he could rely on; his familia, Rudy, Nana, his Mamá, even Milagro. And perhaps Jenny, although currently, he was having a little trouble communicating with the latest name on the list after her rejection.

But he faced it all, and even though he still grieved the loss of his father, he came out a stronger person, heck maybe an even more loving person, and nothing was stopping him from keeping the people he loved safe — his home — safe. After all, home is where the heart is.

So here he was, spilling his guts out to a woman he first called a stranger, a threat. But now, things changed, and she started to change into his neighbour, maybe even a friend.

“And after everything her aunt did, she still volunteered to make our neighbourhood better. She helped rebuild our house, gave Rudy a new ride, which he’s practically attached to but won’t admit out loud, and was there for us in our toughest times,” He bobbed his head up and down in thought, Drea humming as her cheek rested in her hands, elbow placed on the armrest while she crossed her legs.

A cheeky smile grew on her face, eyes turning playful at the sight of Jaime’s dazed eyes.

“Jenny, hm? Sounds like quite the keeper,” She chimed, tilting her head playfully.

“Dios mío, ni siquiera me hagas empezar,” He muttered with a dreamy smile growing on his face. “Everything about her, it’s just so… perfect! She’s extremely intelligent, kind and caring, and so, so beautiful. What else do I even have to say?”

Chuckling, Drea leaned back in her chair, suggestively raising an eyebrow.

“Ever tried telling her that? Maybe it will sweep her off her feet, who knows?”

And just like that, Jaime’s smile fell, eyes downcast as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, picking at loose threads from within. He let out a sad sigh, head leaning back as he stared at the vine-filled ceiling.

“Funny thing, it didn’t work. After everything, I thought maybe she felt the same way, but it was probably the adrenaline getting to me…”

“Jaime, I’m sorry,” Drea began, glancing at the Mexican across her in concern. “I didn’t mean to pry–“

“It’s fine, Drea, really,” He replied smoothly, tilting his head to face her. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while anyways, and it’s probably better to let it all out, y’know?”

Slowly, Drea’s look of concern faded, a calm one replacing as she felt mutual about his feelings. She leaned her head back, staring at the little orbs of light that complimented the green of the vines that clung to the cement.

“Yeah, I get that.”

The two shared a look, gentle smiles all around as Jaime let out another sigh, this time, or relief, his eyes glancing back at the ceiling. Slowly, he let the thoughts flood through, one by one pushing them aside as he realised that all of his thoughts were just… thoughts. It’s all they would ever be.

“You know, if you ever want to talk, I’m always free to help out,” Drea began gently, Jaime, suddenly feeling grateful to have a friend around.

“Thanks,” He replied, the fiddling in his pockets slowing. “I’ve got your back too, if you ever need help. So is my family.”

A soft and appreciative look appeared on the woman’s face as she hummed, “I know.”

A comfortable silence grew between them, the two friends basking in the calm, enjoying each other’s company. Until a low rumbling noise was heard, and Jaime’s eyes snapped open.

When did he last eat again?

As his stomach rumbled again, Jaime pulled his phone out in embarrassment, swiftly checking the time.

6:30 pm.

Huh… he didn’t recall time passing by so quickly.

“It’s about time we head back anyways,” The woman across him stood up, Jaime doing the same as he hurriedly shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Yeah, it’s for the best,” He let out a breathy chuckle, hands in his pockets once more.

As he took his next step, Jaime hadn’t realised that his left foot was trapped beneath a loose vine, his weight shifting as he tried to lift his leg.

“Jaime, watch where you’re–“

His eyes widened at his sudden error, hands darting out of his pockets to help him regain his balance, but the ground seemed closer by the second, and he braced himself for impact.

But he never felt himself land on the solid concrete.

Instead, he felt a slight jerk that pulled him away from the ground as strong arms darted to catch his frame, a hand clasping the cloth of his hoodie, another around his waist as his arms flailed to his sides.

“–Going…”

Blinking up at her, Jaime felt his face flush at the proximity between them, light brown, almost amber, pools of concern staring at him as he felt himself getting lost within them.

Who knew that her eyes were so pretty? Did her hair always look this soft? Wow, under this light she looked so peaceful, so calm, and so beautiful—

“You alright?” She whispered, and the gentleness of her voice almost sent another wave of heat to his cheeks.

Being so lost in the moment, Jaime swore he was hallucinating the moment he felt a warm, soothing glow surround them. And he was certain his mind was messing with him the moment he thought he saw pink briefly dust her cheeks.

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m all good,” He muttered quickly, pulling his feet from beneath him as he regained his balance.

It was then that he realised their slight height difference, his heart pounding at the thought of being able to encompass her completely if they ever decided to hug. Or cuddle. Or kiss—

No! Jaime, you’re friends. You’re just hungry, and you’re thinking these thoughts because you’re lonely and you were rejected, that’s all. Don’t mess it up.

“The vines here are a little pesky now and then, but hey, a little pruning might be needed,” She giggled, and Jaime fought his thoughts once more, almost hissing out loud for them to shut up.

“Jaime, you’re staring, again. You need to answer Alejandra or she will think that you are weird.”

“Yeah,” Jaime blurted out, silently thanking Khaji for the reminder. “Uh, yeah we definitely gotta cut those. Anyway, shall we? I think I’ve left my Mamá for too long and any longer, she might file a missing person’s report. Again.”

“Again?” She narrowed her eyes with a sly grin. “That must’ve been fun.”

“Eh, not so fun when you’ve been considered missing after crashing through your childhood home and flying all over the city without a clue on how to control it,” He joked back, her elbow nudging his ribs as they shared a laugh.

Right as he saw her smile, he felt himself go soft as he saw how radiant she was when she was truly happy, and his stomach rumbled once more, breaking the moment between them.

“Alright, c’mon big guy, let’s get you home with some food,” She chuckled, snapping her fingers as the citlaltontli hovered back in her hands.

The little glowing beads lost their radiance, their surroundings fading into the shadows as Drea grabbed Jaime’s wrist gently, pulling the male towards the large double doors of the building.

“Using up this much energy for light has worked up my appetite too.”

He chuckled, eyes glued onto their conjoining point, swallowing the lump in his throat as he felt how soft her tan hands were.

“Yeah, food,” He chimed. “Wanna join us for dinner?”

“Only if you don’t almost expose me before your family.”

There was something about the playful glint in her eye that made him want to know her more, to know more about her childhood, her hopes, her dreams. Everything.

“Deal.”

Yeah, he was just hungry.

gif by @rob-pattinson

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millepara · 1 month

Text

bye for now...

I DIDN'T cry in the arcade, I swear I didn't, depending on what your definition of crying is. lmao. I knew my eyes were less dry than usual but no one else would have.

I'm surprised, shocked even, that all three cabinets were still working. as mentioned here and there, I haven't been able to play for various reasons for a long time, so I have no idea how many people are still playing here. all I knew is from Luna posting about her trip where she encountered various defunct cabinets. I assumed that the ones at my home arcade would be the same. I guess that's the difference between tokyo and osaka at work... admittedly my arcade is hardly the top pretty series arcade in osaka, though. it's closest to the station so it's frequented by a lot of tourists etc passing through to spectate, which means it gets loud/a little unpleasant sometimes, which probably drives away most of the serious (?) primagi players (and those of other games too). but I can handle that if it means I'm not having to pack up all my cards and eject my usb and move after every single game.

anyway, none of that matters because I'm moving out of osaka and primagi is moving out of existence. the whole 3ish? hours I played today not a single other person came to play primagi until I was packing up to go. I was able to play and record everything I wanted to without being rushed or distracted or whatever. I almost didn't go at all because I'm moving next tuesday and it feels really irresponsible to go to the city and play at the arcade for hours this close, but... while packing I found a lithium ion battery that had swelled up into a mouse-sized pillow and the only place in the goddamn prefecture that will dispose of sick batteries happens to be a 20-minute walk away from my arcade. so I had no choice but to go!

luckily I set aside some coords & MAGIC☆VITAMIN's ids just in case back when I packed my pretty series box, so I already had that ready in my bag! kind of wish I'd gone over all of my coords a little better or picked coords that matched each other better, but I was focused on packing quickly at the time, and I didn't even use one of the coords I brought, so that doesn't even qualify as a regret. a little closer to a regret is how my larger usb did that thing where it gets too excited and stops recording in the middle of my game, so I spent the the last half of my arcade time muttering please please please PLEASE keep recording dont freak out you can do it come on come on--but it always does this so in a way, it was just like old times. back in the arcade with my wretched usb at my side. I got everything I wanted to record in one piece, at least, though it took a couple tries sometimes.

I was planning on only getting friend cards because I love looking at them and I don't need to start collecting coords on my final day of playing the game lmao, but!! I forgot or didn't know there are pretty rhythm coords in primagi!! I knew about the pripara and prichan ones, but other than Mirai's they were mostly stuff I don't care abt seeing on my idols... but the pretty rhythm ones!! they added so many details and definition to update the coords for primagi, and I love looking at that sort of thing!! I only did extra shopping one time when pure premium wedding and rainbow 7th coord showed up in the same game, and then with the random cards you get at the end of the game I managed to finish both, as you can see at the beginning of this post :)

I ended up playing an extra game with Milk because I wanted to see her in the wedding dress, and I was planning on playing one final game with Biscuit, but then... well, I'm totally unaware of the new songs aside from Miruki's Puzzle Buzz one, so I just chose the Himeme/Mychara Girls duet because I wanted to see a Milk/Biscuit pretty rhythm duo, and.... oh my god. it was the cutest song in the world, even (impossibly!) cuter than Buzzle. my idols got engaged......... in pretty rhythm wedding dresses..... . it seemed like too perfect a place to finish my primagi career (and I had to record it twice bc of my usb) (and I didn't particularly have any coord/song in mind to use for Biscuit after that) (and right after hearing morning and gift in the arcade after so long it was a direct hit to my idol emotions) so I finished up and went home.

I'm really glad I got to play one last time. I had already resigned myself to the fact that I just wouldn't get to, that's how it had to be and it sucks that I'm moving at the same time, and I figured it would be fine because I haven't been able to play regularly. but I feel so relieved since I went! I'm going to the middle of nowhere so I won't be able to play aipri verse regularly even if I want to (tbd), so I think this nice long farewell concert helped me feel ok about primagi ending and moving away and whatever aipri is going to be instead of just like... it's inevitable, so oh well.

I haven't had time to check the vids yet. fingers crossed that they turned out fine...

#more of a diary entry and less abt primagi specifically. its my blog i can do anything #milk idol diary #primagi arcade

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