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#in terms of the sound it reminds me a lot of against me!
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hiki and geki matching post
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hiki and geki matching post
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hyuny-bunny · 5 months
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skz + types of p*rn they watch (w/links) pt 1. hyung line
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MDNI (+18) content warning: p*rn, nsfw links, mentions of rough sex, use of female anatomy, breeding, spanking, choking, fingering, oral (f receiving) most afab reader terms.
a/n: if the links are not working for you, you may need the app as most are not compatible with a web browser
pt 2. maknae line
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chan: he's definitely watching twitter/x porn. as for what side of x he's on all depends on the mood. he definitely seems to stay on a more "vanilla" side. probably has a keen interest on size kink and breeding videos. but what they all have common is riding. it gets him so riled up seeing ones shot in cars because the next time he sees you it's all he thinks about. he'd love nothing more then to have you riding his dick, his hands holding your hips in place, eventually snacking a hand to lightly you choke and bunching your skirt in the other hand while you sloppily bounce on his cock. maybe he's taking you out to a nice dinner & movie but once your back in that car he's practically begging you to sit on his cock.
"baby, i need you so bad. come here, ride me, need to feel this pretty pussy on me."
breeding
riding
minho: there's so many things i could say about him. i don't think he necessarily needs porn to get off or actively looks for it, but i do think he loves being able to send you links that either remind him of the both of yours sexcapades or things he wants to do to you. i feel like he watches a lot of overstimulation, spanking, BREEDING, and just a sprinkle of voyeurism. i think he gets really turned on by the ones of girls in pretty lingerie wearing collars with bells, so every movement makes the bell ring. he almost collapses to his knees when he gets home one day to see you wearing the collar he bought, the one he'd been hiding and waiting for the right moment.
the only thing on your mind is the feeling of your sopping wet cunt being suffocated by minho's cock. he's got a fistful of your hair in hand, pulling you up from your pillow before landing a hard smack on your ass, never letting up on his thrusts.
overstimulation
spanking
changbin: another one in my books that loves size kink porn. not because i think he likes someone smaller, but more so the fact that he likes the feeling of being able to make someone feel so small. in seo changbins biceps, we trust. i think this one in particular will have him pleading with you to let him try it. you might feel reluctant because of any underlying insecurities at the though of feeling like you're "too heavy" (there's so no such thing to him) . it isn't till he's got you lifted up against the wall with no holding you either than his arms & shoulders, his mouth lapping away at your pretty cunt, any worries you ever had dissipated along with your ability to use your words.
"bin-binnie please i-i can't hold on much longer" a string of whines follow suit. he's been at it for a while and you've already had two orgasm but he's relentless. all you can hear are his groans and the squelching sound of his tongue abusing your cunt. he lifts his head up from between your thighs with you hand webbed in his hair, mirroring your worn out lustful look.
size kink
making you feel small
hyunjin: to me, i think hyun goes either of these two ways. he's the most depraved man known to walk this earth that loves it sloppy, messy, wet and downright lustfully filthy. the latter also leads me to believe he's not big on porn, prefers either his imagination or his OWN videos. one he's recorded (with your consent + encouragement) while you've done it together. he needs the passion of either love or the passion of wanting to make the either cum so hard they've gone to heaven (preferably both). if he's watching videos, his favorite ones always have the girl shaking and crying in pleasure by the end. he needs to see the passion, lust to be able to get off. when it's you, it's different, if anything it brings him back to those moments to fully remember the need between the two of you. that being said he's heavy into breeding/cumplay and semi restraining. he loves seeing the hands held behind the back and holding someone in place while they fall apart in his lap + cock.
it was supposed to be a quick kiss, which turned into heavy petting, and now he's brought your leg over his hips. the panties you were wearing discarded somewhere in the room, one arm is wrapped around you holding you tightly to his chest while his other hand is at work. his middle & ring finger are knuckle deep thrusting into you and he's groaning into your neck sucking hickies in all your favorite spots.
semi restraints
playing w you in his lap
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no-144444 · 15 days
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the break up of the century - (l.norris, no 4)
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pairing: lando norris (no.4) x fem! singer! reader
summary: you and lando break up on horrible terms, can a new album and a special performance bring you back together? is that even what you two want?
7.6k + words, brief fade-to-black smut, fluff, mainly angst :)
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You weren’t sure how it happened, one moment you were on stage, the next, you were crying in your dressing room, hating every single thing about your life. Funny how one moment leads into the next, right? 
Y/n Y/l/n. Household name at the age of 19. Now, 23. Fans impatiently awaiting your next album, the album you hated, and now on a world tour that is sucking the life from your body. 
Sounds like you have it all. 
The money, the fame, the clothes, the boys, the voice. It’s all you’ve ever dreamed of. And now it means nothing, because you have it. And it’s nowhere near as good as you wanted it to be.
You’d always been told of the horror stories of fame taking more than it gave, and you always brushed it off with a smile and a ‘that’ll never happen to me’. Low and behold, you’ve had 4 stalkers in 2 years, 3 lawsuits against you from old record companies that dropped you, 2 grammys, and 1 ridiculously public break-up with he-who-shall-not-be-named. 
Having it all really means having too much to think about, and too much to deal with. You would’ve preferred to just go to university like all your friends. Be young. Make mistakes. But those were luxuries you took for granted, and now you’re paying the price. 
“Y/n?” Sasha, your manager called from outside. “We have the meet and greet.”
And then there was your fans. They were great, obviously, but they were also very hyper teenagers and young adults that paid a lot of money to see you, and it made you feel even worse about not being 100%. At least you’d cut ticket prices down by 50% in meetings, meaning they were much cheaper than any other artist at the moment. At least you could do that for your fans. 
You nodded, sniffling as you wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your dress. 
“Do you need your makeup touched up?”
“Yes,” you answered, voice hoarse. “How many more shows?” 
“This was your 97th. You have 53 left.”
“Fuck!” You groaned. “Fuck this.”
“You have the British Gran Prix tomorrow, you have to make an appearance, alright? I’m sending Maria in to fix your makeup,” Sasha was trying to pity you, but she also had a job to do, which you understood. 
“Thanks Sash,” you sighed as Maria came in. 
“Hey babe,” she smiled softly, sympathy and pity shown in her eyes. 
“Hi,” you sniffled, wiping your last tear away. 
“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” She started unpacking her bag with all your makeup as you nodded, turning to face her. “You’re amazing. You were so pretty tonight.”
You somehow didn’t scoff in her face. “Thanks.”
“I know you don’t believe me,” she sighed. “I can’t even understand why. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
You hiccupped, the tears threatening to pour again as you thought about him. 
“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
Stop thinking about him. You told yourself. He’s in the past.
But he wasn’t in the past, how could he be when he was always on your fucking feed with his new girlfriend. Allison and Lando, what a beautiful couple. More like a bunch of crap. They weren’t real, everyone knew it was just pr, especially considering that she was promoting her new racing movie. You had no idea why they even tried to keep up the charade. They didn’t even look good together. 
Alas, they were together, and you weren’t anymore. 
And you were going to be reminded of it every single second of the next day. 
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You pressed your entry card to the barrier and walked through as cameras flashed and you smiled one of your best fake smiles.
“Y/n!” Oscar smiled, walking up and hugging you. You knew everyone, and you started to feel embarrassed about everything. This was his workplace, and you had to be here to do press and sing a song you didn’t want to sing.
Bullshit.
“Hey Osc,” you smiled, hugging him back. 
“You look so wonderful today,” he smiled, taking your hand instead. He led you to the McLaren paddock as you two chatted about tour and races. You asked about Miami, and Oscar answered. “It was the best day of his life- his words!” 
“Meeting you was the best day of my life. That’ll never change.”
Oh. I guess it changed. 
“How's the tour? It looks amazing!” He cheered as you two entered the paddock. Mechanics and engineers greeting and hugging you as you went through and lied about how ‘amazing’ the tour is. 
“Y/n!” Zak cheered. “My favourite girl!”
He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and you hugged back. It felt good to be back, and to still have so many people still like you. “Hi Zak.”
“I missed you so much! Please tell me that awful Allison girl is gone and you and Lan are back? She’s driving me crazy,” he scoffed.
“No, I’m just here to do some press with Ferrari,” you chuckled. “But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see my favourite CEO.”
He sighed but nodded, knowing that Lando had the board cut you off the ‘influencer list’ when you two broke up. “Well, once you know that you’re my favourite.”
“You’re my favourite too,” you smiled. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Lips are sealed,” he smiled and moved on, going about his various duties. For a moment you looked around the paddock you had known so well and felt your heart ache a little. You loved Lando, you still loved Lando. You loved McLaren, and you loved the people here, yet you didn’t get to see them anymore because of the stupid fucking tour. This tour was ruining your life. You didn’t talk to family, or friends, you and Lando had broken up, you weren’t eating or sleeping, you always felt sick, you were rarely allowed to speak during the day so you could ‘conserve’ your voice for shows. 
But the worst part was that nobody noticed. 
“He's right y’know,” Oscar  smiled. “We all miss you. Even Lando.”
“Lando is with Allison. He has no reason to miss me.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “All they do is fight.”
“So? That’s what Lando and I did for weeks.”
“But it was different. You two were in a bad situation, but you loved each other, so the fights meant something. Allison and Lan are just wrong for each other, they’re fighting to fight.”
You groaned, sitting on the bench and resting your head in your hands. “When did you become a philosopher?”
Oscar laughed, and placed a hand on your back. “I’ve always been this philosophical, you were just too busy to notice.” 
“Shut up,” you chuckled, pushing him off. 
“All I’m saying is that you should talk to him, that’s all,” he shrugged, walking away from you and further into the paddock. 
“Y/n.”
Your head snapped up, so hard it hurt. There he was. Lando. For the first time in months. With Allison. And a dog.
Oh. 
“Hi,” you smiled, standing up. It was a puppy, a jack-russell terrier, the kind you’d always wanted. The kind like your childhood dog. Great, now they stole your dog breed. “Nice to see you.”
“I didn’t know you would be here,” he said bluntly. “What are you doing here?”
“Press for Ferrari. Oscar just… brought me in to say hi to everyone. So, hi. And now I’ll take my leave,” you smiled, then started to try and walk off. But Allison clearly had other plans, since she stuck out her hand for a ‘handshake’ that conveniently stopped you from walking off. 
“Allison,” she smirked. “And this is Mila.”
You stared blankly at Lando for a moment. Seriously? He’d taken the dog breed and what you’d agreed to be the name of your first child? Give me a break. 
“Y/n,” you shook her hand. “And I have to go, bye and good luck today.”
Thank god Ferrari was on the other side of the fucking track. 
“Y/n!” Charles cheered, hugging you close. You’d been getting closer with Charles since your split with Lando and his split with his ex had happened within a week of each other. “How are you?”
You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, tired.”
“I have been seeing the tour, it looks great!” he smiled, pulling back. 
“Thanks Charles, it was amazing to see you, but I better go. I have to-”
“Sing the new song? Yes! I can't wait,” he cheered. You mustered up a small smile, and left him alone. 
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Sasha came and found you in the bathroom an hour later. “Y/n?” She was frantic, and stressed, so you just decided to give up and show yourself. 
“Yeah?”
“It’s time, come on,” she sighed. “I know this is hard-”
“How could you know it’s fucking hard? My entire life is in shambles and I’m supposed to be happy about it because I’m a ‘superstar’ what the fuck does that even mean? My boyfriend broke up with me because of this tour, and I thought I was going to marry him. Isn’t that insane? Isn’t that fucking crazy? And the worst part is, that I can’t even stop if I want to. I’m not allowed to stop. Sasha, how could you ever understand how hard this is for me? I’m 22. I should be in college, having fun. But instead I’m about to sing a song I don’t like or care about, in my ex-boyfriends workplace. Does that sound like fun to you, Sasha?” 
Her face was blank, stoic, unmoving. “Let’s go, you have soundcheck.”
You just followed her. Sasha was good at that, good at making you feel small, making you feel like a nuisance. The stage was big, bigger than most of your stadiums, but you didn’t care. You just had to get through it. 
“Have you eaten?”
“Feel sick,” you replied. “No thanks.”
Sasha sighed. “You’re going to faint one day.”
“Let’s hope I never wake up,” you replied dryly. Sasha scoffed and walked on, showing you the layout of the stage. You followed and asked questions, getting into ‘work mode’, and warming up your voice as you went along. A small crowd of the driver’s was gathering, even Lando was standing there, front row, just like he used to. 
You wanted to punch him, in all honesty. How could someone do that? He had no fucking right to stand there and watch you sing. He should be with Allison. 
“Start when you’re ready,” Sasha called and you nodded. 
The music started, and you were off. When the music started, you became someone else. You were moving around, laughing with your band, smiling. It was nice. Even if you hated the tour, you felt free on stage. Even if the song was sad. 
‘Champagne problems’, you’d written it right after your break up with Lando, it was new, and it had just been released. It had become the top of the charts in 15 countries. It would be on your next album, 
‘What if it doesn’t get easier like everybody says?’, and it was your most raw album. It was clearly all about your break up with Lando, there was no denying that. 
The song ended and the entire track clapped. You stopped moving when you spotted Lando’s parents, and you realised very quickly that you had to get out of there. 
You ran to the Ferrari hospitality, did some promos for your next album with them, and suddenly it was time to sing for real. The stands were full, the microphone was on, and the spotlight was on you. 
“Hi everyone,” you smiled, and the crowd erupted in cheering. “How are we feeling today?”
You had worn a short red dress, for Ferrari, and it was sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. Everyone could see how beautiful you looked. Your hair perfectly styled, your makeup flawless, your beautiful face. 
Lando was entranced. 
You started singing and you sounded like an angel, truely. Lando had always thought you sounded otherworldly. He knew it was about him. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he missed you. He knew it was too late, and that was the worst part. 
“Thank you so much for coming out and listening to my dumb sad song,” you chuckled as the crowd cheered. “But I have something else for you,” you were cut off by excited fans. I have something just a little bit happier, it’s called ‘Lover’. Please enjoy!”
Lando watched you as you danced around the stage, and he felt something dark growing in his stomach. You weren’t talking about him. It was someone new. You were seeing someone new. 
You couldn’t be seeing someone new, you’d been in a new city every few days. You couldn’t make it work with him, you were never on your phone, so it couldn’t be online. How did this happen?
You finished your song, and you left the stage. You fell into a chair and passed out. Maybe not eating was a bad idea? Probably. 
“Y/n,” Sasha shook you awake. “Someone’s here to see you.”
“I feel like shit-”
“We all do. Let’s go.”
And you followed. Because you had to. What else were you supposed to do but follow? Was this your life now? Taking orders and following them. 
“Now, you have to be nice to everyone, even Lando and Allison, alright?” she turned to you, stopping in front of the door. 
“I really don’t feel well,” you tried to protest. “Can I grab something to eat first?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’ll be 15 minutes, you’ll survive,” she sighed, opened the door, and pushed you into the room.
The drivers and their partners all cheered, happy to see you back in the paddock. 
“Y/n! I missed you so much!” Carmen immediately pulled you into a hug.
“I missed you too,” you smiled, even if it was forced. You needed to sit down, you needed a drink, and you needed to be alone. 
“Some pretty amazing songs!” George cheered, patting you on the back. 
“Thanks George,” you smiled. Soon you were all sitting on the various couches and chatting, even if you didn’t speak. Lando’s eyes were glued to his hands as Allison’s eyes were glued to you. She was practically sitting on him, on the verge of straddling him if you looked in their direction again. She didn’t know it, but you were looking at the door behind them, wondering when you’d be called. It had surpassed the 15 minute mark, and you felt yourself getting more and more faint as time went on. 
“Y/n?” Allison cut across Daniel chatting to you about your latest show in Manchester, remembering a story of the two of you when you were there, and telling it to the group. “How’s the tour going?”
You cleared your throat. “Well, thanks,” you smiled shyly. 
“So the rumours that you haven’t been performing to your full capabilities aren't true? Like I’ve heard you’ve been lip syncing,” she smirked as the rest of the drivers and wags just looked at her with disgust. Oscar rolled his eyes. He’d been sick of her for weeks, and he was usually quite good with people he didn’t like, but he hated her. So did Lily. 
You gulped. “I don’t lip sync, but obviously 97 shows in 113 days is quite a lot for my voice, so I don’t always sing my super vocally- challenging songs every night or else I’d have to go on vocal rest all the time,” you explained, feeling the change in energy in the room. 
“And that would just be horrible, right guys?” She turned to Lando with a smirk on her face, but he was just looking down, embarrassed by her. “I’m a huge fan of your music, how much of it is about Lando?-”
“What the fuck?” George stood up with Carmen by his side. “Allison, what is your problem with her?”
“It’s just a question!” Allison defended as Lando got up and left. She looked a lot less imposing with Lando gone. “He’s my boyfriend now!”
“Yeah, we wish he wasn’t,” Lewis said under his breath.
“Guys, it’s fine,” you just wanted to leave. “Some of my songs are, because I like to put my feelings into music, right? But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself. Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well.”
With that, you got up and left. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if Sasha screamed at you, you didn’t care if they all came running after you. 
It was done. You and Lando were over. Was it your choice? No. Was it a choice you had to deal with? Yes. His choice. Yet, everyone had looked to you for answers. ‘What happened?’ ‘Was it going downhill?’ or your personal favourite; ‘Did he get bored?’.
You didn’t know. All you knew was that one moment, you were with him, and the next you weren’t. 
You ran to your dressing room and lay down, eating some random snacks you found. You felt better after eating, you felt-
Knock knock. 
“Come in!” You called, not caring much about who it was.
“Hi,” Lando’s voice was small and quiet. 
You sat up, staring at him. 
“Beautiful songs,” he smiled softly. “Missed hearing you sing.”
You nodded. “Good luck today.”
“Thanks,” he sighed. “I'm sorry about Allison, she’s the fucking worst.” 
You chuckled softly. “I’m sorry you’re dating her.”
He cracked a soft smile, then it fell. “Who’s the new lucky guy for you?” He watched as your face fell. 
“No… no new guy, just an old one I wrote back at the start of… us…” you trailed off. 
His heart was shattering, watching you be treated like this. Watching from afar as you lost your mind, lost your life, over a fucking tour. He saw the soulless look in your eyes, the dropped weight, the dampened smiles, all of it. He was shocked that other people couldn’t see it too. He’d regretted breaking up with you since the moment he did it. He was haunted by the way you begged him to stay, and he questioned how he’d ever said no to you. How was he so blind-sighted? How did he not see how much pressure you were under? How did he not see that he was what was keeping you above ground? 
“Oh,” he breathed out. 
You took a deep breath. “I’m releasing an album soon, and a lot of the songs are about our relationship,” you explained hesitantly. “I wanted to offer you a chance to listen to it before it goes out, just as a… heads-up? In case you’re worried about what’s on it.”
God, punching him square in the face would hurt less than watching you feel awkward around him. He cleared his throat. “Oh umm…yeah. I’d like that. Thank you.”
You nodded and got up, taking a cd out of your backpack. “Here you go. Sorry again, about… everything.” 
“I’m sorry too,” he nodded. “So, are you leaving now or…?”
“No, I’m holding the chequered flag today, so I’ll be up at race control,” you explained, trying to look anywhere other than him. “And I’m handing off the 1st place trophy.”
“Maybe I’ll be first to see you,” he chuckled. 
“Maybe,” you shrugged. 
“The tour looks… awful. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he spoke after a minute’s silence. 
You just shrugged. “Not your fault,” you lied. 
He knew this was when he was meant to leave, but he wasn’t sure when you two would be in the same room again. He didn’t know when he’d see you again, so he took a moment to fully take you in. “You were really incredible today. You sounded like an-”
“Angel? Thanks Lando, see you soon,” you nodded, finishing the compliment you always used to get from him. He nodded and left, realising he had no more time. 
When the door closed you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. How could he do that? How could he stand there and be nice to you, after what he said that night? After what he fucking put you through?
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Weeks of complaining from him, blaming you for his performance in races, telling you that you needed to be there for him, not calling you back, not texting back, not listening when you told him about how awful everything was going. 
“I’m sorry Lan, I know how hard this is. It’s hard for me too-”
“How the fuck can you say that? You’re the one who choose to do this, you fucking decided to tear us apart! This is all your fault, and you’re telling me it’s ‘hard’ for you. What is hard for you? Spending all your time with adoring fans? Being on stage and living your dreams? Being away from me?”
“Lan, you know better than anyone that I didn’t want this tour to happen,” you cried. Even then, even 48 shows in, you were being driven crazy. You were exhausted, you missed home, and you missed Lando. “I had no choice-”
“You had every fucking choice! And don’t give me that fucking bullshit about your label forcing you, we both know that’s a fucking lie!” he shouted. You hated it when he shouted, when anyone shouted. He had no fucking right to speak to you like that. You didn’t want this to happen, you had no say, you just had a contract and an incompetent lawyer to thank.
“I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” you shrugged, your voice breaking. “I love you, and I miss you. We can make this work Lan, I just need time to figure it out, alright? I just need time-”
“Yeah? Well I’ve given you all the time I have to give. We’re done, I bet I could find a million girls just like you, girls who would actually take my feelings into account before she made huge life decisions!” he scoffed.
“Lando, please don’t do this. I-I don’t know what- I- Lan please, I need you,” you pleaded. “I’m trying my best I swear-”
“Your best isn’t good enough.��
And he hung up.
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The fallout of your relationship didn’t exactly go great either. A day later your feed was flooded with pictures of Lando out with someone else. One day later. 
What the fuck? Didn’t he care? Didn’t he love you?
Well, apparently not. 
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Lando knew he wouldn’t see you again for months. This was his only fucking chance to speak to you, to see you, and instead, he stayed in his driver’s room listening to the heart-wrentching songs you’d written about him. God, if he thought ‘champagne problems’ was devastating, ‘cowboy like me’ was worse. It was a long album, almost 2 hours long. It spanned your entire relationship, starting out, your first date, your grammy win, his podiums, the hate you two got, the start of the fighting, the end of the relationship, and the after. It was awful reliving it from your perspective, especially since you had tried to tell him, and every time he’d pick a fight. 
“Lando?” Oscar’s voice came from outside his door. “Allison’s looking for you.”
“Tell her to piss off!”
“You can do that, mate,” he scoffed and walked off, into his own driver’s room. 
“Lan?” Her voice rang out, and he wanted to scream. He had put himself in this position, he knew it,  but it was still difficult to fully self-actualise his own shortcomings. 
“What?” he groaned, opening the door. 
“The other girls are excluding me,” she pouted. 
“I wonder why,” Lando rolled his eyes. “They love Y/n.”
Her face fell into a frown. “But you love me, so they should love me. They keep going off to find her and talk to her, and any time I try to tell them that I’m uncomfortable around her, they tell me not to come.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he sighed. 
“Talk to their boyfriends, ask them to include me!”
“Babe, I have a fucking race today, please leave me alone,” he sighed. He pushed past her to walk to the paddock, knowing he just had to keep his head down and race today, he just had to do the one thing he was good at. 
“Well, what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?” 
“I don’t know,” he grunted, and moved on. The garage was somehow too loud yet not loud enough to drown out the negative thoughts in his head. Recent months had been difficult. Races were taking more and more out of him, he was lonely, and if he wasn’t training or racing, he was looking at old photos of you or watching the tour. He could see how you deflated as you left the stage, how upset you looked going on stage. It was all a terrible reminder of how selfish he’d been. How hadn’t he seen it? Why didn’t he listen? 
He remembered telling Max what had happened. He’d gotten so angry, begging him to call you back and apologise. He’d been so blindsighted, he wouldn’t listen to Max. Why was Max always right?
“You good?” Oscar asked, a hand on his shoulder to drag him out of his thousand-yard stare. 
Lando sighed. “Good,” he lied, and it wasn’t convincing. Everyone knew what you were to him. You grounded him, you knew him, every single part of him. You loved him. “You?”
“Good. Y/n’s set was great earlier,” he offered a small smile. “At least you have a good break-up album, right?”
Lando cracked a small smile. Oscar was good at that, making him laugh when he was down. “Yeah, it feels great when it’s about you.”
Oscar chuckled. “Story for the grandkids,” he shrugged. “Don’t sweat it.”
Lando nodded. 
“Oh yeah,” Oscar added. “When you left, Allison asked Y/n what songs were about you, so just… expect that conversation with her, I guess? I’m not entirely sure what’ll happen-”
“What did Y/n say?”
Oscar swallowed. “Something like; ‘some of my songs are, ‘cause I like to put my emotions into music. But not all of them, because my life doesn’t revolve around Lando, it never did. I am more than my relationships, and you’d do good to remember that for yourself’.”
Lando nodded, and could tell by the look on Oscar’s face that he was holding something back. “That’s it?”
“‘Don’t let love become who you are, it doesn’t end well’,” Oscar finished. “Then she left.”
Lando nodded as the weight on his chest got heavier. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Of course,” Oscar offered a pity-smile and walked off to his side of the garage. 
Lando was always a person to be stuck inside his own head. He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. He didn’t know how to talk about them. Yet, you always knew how to get him to talk. You always had the right solution, the right thing to say, the right face to make. He was in awe of you, so effortlessly perfect. 
He remembered back to Greece, back in the off-season, before the tour, before the season started. Before he fucked everything up. 
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You smiled as he pulled you closer. The air was anything but cold, and the water was still. There you two sat, sitting on the bow of the as the sun set. The clear water beneath the yacht you’d been on for the past few days was calm and steady, lulling you both into an unmistakable tiredness. Yte, Lando wanted to stay up, wanting to soak up as much time with you as he could. He was going to miss you so much this season. You hadn’t ever been to every race in a season, you were a busy person, he understood that. He was a busy person too. But you’d go to as many races as possible. Now, ‘as many races as possible’ means about 4. Stupid tour. 
“What are you thinking about?” you asked, your eyes closed as you soaked in the moment. You leant against his chest as you lay in his arms, your favourite place to be. 
“How much I’ll miss you this year,” he admitted. There was never any point in lying to you, you always knew. 
You pressed a kiss to his arm. “I’ll miss you too.”
You were straight forward with things, he loved that. It was a bad situation. You were off to a tour you didn’t want to do, and he was off to another season. 
“I love you,” he confessed. He said it a lot, but it always felt special. He made you feel special. You made him feel special.
“I love you,” you opened your eyes, a smile on your lips. You spoke again after a few moments of silence. “You’re going to win a race this season, I can tell.”
He chuckled. “Once I get back home to you, I don’t care if I win.”
You laughed. “Sure, we all believe you.”
He smiled. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
You looked at him for a moment, that perfect, soft smile on your face. “Ditto,” you laughed as he did too. Your laugh was melodic, his favourite sound. 
“Who says ‘ditto’ to that?!” he laughed.
“I do,” you chuckled. 
You two locked eyes for a moment, then he leant down and pressed his lips to yours, soft and sweet. 
The perfect night. 
----------------
He caught a glance of your red dress walking into the garage. 
“Y/n!” The engineers cheered. He heard your laughter. 
The room was a collection of cheers and conversation, and he wanted more than anything to be able to walk over to you and hold you, and kiss you, and tell everyone to leave you alone because you were his girlfriend, not theirs. 
You walked in with a smile on your face. That smile dropped in half a second. Everyone was talking, everyone was patting you on the back, everyone was looking at you. You caught a glance of Lando and immediately felt the pit in your stomach grow. Everyone knew everything, everyone looked at you. Everyone blamed you. Oscar wrapped his arm around you and walked you through the garage as he saw you getting overwhelmed. He’d learnt the signs from his little sisters. Blown out pupils, teary eyes, tight features, heavy breathing. Oscar had always been a great friend to you, he’d always cared for you. He brought you through, doing most of the talking if anyone stopped you two and let you in his driver’s room, promising to grab you when you could leave without being bombarded by crew, or the press. 
Lando followed behind after a few minutes, then knocked on the door. He knew how to calm you down, he was probably the only person who did. 
Oscar opened the door looking panicked. “She’s having a panic attack,” he whispered. 
Lando nodded and walked in, taking your hand in his as you hid your face in your other hand. He knelt beside you on the floor as you sat on the bed. “It’s me baby, I’m right here. Come on, squeeze my hand,” he said, voice steady. You didn’t. “You need to start breathing properly, squeeze my hand like I’m squeezing yours,” He put some light pressure on your hand, which jump-started you into squeezing his hand as hard as you could. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. You hated how well he knew you. You wanted him to not know you, to not understand you and your body better than you did. “Just like that,” he cooed. He pressed your hand to his chest, where you could feel his steady and calm breathing, feel his regular heartbeat. It was in stark contrast to you. The thump of your own heartbeat in your ears, the quick breathing, the erratic heart. “Breathe with me. Please baby,” his voice was soft and comforting. You tried, gently slowing your breathing down to normal. The adrenaline was still rushing through your body as you calmed down. Oscar offered you a water bottle and you let go of Lando’s hand to take it. 
“I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry,” you said, sounding smaller than ever. “Zak said he wanted to see me after my set. I should’ve just said no.”
“You’re always welcome here,” Oscar placed a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously.”
“We want you here,” Lando added. The air was sucked from the room. “I want you here.”
“You don’t,” you refuted. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Lando sighed. “Let me walk you back to Ferrari, please?”
You shook your head, finally looking up and making eye contact with him. “You and I both know how that’ll go.”
Lando nodded, his heart breaking for the thousandth time. It’s hard to find an end to something you never want to let go of. “Ok,” he whispered, his emotions getting the better of him. 
“Goodbye Lando,” you sighed, then took Oscar’s arm and let him lead you back to Ferrari. 
----------------
“I’m sorry about Lando,” Oscar sighed as you two walked up to the entrance to Ferrari. “About the break up, now, and basically everything in between. He’s been… difficult recently. He’s always been a ‘glass half empty’ kind of guy I guess… I just… you made him better, y’know?”
You chuckled sadly. “Thank you for apologising, but you don’t have to. Lando is an adult, so am I. Things just… end sometimes. Him and I just aren’t meant to be.”
Oscar cocked an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Oscar had never been this straightforward with you, and he sure as hell had never broached this topic before. You just nodded and took his hand. “Thanks for helping me.”
And then you walked back to Ferrari. 
Oscar did get one thing right, Lando wasn’t done with you. Maybe it was seeing you again, maybe it was the album, maybe it was Allison, maybe it was all of it, he didn’t know. But what he did know was that he was still in love with you. He’d never stopped. How could he? He missed everything about you, your lips, your smile, your kindness, the way you’d make him laugh, the way you’d make him smile. Everything. He missed listening to you sing, seeing you on a stage that you wanted to be on. Seeing you get to be you. 
----------------
The Silverstone after-party with Charles who dragged you along. You’d thought it would be a bad idea, but when you were already 8 shots deep, you didn’t really notice. Yuki had pulled you away to sing a karaoke duet with him as Pierre and Charles laughed at you both, and you somehow ended up outside on the balcony with Carlos, both of you laughing at something random. 
“Y/n!” Lando cheered, clearly as drunk as you. A part of you had forgotten about everything before this moment, like you were seeing him for the first time. Perfect, with his curls, unbuttoned shirt, and damn pretty smile. “I didn’t know you were here!” 
“Lan!” you cheered, pulling him in for a hug. Carlos gave you both a very confused look, but was called away by Charles for a game of beer pong. Surprisingly, these ‘fancy’ parties usually just turned into something out of a frat house in Florida. Maybe it was just Logan’s presence. “How are you?” You slurred. 
“I feel great!” he shouted. “We should go for a walk!” 
“Yes!” you agreed. 
----------------
And that’s how you ended up back in his hotel room making out with him on his bed as he pulled your dress off. Funny how things can happen when you’re actually 18 shots deep, not 8. Oops?
“So pretty,” he murmured into your neck as he settled you on his lap. “So pretty for me.”
You laughed into his mouth, pulling back. “Lan, speed up.”
He smirked at you, his eyes heavy, then pressed his lips to yours again. He fully pulled your dress off of you as you started making quick work of his belt and trousers. 
“Fuck me,” you whispered in his ear and he let out a low moan. “Please Lan.”
He didn’t waste time. 
----------------
You woke up the next morning with a blinding headache, and a very naked Lando Norris beside you. You had to leave. You’d just fucked him, and he had a girlfriend. You were a homewrecker. You didn’t know if the sudden urge to vomit came up because of that, or the 18 shots of straight vodka you did the night before. 
You quickly grabbed your clothes, shoes, one of his hoodies, and tried to salvage whatever dignity you had left, then made a swift exit. It was still dark out and you were just praying that you could get through the 2 blocks you had to walk to your hotel without running into someone, or running into cameras. You quickly dialled Sasha’s number and tried to stop yourself from crying. You just pray you two used protection, or fell asleep before doing anything real.
“Morning?” she answered groggily. 
“Sasha I did something really fucking stupid,” you admitted, the tears welling up in your eyes as you walked into the lobby of your hotel. “And I don’t know what to do.”
“Come to my room, we’ll sort it out,” she sighed. “You’ll be ok kiddo, I promise.”
----------------
You knocked on her hotel room door, tears in your eyes. 
“It’s 5 am,” she stated, opening the door. 
You rushed in, bursting into tears. “I think I fucked Lando, I mean- I-I think we fucked, last night- we were so drunk a-and then I don’t re-remember,” you hiccuped. “I’m so fucking stupid!”
She put a hand on your shoulder, sighing. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” she nodded. “But it’s not the end of the world. Did you use protection?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll go get Plan B, you stay here. Get changed into some pyjamas. Get some water, relax. Just don’t leave the hotel, yeah?”
“Alright,” you agreed. She left for the door. “Sash?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” you said in a small voice. She offered you a pitying smile, and went on her way. 
----------------
Months passed and you both went on with your lives. He didn’t reach out, you didn’t either. Sadly, you were in fact a homewrecker. A week after ‘the incident’ Allison and Lando broke up. You truthfully felt so ashamed and awful for the girl. It wasn’t right what you two had done, and truly, you were insanely drunk. In no world would you fuck Lando Norris sober. 
The tour had finally ended, and your world was no longer turned upside down. You were working on new music, healing your body after all the travel and abuse you put it through, and continuing to try and get over Lando. 
It hurt like a bitch. He hurt like a bitch. 
----------------
Lando two-wins. Contender in the Championship. Supposedly dating someone. Last Lap Lando.
Lonely Lando, more like. Max Fewtrell had decided to stage an intervention and join him for the rest of the races, worried about his mental state. Since seeing you again, he’d been… less than alright. He’d talk about you all the time, stalk your instagram (to the point that Max took his phone off of him in Greece), and generally just think about you a lot. It was coming up to the album drop, and you were having your launch party in Italy. The same weekend as the race. All because Charles wanted to come. 
Shit was bound to go down, and no one was more excited than Hallie. 
You were dressed to the nines, nervous and excited. You’d fired half of your team, you’d dropped your old label, and you’d become… happier? That couldn’t be right, not when you felt the oppressive weight of your own regret on your chest everyday. Not when you woke up reaching for Lando. Not when you watched every single race and couldn’t look away until he was safely across that damn finish line. 
You were surviving. That’s the best you could do. 
----------------
“You look beautiful,” Charles smiled as he walked into the party. The night had gone off without a hitch so far. A select group of fans, influencers, celebrities, and almost all the drivers were mingling with one another, and not one sighting of Lando Norris. Not that you didn’t miss his face, or him in general. You did. More than you’d ever thought possible to miss someone.  
“Thanks Charles,” you smiled, pulling him into a hug. “You look great too.”
He smiled and beside him, Alexandria smiled at you, then pulled you into a hug. You continued the superficial chatting for a few moments, just hoping Charles wouldn’t ask the dreaded question. 
He looked at you for a second too long, and you knew it was coming. “Are you alright?” God, why did he have to ask stupid fucking questions? Obviously you weren’t alright. Obviously, if you could, you would run away. Obviously, you were drowning. 
Didn’t he see that? Didn’t anyone notice? Didn’t anyone care?
Apparently not. 
You nodded, putting on your best fake smile. “Just nervous.”
He nodded. It was enough to fool him. 
The night went on in a flurry of uncomfortable small talk, ridiculous requests from your most esteemed guests, and it was finally time to start listening to the album. You stood on stage, a nervous smile on your face as everyone looked at David, your producer, who was speaking in length about how proud of the record he was, and how proud he was of you. Everything was perfect. Everything was right in the world. 
But, of course, because he had to always be the centre of your universe, Lando walked in. 
And you were fucked. Every single breathing technique you’d learnt, every single pressure point tapping you’d done, it all left your head. Everything stopped. You stopped breathing. You stopped. 
But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel bad to have him there. It felt awfully, and soul-crushingly, right. Lando was always meant to be there, a devastating realisation that you didn’t exactly want to make while on stage in front of 200 people. 
“Any words, Y/n?” David asked, passing you the mic. 
You looked at Lando and he smiled, waving at you. You smiled back. 
“Please enjoy this album, it’s from a very important time of my life where I finally learnt what it meant to be in love, and be loved wholly in return. Obviously, it didn’t end very well, and that’s when I learnt what grieving someone was. I still have a lot of love for him, probably more than I should. But I have it. And I had nowhere to put it, so I put it to music, which is really the only thing I think I’ll ever truly understand. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you understand it,” You explained to the crowd. You watched Lando the entire time, looking at how his eyes lit up when you talked about your relationship. Lando had always cared about you. He always would. 
The opening cords of the first song started playing, and the attention was off of you. The crowd just closed their eyes and listened. You exited the stage and joined the crowd, desperately trying to get out of there. You stood on the balcony as the music blasted inside. People danced along, sang along as they started learning the words, and you stayed outside, tears falling. 
“You’re beautiful,” Lando’s whisper made you jump. You turned to see him, standing there behind you. “The album’s beautiful.”
You scoffed. “The album’s an album. What was beautiful was us,” you sighed. “Thank you for coming.”
He nodded, leaning against the barrier beside you. “Do you even wish our lives weren’t as complicated as they are?”
You chuckled. “More than anything.”
“We were beautiful,” he shook his head, trying to remember why he ever ruined the best thing in his life. “If you ever find yourself wanting to love me again, just… call me?”
You nodded, looking at him. “I will.”
He nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder and letting it sit there for a split-second, just to remind him of what it was like to touch you. Just to remind himself that once, he didn’t have to wonder if you loved him, to remind him of the unwavering support you gave him, to remind him of how his whole world came crashing down when he made you leave it. “I love you,” he whispered before walking to the door. 
His phone started ringing in his pocket as he got back inside. Unknown number. He answered it. 
“I think I want to love you again,” he could hear your smile through the phone and he immediately whipped around, his smile growing as he got closer to you. When he stood in front of you again, you both took the phones down and smiled at each other.
Lando didn’t waste time. He closed the gap between you two in one simple stride, wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. “I love you so much,” he pulled back. “I’m never letting you go again.”
----------------
landonorris
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1,488,928 likes | liked by oscarpiastri, y/ny/l/n, and others
love of my life. @ y/ny/l/n
comments
user28: WHAT THE FUCK THEY BROKE UP MONTHS AGO THO????-> user92: they were seen kissing at her launch party
y/ny/l/n: who's that pretty girl? -> oscarpiastri: she's too good for him -> landonorris: >:( -> oscarpiastri: hurt her again and I push you off the track. ->carlossainz: I second this -> charleslecerc: I third this -> alexalbon: I fourth this -> georgerussell: I fifth this.
georgerussell: Trying to beat me with no shirt?
lewishamilton: Yay! (I begged her not to take you back you asshole). -> pierregasly: Yay! (I'm trying to be supportive of her).
lilymhe: fuck off. ->user83: LMAO -> user18: DAMN EVERYONE HATES HIM
danielriccardo: HAHAHAHAHAH (I'm crying.)
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
734 notes · View notes
arcanefox207 · 6 months
Text
The Wolf You Feed (Part 1)
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 8k
Part 1 / ? (Ongoing Series)
Summary: Set in fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). This chapter includes smut with fingering and cum eating. Dominant Joel. Eventual Angst. Drinking Alcohol. Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. 
Chapter Excerpt: He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you.
A/N: Please hang in there. This chapter has a lot of setup and is a bit of a slow burn. Its also my first fic and I am pouring my heart and soul into it.
A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N
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“Remember, if you need anything you can ask Joel. He knows his way around the house” your mother reminds you. 
“Thanks, I will be fine but I’ll keep that in mind.” You appease her but have no intention of bothering her neighbor.
“Love you, honey. Talk later!”
“Bye mom. Love you.” You end the call and slump back against the couch. This was going to be your home for the next few months. Your parents had gone south to avoid the brutal New England winter and had offered their summer vacation home in Kineo to you in the interim. No rent and plenty of free time to figure out what to do with your life next. All you had to do was pay the utilities and keep an eye on things.
The offer was genuine but also came from a place of concern. You had spent the last few years living a more-or-less nomadic life and poorly indulging your dreams of adventure. Your bachelors degree in Liberal Arts proving to be as useless as everyone told you it would be. It got you jobs easy enough but nothing that felt like a long term career. It all felt directionless but you also had been hell bent on proving everyone else wrong and keeping up the appearance that you were doing just fine. 
Your past relationships were nothing too exciting either. Months of casually dating someone and it not really going anywhere or random hookups that you regretted the next day. One or two guys you were getting serious with but ultimately scared you off when they started talking about a family in their big picture. You were starting to get cynical about any compatible prospects.
You are only 29 and wonder if a midlife crisis before your 30’s is normal. At least, that is what it felt like was happening. You had been treading water for too long and felt like you were too tired to keep swimming.
Your mother finally wore you down enough when your lease was up at your Boston apartment and you had no real obligations. You hated your current job, your roommates were little more than acquaintances and the busy city life scene was starting to lose its charm especially when it was astronomically expensive to live there. It was getting harder to say no so you agreed to her offer. 
You had to admit living in the country sounded like a nice change. You had a few months to figure stuff out and the thought of something new was exciting to you. Even if it meant continuing to endure the bitter winter, you had a chance to start fresh somewhere new. Something different. 
You didn’t grow up here and spent most of your life living in suburban homes with slightly warmer climates. Your parents had bought a small one bedroom vacation home in a sleepy New England town that they mostly only enjoyed in the prime summer months. The home sat mostly vacant otherwise. They would rent it out for weeks at a time but in the winter months no one from away wanted to go there. Too far from ski resorts and civilization to be of interest to a casual vacationer. It had a lake that drew much attention from outsiders only when it wasn’t frozen. The town was reduced to just the year-round locals in the coldest months.
Your new residence was outside the main populous of Kineo and nearby the lake. In fact, you could see the lake peeking through the thick pine trees out the front window if you looked hard enough. 
The closest and only neighbor in sight was the handyman your parents raved about across the street. He kept an eye on the place while they were away. You had never interacted with him on your occasional summer visits, but knew he had been kind to your folks and heard about him often enough. You occasionally saw him out in his yard from afar and he would give a lazy wave to your parents in passing. You never really got a good look at him up close but from what you could see he looked rugged and fit and always wore jeans and work boots. He had a modest waterfront cabin across the street and seemed to keep to himself.
You had arrived just a few days ago and already had a job lined up at the local coffee shop, Grind. You were getting your caffeine fix and saw a help wanted sign in their window and you had no trouble securing the job when you chatted with the owner. She hired you on the spot and seemed desperate but grateful that you actually had enthusiasm for coffee and knew your Americanos from your Lattes. Grind Coffee House was on the main drag along with some other quaint shops. It was charming enough and an easy 10 minute drive from your house. The pay was pitiful but would be enough to get by. Things seemed to be lining up perfectly.
You went to bed early that night and felt optimistic that this was going to be good for you. This was going to be the reset that you craved. A new adventure. It was like nothing you had experienced before and maybe that was exactly what you needed.
Shit. Your first day working at Grind and you can’t even get the car to start. 
It was freezing cold. The kind of cold that hurts when it touches your exposed skin. You turn the key in the ignition again and the engine makes a pathetic attempt to turn over. Nothing. Fuck. 
You turn the key again. Nothing. Fuck fuck fuck. You pull out your phone and realize you have no idea what to do other than call your new boss and make a horrible first impression. No, that wasn’t going to do. You look in the rearview mirror and see across the street that lights are on at your neighbors house, despite the early hour. As quickly as the thought crosses your mind you push it away. No. No way were you going to bother him at this hour. You hadn’t even officially met the guy yet.
You pull up Google on your phone and scan the first few results for “car won’t start” and narrow it down to engine troubles or dead battery. Either outcome is something you are not equipped to handle. 
A few moments pass and you reluctantly weigh the options. Would a garage even be open this early? How long would that take to get someone out there? You were wasting time and had to do something. You curse to yourself and go back inside the house.
You walk over to the fridge where a note is hanging front and center “Joel Miller” with a phone number neatly printed. Your mothers careful handwriting to contact the poor neighbor that she probably harasses all the time. You sigh and open your phone to dial the number.
It rings a few times, and then you hear a gravelly voice that catches you off guard. 
“Hello?” A deep and thick, unfamiliar accent answers. Not what you were expecting. 
“Hi, Mr. Miller.” a long pause and you stumble over your words. “I uh, I’m sorry to call you so early. I'm Rick and Linda’s daughter.” and mumble your name. Another pause. 
“Ah, right. Whatcha need, kid?” He asks with little expression in his tone. You can’t tell if he is annoyed or just sounded that way. 
“My car won’t start and I–” you pause, not too sure how to ask for help from a stranger. “I don’t know what to do...” Your voice trails off with uncertainty on how to ask for help or what you are even expecting. 
You hear a long exhale on the other end, like he is letting all the air out of his lungs while he is thinking on it. 
“Dead battery most likely… on a day like this. I’ll be right over.” He hangs up the phone before you can say another word and instead say thank you out loud to yourself and let your voice trail off. You instantly regret making the call.
You zip up your coat, pull your knit hat snug over your ears and head back outside when you see a black Ford pickup truck ease into your driveway. A tall man wearing a brown suede jacket approaches. The morning light is faint but you can make out that he is much older and has some silver streaking his hair and beard. He looks weathered and rugged but also has a warmness about him that is hard to reconcile with his rough exterior.     
“Joel Miller, I presume?” you nervously laugh and awkwardly introduce yourself for the second time. You attempt to be extra friendly and maybe penetrate his bristly wall. It seems to help when he notices you are a young woman and not some bratty teenager that your parents probably made you out to be. He takes a step forward and reaches a hand out towards you, nodding. He firmly shakes your hand and you are taken aback by how his grasp seems to engulf you.
“Pleasure to meet you, darling.” His voice is smooth and polite and has the tiniest hint of playfulness in his tone. You can’t place his accent, but you know it isn’t from around here and only someone from away would say ‘Darling’ so casually to a stranger. 
His dark brown eyes hold your gaze for a moment and he has the faintest smirk as he subtly scans your body. It sends goosebumps down your spine. You are grateful that you made an extra effort to look cute for your first day of work. You realize your hands are still embraced and nervously laugh as you pull away. He gets right down to business, but not before stealing another peek of your body when he thinks you aren’t looking.  
“Lets see what we got here.'' He climbs into the driver's seat and in no time confirms it's the battery when he hears your car's engine protest. He walks over to his tailgate and brings back some jumper cables. 
You stand there with your arms wrapped around your body trying to hold in as much warmth as possible. Your bare hands clenched in a fist and tucked in as far as they could in your jacket sleeve to shelter from the cold. Your teeth chattering as you try to stand out of the way but want to be nearby too. At least give the illusion you can be helpful if he needs something. You regret your first meeting being a clueless damsel in distress, but maybe he liked that sort of thing. His tune did seem to change once he saw you. 
Joel returns and leans over the edge of the seat leaving the door wide open, his large palm dragging up slowly from the floor to the steering column, searching for the hood release. His finger catches on the button and he pops the hood. It’s hard not to stare at him while he slides his expert hands with reckless abandon.
His eyes find yours and the corner of his mouth raises slightly. You question if you are mistaking his caught you watching me look for more than what it was. He seems to enjoy you watching him work. He steps away from the seat and pulls a pair of work gloves from his back pocket as he works to connect your car to his truck with the jumper cables. He starts his truck back up and approaches you. Your breath and his making little frozen clouds as you exhale. 
“You can sit in my truck if you want, it’s plenty warm in there.” He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “This will just be a minute.” You thank him and take him up on his offer and climb into his passenger seat. He has a classical rock station playing on the radio. A thermos sitting in the center console. You glance in the back seat and see some neatly organized tools and miscellaneous junk on the floor. It smells metallic and leathery. 
You outstretch your hands to the vents that are pouring warm air into the cabin and relish the heat.  
A few moments pass and you don’t see much of what’s going on with the hood of the truck blocking your view. You doom scroll on Instagram to keep yourself busy but your mind keeps thinking about Joel. You were in no way prepared for your neighbor to be so fucking handsome. It felt absurd to be so turned on by him.
He’s too old. You tell yourself. Don’t even think about it. 
Your thoughts are interrupted as the hood slams shut and Joel opens the driver's door. He reaches his arm out to grab his thermos while he climbs into the seat with a groan. The door shuts hard behind him and a blast of cold air invades your space briefly.  
“Damn cold one today” He says it with a huff as more of an observation than a complaint. He takes a sip of his coffee and looks over to you. You nod in agreement and find yourself caught up in what to say to him. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in his backseat. He rests his arm along the back of the seat and it is nearly touching your shoulder. The way his body takes up the space makes you feel small and helpless. Then, you remember you are small and helpless compared to him. He doesn’t feel threatening towards you but you certainly does give off the aura that he could be intense in the right circumstance. You find that undeniably attractive.
“Your folks called me last week. Told me you were gonna be staying here a while.” His eyes are back focused on you. “Meant to come over this weekend and introduce myself.” he seems a little nervous and takes another sip of his coffee. “Didn’t wanna bother you, though.” 
You feel a small smile start to grow on your face. The thought that he shared the same reservations brought comfort. Joel rests his thermos between his legs while still holding it with one hand. He looks like he is hesitating to say something but does it anyway. He looks over at you with tender eyes, 
“Didn’t expect.. You know...” He makes an unreadable expression as he is searching for the words and scans your body up and down. “Someone like you.” You were not entirely sure what he meant by that, but his smoldered stare on your body made you feel hot inside and your cheeks flush. He looked at you with intrigue and it made you feel good. It made you feel wanted. It had been too long since you felt that way.  
In fact, it has been too long since you had any sort of relationship. Even a casual lay.  
“You really saved my ass this morning. Thank you.” You pause and feel yourself giving a sultry gaze back at him. “I owe you one.” Joel makes a no big deal gesture with his hand and a cocky smile as he chews the inside of his cheek. In that brief moment you feel something between the two of you. The desire to flirt; tempt a man with at least 20 years on you. An unexpected but undeniable magnetic pull. A curiosity to learn what lies beneath. A forbidden fruit that is ripe and beckoning for you to take a bite. Something different. Something exciting. Something you know you should stifle before it even begins.  
His eyes reflect the same sentiment but also harbor concern and restraint. It’s a bad idea. The brief silence between you looms loudly. The elephant in the room. 
“Where ya’ off to so early anyways?” he asks, eager to change the subject. He takes another sip of his coffee while you reply.
“Oh, first day working at Grind. You know it?” Joel's demeanor changes in a subtle way that you may not have seen if you weren’t so focused on trying to read him.  
“Oh. Yeah..” he chides and looks down, pensive in thought as he brings his hand to the back of his neck and rakes it through his hair. “I know the place.” He glances back up and avoids eye contact. The bite in his voice does not go unnoticed, but you don’t pry. 
An uncomfortable subject; noted.   
“Better coffee than this I reckon” he says as he places his thermos back in the center console. He attempts to lighten the tone and then glances at his watch.
“I gotta get to work, sweetheart. Keep your car runnin’ for a bit and you should be all set. Probably get that battery replaced.” His tone is more serious now, more business-like. You realize you had been waiting in his truck longer than necessary. You really have to get to work anyways. 
You thank him again and return to your car. He waits for you to get in and raises his fingers off his steering wheel in a lazy wave to signal he was leaving. He backs out of your driveway and heads down the road towards town.
You take a deep breath and adjust the knobs in your car. Joel had put everything on high heat and full blast for you and your car was now unbearably toasty. You tune your radio and ease into the road and on your way to work. 
All the while your mind can’t stop thinking about your charming, handyman neighbor. 
So that's Joel Miller. You smile to yourself and faintly feel butterflies in your stomach. Anxious thoughts that excite and frighten you.  
It took Marlene all of five minutes to become your new work bestie. She was efficient and smart and knew her way around the place. She was the only one working when you arrived and despite the line of customers she was friendly and teased you for arriving late on your first day. 
Marlene had great rapport with everyone. It was apparent that the customers were all regulars and she wasted no time introducing you to them. She had a somewhat forward style but it was well received because she knew exactly what she was doing and didn’t waste time being flowery and over the top. It reminded you of the brashness of Boston.
After the morning rush things were relatively calm. You had time to chat and get to know her a little more while she was showing you the ropes. It wasn’t complicated and you were a quick study.
By mid afternoon it was time to close up shop. The hours were a perk. You were scheduled to work weekdays from open till close and would have to occasionally help out on Saturdays. Marlene worked the same shift and the weekends were mostly covered by high schoolers. 
It was just after 2 o’clock when the owner, Tess, stopped by. 
“How did it go?” she asks you both as she takes a seat and rests her bag on the counter. Marlene had no intention of telling her you were late and talked you up, pleased with your presence. Tess had a few other properties she owned so her time at the coffee shop was only as needed and Marlene you learnt was more or less the one who ran things day to day. 
You recap the day and thank her again for the job. You did genuinely enjoy the work. It was easy. Simple and straightforward. You got to know lots of town folk and everyone was curious and interested in meeting the new girl in town.
Tess seemed pleased enough and was quick to head out. She was friendly but brief and gave the impression she had other responsibilities that demanded her attention. She joins you behind the counter briefly and pours herself a black hot coffee in a to-go cup. Another perk of the job was indulging in all the free coffee. 
“Let me know if you guys need anything!” She says energetically as she collects her bag and heads out the door. She flips the sign to “closed” as she leaves. 
“Tess is cool. She doesn’t interfere too much and we only see her a few times a week, if that.” You nod to acknowledge Marlene. “Lets finish cleaning up and get out of here.”
It was nice leaving with the sun bright and warm. Winter meant shorter days, so getting out of work with a few hours of daylight felt luxurious. The bitter cold from the morning had made its departure. 
You had been so focused with work it wasn’t until you got back to your car that you allowed yourself to think about Joel again. You know you shouldn’t but can’t help feeling turned on at the thought of him. He was handsome in that brooding, mysterious way and he emanated competence. It was refreshing and welcomed. 
You decided to send him a text message. You had his number in your recent contacts after all and you were curious if he would play along. You were certain that there was something sparked between the two of you, but unsure if he would act on it. Unsure if there were too many obstacles between you.
You keep it simple and friendly.   
You: Thanks again for your help! 
Your car starts up with no issue and you head home. When you arrive you glance down to your phone to see a simple reply. 
Joel: Anytime
It was brief but you couldn’t help but read it with that low, southern drawl. His voice was so distinct. Polite but stern. You add him as a contact in your phone and wonder if he did the same. 
You take a shower, make some dinner and get comfortable in your bed. It’s early and you watch some TV when you hear your phone chime. You glance at your phone and see Joel Miller has you on his mind as he revives the conversation with you. 
Joel: So how did it go? 
You smile and recount this feeling like you were a teenager talking to your crush. You want to gush about your first day but you play it cool and brief. 
You: Went good, I think I’ll like it there
A few minutes pass. Against your better judgment you start to go into details but delete it before you hit send. You recalled his strange reaction earlier when you brought up Grind. This man has you second guessing yourself and you don’t want to blow it before it even begins. He replies instead before you elaborate.
Joel: Glad to hear. Thought you would. 
You: I’m exhausted though, getting to bed
You decide to be playful and see how he reacts. 
You: Goodnight, Mr. Miller.  
Joel: Just Joel. 
Joel: Goodnight darling
Darling. Even if it was just a typical Southern phrase it made you wild. It was uncommon to hear in the north and felt so endearing and warm. The knots in your stomach return as you struggle to fall asleep. Your mind is too excited to see where things go from here. You knew he was interested in you enough to keep talking. It would have been easy for him to end the conversation there and keep things formal and neighborly. 
Your mind wanders thinking about how truly handsome he is. How badly you want his manly, rough hands on your body. How his voice makes you melt. How his domineering  presence makes you tingle in your core. You feel yourself starting to get wet just at the thought of his body and what you wanted to do to it. What you wanted him to do to you. Sinful thoughts.
You slide your hand between your legs and feel yourself already wet and wanting. Your delicate fingers tease circles over your clit and it doesn’t take long before you get off. You feel ashamed to be lusting over an old man you barely know, but nevertheless wish it was Joel’s rough hands on you.   
You wonder if he is doing the same thing and sharing the same thoughts about you.
A few uneventful days go by and now it’s Friday. You haven’t seen much of Joel other than his truck occasionally driving off, but he had been stuck on your mind all week. Lonely nights accompanied by dirty thoughts of Joel that only fueled your yearning to get closer to him. Your inhibitions regarding age and disapproval of your parents were blinded by your building desire. It still weighed on you though. Your parents would be appalled and probably disown you if they knew. It would just be another tick on the disappointment list.   
Work is busy and the day flies by. Just a few hours to go. You are taking a break, sitting at one of the tables by the front window and snacking on a blueberry scone. You reason with yourself that tonight is as good as any to try to make something happen. 
You: You doing anything tonight?
An agonizing hour passes and no reply. Your message is on read. Marlene takes notice of your change in demeanor. When things finally slow down and its just the two of you waiting around to close up she presses you.
“So.. whats going on? You look distant.” 
“Just trying to… make friends here.” You pause. “A friend in particular.” Your voice trails off. Marlene catches on quick and she had suspected you were starting to fall for someone. 
“Anyone I know?” Marlene knows everyone. You don’t want her judgment on the matter so you keep it vague.
“My neighbor. He doesn’t seem the type to come to a place like this though.” Your phone chimes and you try to play down your excitement as you look down and see it’s from Joel. You can barely contain a smile. 
Joel: Just got done a job. No plans
Marlene searches your face and rolls her eyes.  
“Just go over then. Easy enough.” she was right. 
“Yeah, I think I will.” 
The rest of the shift goes by quickly and you are both out the door by 3 o’clock.
You sit in your car and decide to just call him already. You were craving to hear his voice again and you wanted to put him on the spot. He answers quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Joel. I still owe you, you know for helping me out earlier.” Joel sighs in defeat. 
“I see you aint lettin’ that go. What did ya have in mind?” 
“Can I come over tonight? I’ll bring over drinks.” Your offer was more forward than you intended, but you went with it.
“Yeah, ok. Sounds good.” He pauses and has a counter offer for you. “Come over for dinner first?” You melt at the thought and realize you haven’t responded and there is a silence while you are getting lost in your thoughts. “Grilling steaks. Nothin’ fancy.”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” You can feel your smile spilling into the phone. That sounds more than good. It sounds really fucking good.  
“Alright. Come over ‘round 7.” 
“Ok. See you tonight.” You end the call and take a deep breath. Your heart is beating out of your chest in excitement. 
Getting ready for the night you attempted a relaxed look. You wanted to look nice, but approachable. You had some worn jeans that tucked neatly into your Bean boots. A button down flannel that you left undone over an intentionally low cut, fitted shirt. It accented your chest just right. You wore your hair down and went light on the makeup. You threw on a light leather jacket and grabbed the six pack of beer as you head across the street. 
Joel opens the door and leans in the doorframe with a casual figure, taking you in while he bites his lip,
“Evening' sweetheart” He steps back and holds the door open for you and gestures to come in. He was definitely a gentleman. You normally are not a fan of the pet names, but he worked them into his vocabulary so smoothly it was welcomed. 
You step inside and turn around, holding up the six pack of beer.
“Sam Adams. That ok?” He shuts the door and nods in approval. “Figured I’d bring some Boston culture over.” You step further inside. His kitchen is just off the main entrance and has an island with some bar stools at it. You make your way over and take a seat and rest the case on the countertop. 
Your eyes scan the room. His kitchen is tidy, save the spot where he prepped the steaks. You see an empty whiskey glass. Evidence that he had at least one stiff drink before you came over. You panic a little and regret not doing the same.  
“That where you lived before this?” He interrupts your thought as he stands across you at the island. His crossed forearms holding him up as he leans towards you with intrigue. He is dressed plainly in a pair of worn jeans and a plain navy blue t-shirt that hugs his arms just right. His biceps bulge as he is leaning forward and your mind is now preoccupied with just how broad his shoulders are. You almost forgot he asked you a question.
“Yeah, for a few years anyways.” You briefly recount, distracted when Joel takes a beer bottle from the case and effortlessly pops the cap with his large, calloused hands. A satisfying hiss escapes the bottle followed by a clink as the cap falls to the countertop. He slides it over to you and repeats the motion again for himself.
“Oh, wow.” you say out loud, without realizing it. Joel has that cocky side smirk again, well aware of his impressive party trick. He holds the bottle up and towards you and you do the same, clanking bottle necks together and taking a sip. Your eyes are locked on each other for a moment; trying to read each other's intentions.  
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna put the steaks on.” he gestures his head to the back door that leads onto the deck. He grabs his suede jacket off the back of a chair and walks towards the back entrance. You trail behind and this was the first time you really noticed just how beautiful his home was. 
His open living room and kitchen had a vaulted ceiling with massive windows lining the whole back side of the cabin. It faced the lake and you could imagine how serene it would be to watch the sunrise. The cedar walls and flooring made it feel cozy and inviting. There was a large wood stove in the center of the living room and an open loft above the back of the living room. The deck seemed to wrap along a good part of the home. 
“Your home is beautiful.” It had looked so much more discrete from the road; tucked behind some pines and a long driveway. The backyard was a short distance to the lake and sloped slightly down to a dock. Joel probably had a boat parked there in the summer. The cabin was perched perfectly with a breathtaking view; isolated and private from the world.
“Thank you. I built it myself. Me and my brother Tommy.” 
“Thats… impressive.” 
“Eh, just comes with being a contractor. Made more sense to build my own place the way I wanted.” There it was again, that feeling in your core that excites you. Joel likes to be in control, and he has the skill set to back it up making it all the more alluring. 
Its a cool night, but not uncomfortably cold to be outside for a few minutes with a jacket. In fact, you are grateful to have the crisp air to help ground you and calm you down. It was embarrassing how easily Joel could work you up. You lean over the railing and gaze out over the lake while he tends to the grill for a moment and then joins you at the railing.
“I spent a few years there myself. Boston.” This was news to you, but you were still curious about his Southern accent. 
“And… before?” 
“Texas.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Most my life.” You smile and give a slight laugh. 
“Well, that certainly explains things. You don’t exactly sound like a New Englander” you tease him. Joel laughs and looks a little distant. Something you have come to realize about Joel is that he has a lot on his mind he doesn’t say out loud. His mysterious demeanor was something you found as attractive as it was frustrating. 
“You like it here so far?” He asks.
“I do. Its simple and peaceful. Life is easy here.” you realize while saying this out loud that you mean it. You really are enjoying your time in Kineo more than you ever had expected. “And… my neighbor isn’t so bad.” You tease. Joel rolls his eyes and returns to the grill, pulling the steaks off.
“Mine is a pain in the ass.” He jokes as he closes the grill. He wasn’t wrong. You were persistent if anything. 
Dinner is laid back and enjoyable. He has a small dining room table but you choose to sit next to each other at the island drinking your Sam Adams and enjoying your ribeye steaks. Joel cooked them to perfection. You stay seated long after you are done eating, getting carried away with conversation. Your bodies are facing each other and knees knocking into his as you get animated with your storytelling. 
Joel mostly listens while you ramble on. The more you drink the lower your inhibitions get. You are a lightweight to begin with and it doesn’t take much. You don’t even notice that he isn’t really listening to you anymore. His focus has left your well intended words and shifted to your body. He’s looking at your low-cut shirt teasing him. The way you brush your hair out of your face when you laugh. How your neck looks so inviting when you tilt your head back to take a sip of beer, You don’t register that he is eyeing you crudely like you are a piece of meat. That he is fighting every urge inside him to just lose himself with you. 
He inches his hand along the countertop closer to yours until he is grazing your wrist with a light touch and dragging his fingers back across yours. It sends a shiver through your body as you become aware how he is looking at you and how painfully reserved his touch is. It is polite but intrusive. He watches how it makes you feel. How you start to come undone. 
Your pent up feelings are starting to overwhelm you and you excuse yourself reluctantly. Your heart starts to race and you wonder if he can hear it beating. 
You get up and bring your plate over to the sink to wash it. It is a distraction more than anything while you gather yourself. Joel watches you from behind for a moment. You can feel his gaze burning into you and brace yourself against the counter. You like the way it feels. The way he makes you feel wanted. 
That loud silence returns. The air in the room feels heavy. He joins you at the sink and you can feel his heat envelop you as he approaches you from behind. His broad body boxes you in and makes you feel small and vulnerable. 
Joel takes his hands and dances his fingers down your arms lightly. His touch starts a fire inside you and you crave a heavier hold. You need him like you need air in your lungs. He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you. 
He agonizingly slides his hands down to your hips and turns you to face him. He pushes your body gently against the countertop and moves one of his hands up to caress your face. He presses his hips into you and holds your chin gently between his thumb and finger. He stares down at you with a thirst in his eyes. He narrows his focus to try to get a reading on you. Your mouths are just inches apart. There is a hunger he is resisting but the wolf inside is slowly starting to win over reason. 
“I want this, Joel.” You stare up at him and make sure he can see the desire in your eyes and that you are serious. You want to remove any hesitations he has on your account. You try to rock your hips into him but he has you pinned. He can feel your needy attempt.  
“We shouldn’t…” Joel pleads, but his words are empty and not speaking the same language as his body. 
Your age, your parents, your unfamiliarity with one another all should be reason enough to quelch this flame, but it just makes you want it that much more. He has wanted you since he first laid eyes on you that morning he came to your rescue. He wants to be respectful but fails, instead teasing you with how much he wants you. The hesitance is an illusion that he has kept up until that moment. Your body is trapped against his and he is looking at you like you are prey in his clutches. You had suspected and even hoped that Joel was a dominant lover with how confident he carried himself.   
You seize the opportunity to show him just what he is doing to you. 
You push your tongue into him and taste him; sweet and malty. His warm and wet mouth is inviting and intense. All reluctancy fades away as he gives in to you and takes control with his tongue. You can feel his cock is hard and straining against his jeans as he rocks into you. Your arms hang around his neck and tangle into his hair as you grind against each other. The friction of both your bodies sending each other into a frenzy.
He drags his mouth away, biting at your lower lip as he moves along your jawline to the soft skin at your neck. You stretch your head back giving him full access to your bare neck as he nips at you hungrily. His scruffy beard rubs roughly against your supple skin and feels so good. One hand roams up your shirt while his mouth traces lower and lower down to your collarbone. He thumbs and circles over your nipple. He can feel it harden through your bra and engulfs your breast with his large hand. His touch is brazen but you welcome it. You can feel just how badly he wants to devour you and it makes you moan.   
He slides his expert hand from your breast and drags it down to your jeans. He unbuttons them hastily with force and works his hand slowly inside. Your underwear is already wet from your arousal. He pulls his mouth away from you and has a devilish grin as he grabs at your pussy and narrows his eyes on you.
“You’re so wet for me.” He says breathlessly with anticipation while he has you in his grasp. 
He slides his hand inside your waistband and teases your clit as his hand slides against you. You want to reply to him but your words are trapped beneath the moans caught in your throat. He brings a finger to your opening and slowly pushes the tip inside you. The pressure from his large, calloused fingers makes you buck into him. He rubs his thumb over your clit as he slowly teases your entrance with his finger. He takes it slow and when he thinks you are ready he slips another one inside.
You can feel your walls clench around his obscenely thick fingers and he pushes deeper. Twisting and playing at your entrance and thrusting in. Your hips writhe in his grasp. While one hand is busy with your cunt the other has an iron grip on the back of your neck. His mouth messily returns to the soft skin above your collarbone and into the crook of your neck. You are completely at his mercy and can’t imagine any other place you’d want to be. 
You are so tight but he stretches you open artfully. Moans escape your lips as you gasp when his fingers dip further into you, reaching that perfect part deep inside. 
“Come for me.” He pants into you with a snarl as you convulse on him.  
He doesn’t let up and fucks you relentlessly with his fingers until you are coming and moaning his name. Incoherent expletives escape you while you soak him.   
You ride the wave of pleasure for as long as you can. It has been too long since you had fucked around with someone. However, no one had ever so masterfully gotten you off with just their fingers. The way he handled your body and worshiped you with his mouth was intoxicating. 
As you come down from your high he slides his wet fingers from inside you and pulls his mouth away with a final ravenous kiss on your swollen lips. He places a kiss on top of your head and pulls you in close for an embrace. The hard protrusion against your body makes itself painfully known.   
Joel presses his forehead against yours as he works to unzip his jeans and free himself. His fingers are wet with your slick. He smirks at you as his hand glides over his swollen cock and rubs your wetness all over his length. His breathing shallows as he strokes himself with one hand and braces his body on the countertop with the other. His swollen head grazes your belly with each thrust into his fist. 
You watch him wantonly as he palms himself with more vigor. Joel’s cock is thick and intimidating, but you crave it in the worst way. It is by far the largest you have ever seen. It glistens in your slick and the precum that was beading at the head. A desire builds inside you and you yearn for more of Joel. Want him in your hands, your mouth, your cunt.  
“Let me, please?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper. His hand slows and comes to a stop. He stretches out his arms to hold him up against the counter as he hovers above you and lets you take over. 
You reach out and grab on to him. You marvel at its size and how weighty it feels in your hands as you start to rub them up and down. His skin is hot and velvety smooth and pulled tightly. Your pace is much slower but more precise. You feel the veins bulge under your grasp as your fingers glide up and down his length.  
A moan hitches in his throat as you rub your thumb over his sensitive tip. You do it again and again. Teasing Joel Miller feels dangerous. You can feel how ragged he is and how close he is to coming. You want to make him come undone.  
“God, damn it.” Joel grunts under his breath. He peels back your hand and painfully pulls it off of him. His cock twitches at the loss of your touch. He stands up straight and towers over you as you shrink back.  
“Get on your knees.” He commands with his hand firmly on your wrist as he pulls your face closer to his. It sends a shiver through your body and you oblige. Any warmth in his eyes has been lost and he is staring at you; dark and menacing. He throws your wrist away and grips his hand along the side of your neck. His touch is rough and urgent. His fingers snake around to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer to him while you drop down. They twist into your hair and he has a hold on the back of your head. It doesn’t hurt, but his grasp is firm and might if you tried to fight it.  
He takes his cock back in his grasp with his other hand and pumps it. His movements are jerky and his breathing is labored. You can tell he is so close. He roughly pulls your head back by your hair to look up at him.
“You gonna’ finish what you started?” he asks with darkened eyes. “Then open up.” He commands you through clenched teeth. 
You respond with an uncontainable smirk. You part your mouth slowly and let your tongue hang out, never taking your eyes off his. You sit back onto your knees so that you are slightly under him and wait patiently. He widens his stance. His hand slides to the top of your head and tangles in your hair. You can feel him slowly starting to lose control and come undone before you while he strokes himself. You brace yourself, hooking your fingers into the back of his thighs and clawing at his jeans. You can smell his sex and feel his heat but he holds you just out of reach and makes you wait while your thirst grows. 
Finally he taps the head of his weighty cock against your tongue and you lick at his slit, sending him over the edge. He groans as his thick spend coats your tongue and drips messily onto your chin. You close your mouth around him as he begins to stall out and swallow, pulling the final drops of cum from him while you choke his cock with your mouth. 
“Good girl.” He rasps at you. “So fucking good.” His grip on you loosens and he tenderly drags his hand along your jawline. You relax your mouth and let him slide himself out. He groans when your tongue licks the underside of him as he pulls out. 
He thumbs over some of his mess that falls out of your mouth and curls his thumb over your bottom lip. You lick him clean and he moves to hold your face in his hands while you look up at him.
“My good girl.” His words shoot straight to your core and make you weak. He brushes your hair behind your ear and helps you up. He places another kiss on your head and wraps his arms around you. His hot and heavy body feels so good against yours. You tilt your head up and press your mouth into him one more time.
“Are we even now?” you joke. Joel smiles. Everything about him feels warmer. He peels himself away from you and steps back, leaning against the island. You adjust your clothes and zip yourself back up while he does the same.
“Actually… think I might owe you now.” Joel says with a playful tone. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and shakes his head at you like he can’t believe his predicament. You like the idea of Joel owing you. 
You don’t spend the night. He offers to walk you home but you opt to go alone. It felt good to get some fresh air, to clear your head and recap the night. You also wanted to leave him wanting more.
You weren’t sure what would come from this situation with Joel, but you knew you barely scratched the surface with him. He was rough around the edges but you liked that about him. You liked that a lot. 
END CHAPTER
(Part 2!)
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A/N: More to come! Undecided how many chapters but I have quite a bit mapped out. Please be kind. This is my first fic and it is nerve wrecking to post! If you loved it, PLEASE let me know. I'd love to know your thoughts so far! What did you like? What do you want more of? How much angst can your heart take? I aim to test it in future chapters. Comments/Reblogs are appreciated so much. Thank you all
Also special thanks to @magpiepills for the lovely cover photo (and her mood board inspirations she helped with along the way!) and to both her and @legendary-pink-dot for reading my first draft and giving their feedback AND courage to post this.
If you wish to know when I post the next chapter, please follow @ArcaneFoxFics and turn on notifications!
If you are here for my gifs only and are like WTF I dont want to see this mature content... you can follow me over at @ArcaneFoxGifs which will ONLY be reposts of my gif sets.
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Love to my friends who give me the courage and support to do all the things @magpiepillsjunior @legendary-pink-dot @exquisiteserotonin @youandmeand5bucks @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo
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slamminslamminmcgill · 7 months
Text
joel’s pussy eating game is RIDICULOUS!!!!! he claims to be into servicing ppl and he is but…. it’s more in service of himself tbh bc of how selfish and hungry he is
warning: squirting, oral, rimming
anatomical terms: cunt/pussy, clit/t-dick
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he’ll start slow to ease you into it. long, broad strokes of his flattened tongue up your slit. wet kisses dotting your clit. lots of spit to get you nice and wet for his tongue to just glide along your cunt however which way he sees fit.
and once your own juices start to flow, loosening you up for him, it’s blood to a shark. one drop hits his tongue and he’s GONE.
“fuckin’ christ, you taste good. yeah… yeah, i need more of that.”
joel smushes his face into your pussy, his stubble prickling your hypersensitive skin, and he fucking LATCHES his mouth on your clit, bouncing his lips off your sodden flesh as he sucks you off. soon you’re leaking enough that he can slide two fingers into you with ease. he curls them up into your g-spot and keeps them there, pushing your button over and over to get you to burst.
and may god help you if you squirt.
it splashes against his face and you hear a deep, rumbling, feral growl. it’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard from a man. one that reminds you of our basest urges, that we are naught but beasts at heart. horny fucking beasts possessed by pheromones and need.
“fuck yeah, c’mon. c’mon, gimme another.” he demands, starting his fingers right back up again, right into the swollen trigger point that has you gushing over and over. a firm hand cuts through the typhoon with a loud-
(SMACK)
on the meat of your ass.
“sit on my face. i wanna drink you.”
you peel yourself off his leather couch, knees buckling like a newborn fawn as you stand, and hobble over to where he’s laying on the carpet. he’s frantic, aggressive and repetitive in his orders.
“get over here... get over here, boy... get over here…”
your knees flank his head, facing his legs, and you lower yourself down until your pussy bumps his nose. he starts licking right away. you look down and his cock is throbbing, an angry shade of red. being that he’s been so generous to you, you see fit to return the favor. you lean down and take his cock in your hands, though you barely get to kiss it before joel intervenes.
“nope.”
he hooks his arms under your armpits, grabs you by the shoulders, and YANKS you backwards, pulling your face away from his cock and holding your back upright.
“nuh uh. fuck my face. i want you to use me. don’ worry ‘bout my cock, sweetheart, just fuck my face.”
you hesitantly hump his face, tiny jerks of your hips to get used to the feeling and get a rhythm down. as you grow accustomed to it, your soaked cunt easily glides across his face, your swollen t-dick bumps his lips and he sucks it in his mouth. his tongue swipes between your pussy and ass, your juices dripping down his cheeks.
eventually, you squirt again, just a tiny bit.
but it’s not enough.
“give it to me.” joel barks, and shoves his fingers back in for some not-so-gentle encouragement. “c’mon, kid, give it to me. squirt down my fuckin’ throat, c’mon. lemme drink you. gimme somethin’ sweet to drink, baby boy.”
you give him exactly what he wants, squirting right into his mouth in hot jets. his growl vibrates your entire cunt and he slurps it all up.
when it gets to be too much, you roll off him and onto the floor. the two of you lay side by side, gasping for air. his face is dripping, his wet hair resting on an incriminating wet spot on the carpet. you’re staring at the ceiling as it swirls, creating beautiful constellations in combination with the stars in your vision. joel reaches out and tugs you close to him. his overworked lips smooch your forehead, and he says,
“good boy. hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my fuckin’ life.”
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jolapeno · 8 months
Text
isn't it
din djarin x f!reader
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summary: at first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at. but, at some point between your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.
warnings: mentions of smut/alludes to smut. bad star wars writing (probs, i'm new forgive me). no use of y/n. brief mention/allusion of hand necklace (thanks @rhoorl for the term), m!oral, p in v. loosely season one/two, although likely au. wordcount: 1.7k an: a huge massive thank you to @saradika for firstly convincing me i could do this, and then letting me show her this so i could be assured i didn't butcher him. ily so much 🤍
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It’s beautiful.
The sound of wind rustling through it, how it waves in spots up and down the hill—moving side to side like a cosmic wave.
You thought you’d known green until now; thought you had known silver too, assumed you understood the way reflections worked and how quick movements could be. But that was before him.
Before you’d known the feel of his solid body lay on top of yours.
Then, you discovered a lot of things. Like how easy it was to spread your thighs on either side of him. For your fingers to seek in the dark—how they effortlessly hunt and find the parts he’ll expose to the night, but never to the light.
You even found you don’t hate the sound of your name when he says it. Somehow makes it longer, more impactful—like it has meaning when it comes from his mouth.
All of which were things you’d never known before you convinced him to bring you.
A promise, a barter—an exchange. Your hand clutching his blaster slugs, tears clutching to your lashes, flowing from your eyes—aware of what you look like, aware of the desperation you reek of.
Just take me to a different planet. A suitable one. Please.
At first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at.
A bogus reason, a ploy—all stemmed from a rising infatuation with the man under beskar. But, at some point between your cheek against the wall of his ship and your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.
But, this place is a gift—it’s a slice of heaven.
It had been a stop gap you’d almost pleaded at him not to make, a pause in the travel plan. Now you’re not sure you want to leave it.
Because here is a sea of greens, a variety, a never-ending display of every shade between the letters which make up the name. Some are more saturated, some are deeper; some are tinged with yellows and others are blotted with dark spots that aim to discolour, but just make them more unique.
There’s no bounty here—no collection to be made.
Just a sight for your eyes and a moment for him. And, you think you could sit here for hours and bask in it. Take it in. Allow the air of this planet to fill your lungs and carve a space inside of you that no one will ever be able to rip from you.
Stroking your fingers through the ground, you feel how your tunic presses to your spine—how it’s held there by the perspiration on your spine. The fabric desperate to blow, to whip around your ribs and the sleeves to float around your arms.
You don’t care that it’s warm—don’t mind that you can feel your skin prickling under it.
Because you’re lost in it, the limitlessness of this place. How surreal it is that each blade points north to the sky, all upright, anchored pleasingly to the ground it came from.
Things had been beautiful earlier too, you remind yourself.
When you had been enveloped by darkness, not a slither of light—not that there’d be the space for it in the small cot. His hands, forever a staple, an anchor, to your hips, determined to pin you there.
He’s a man who chases after those who run, and you suppose it’s ingrained in him. This belief that everyone, at some point, will leave—will go. You think it’s why he holds you tightly when you’re nothing but bare; you suppose it’s why after, when he unsheathes himself, he always traces his thumb over the places his fingers have been, reminding your skin he’s kind, just in case you need another reminder not to leave.
“We should go.”
You hum because you should. Yet, your mind rationalises that the baby is still asleep and there are more minutes to sit in the silence, to not dwell—you suppose it’s why your hand reaches up, and brushes over the gloved fingers instead.
Action is easier than words when it comes to him.
A game the two of you play, one of silence and strategy—wondering who’d be the first to crack and speak more words than necessary. You suspect it’ll be you in time, likely soon enough.
It’s why you clutch, cling. Weaving and working until you’re holding his fingers at an odd angle, a silent plea there, a wishful hope spoken without using syllables or your lips and mouth.
“One more minute.”
“Okay,” you respond.
Watching the strands move again, swaying, dancing.
A content sigh rolls from you, and briefly—in the back of your mind, you wonder if you’re really awake. Whether this is some form of peace your brain has concocted after the sight of him stained in crimson; his palms flat in the air, modulator expelling he’s fine, it isn’t his, he’s okay, it’s okay—
For a while, you’d believed him, until you felt the bruises—all pulsing and colouring in shades you can’t imagine. An image being drawn, shaded in—forever in black and white, just outlines and half-concocted feelings you have on what lives under his armour.
He sighs next to you, it rattling out through his helmet.
And you wait to hear it, the confirmation he normally hands you. Deep, even through his modulator that this “isn’t it” either.
It’s been a routine ever since the two of you began this dalliance. Ever since you’d smuggled yourself aboard his ship with the promise that you’d never ask him for anything else.
Neither realising how false that would be.
You beg for a lot. For more, for his lips, his fingers and his cock. You wait for the darkness, count down to it—thrum with excitement for it when he steps down the ladder and his helmet is aimed in your direction.
Somehow, no words are said, just mutual acknowledgement, acceptance. Or that's what you call it. It being seemingly better than admitting that you crave it—him. That you care, that the sight of him smeared in ruby still haunts you—lingers there, bleeds into good days and casts shadows while you wait in the hull. The child in your arms, soothing him—telling yourself you’re giving him comfort, when you suppose you gain more from the small being than you could ever provide.
“This isn’t it,” he eventually says from above.
His helmet turned, and you imagine the eyes that live under it. Question if they’re almond-shaped or hooded, whether they’re brown, green or blue. You also wonder if he looks at you with curiosity or want, whether it’s with a thousand thoughts running or none at all.
“No?”
“No. Not this one.”
That’s when you close your eyes. Let your ears do the seeing.
Allow your other senses to kick in, to swallow the lack of sight and make do. You end up lingering on the gloved hand in yours—the one which sometimes slides around your neck, lightly pinches either side as you moan at the feel of him. The same hand which slides down your spine to aid your motion, or lingers there when the terrain isn't trouble-free.
It's the remembering which makes you let go of it, of him.
Quickly managing to pretend your hand doesn’t feel cold when you do. Stuff down the emptiness that begins to drown you in the space you put between you, as you stand up. A part of you admitting defeat, silently saying goodbye to tall stands of green and the rolling hills adorned with shades.
“Thought you’d be sick of me by now.”
It rumbles from you. All heavy, laced in its own metal—ready to slam into him and take him down.
It doesn’t. You’re not sure any words ever could.
You suppose it’s why he says nothing, silently following, not too far so that you’re alone, but not close enough that you can feel the ghost of his touch. The distance measured, all purposeful. It remains so until you’re back aboard, until the door closes behind you and you’re once again surrounded by metal.
A part of you knows you shouldn’t grow used to him, shouldn’t be waiting for him to flood your spine with his chest. But you do—you really fucking do.
It’s why you don’t move, don’t take a step closer to check on the baby or even unclench your hand from around the strands of green you’d stolen. The ones you’d ripped up from the ground, roots tickling your wrist—the rest remaining tucked closely between curled fingers and a sweaty palm.
Yours. The smallest piece of a place you’ll likely never see.
“You should sleep.”
It’s an order. Direct—practically thrown at you. Followed by a tight grip on your waist, fingers finding the same place they always do. His place. The one not needing a mark, but he leaves them all the same, ownership, a possession.
Sometimes in the throes of it, you hear him hiss mine, jus’ mine—your head nodding in the dark, because you are, you know you are, the same as you suspect he knows he’s yours. It’s another thing which festers behind your teeth, keeping lips clamped shut, knowing it requires no confirmation, no words in exchange for the momentary slip-up he lets escape. But then, you offer nothing when you trace mine against him with your tongue, when you muffle the words around his shaft as your mouth widens to take more of him.
It’s just pleasure, an easy-to-choose solution to another body being in proximity—a lie you tell yourself.
One you bargain with when he sleeps and you’re coated in the dark, convincing yourself until sleep carries you away and you wake to find yourself either alone or the very opposite.
Because it’s easier, simpler. Far better than admitting your heart does a double take when he returns, that you yearn for him in the days that pass when he leaves you on the ship.
It’s less complicated than asking him if you’ll ever be worthy of seeing him.
And you’re not the type of person to question. So you don’t.
And so the routine continues.
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an: you don't know how long this has been burning in my head.
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fairyhaos · 1 year
Text
How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos
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[masterlist]
this post details:
DIALOGUING INTERESTINGLY
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hi gays and gals! the first post on starting and pacing a story did really well, so "how to fucking write" is back, with yet more advice and tips for everyone ^^ please feel free to let me know if there's something you want me talk about, because i'll be more than willing to see if i can help. also a reminder that i have a taglist for this series as well, and please reblog if you find this helpful :)
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# - HOW TO DIALOGUE.
.. bullet point one : grammar
okay guys, as a native english speaker, i'll be the first to tell you that this language fucking sucks in terms of its grammar, but when it comes to dialogue, understanding how it works even to some extent will help you branch out and vary the way you write dialogue, which makes it so much more interesting.
with dialogue tags (said, asked, etc) if the punctuation mark in the dialogue is not a ! or ? then it should be a comma.
example : [junhui + castle]
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as you can see in the first line, a comma is used rather than a full stop, because the sentence hasn't been finished yet. there's a dialogue tag, ('you correct'), that comes after it. and since the pronoun 'you' isn't a proper noun (i.e. a name) then it shouldn't be capitalised, because, again, the sentence hasn't been finished.
with action tags however, (he smiled, he stood up, etc) then it should be a full stop.
example : [i just made one up bc i don't use this a lot lmao]
"I disagree." He stood up, and walked over to close the door. "This isn't safe. You shouldn't go alone."
and now, since there is a full stop, it indicates that the speech is a sentence all by itself. that means the next word ('He') ought to be capitalised.
but the key part when grammar-ing dialogue in order to make it interesting depends on where you put the action and grammar tags.
if you constantly have lines that are just:
"dialogue," he said.
"dialogue," she said.
"dialogue but a bit longer," he said.
... then it can get repetitive, and annoying. by varying your dialogue structure, it can create more interesting dialogue.
example : [minghao + password]
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there's a variety of dialogue and action tags being used with each line of dialogue, preventing everything from sounding too repetitive.
the first line starts with a normal sentence, and an action tag. the second is a standalone line of dialogue with no tags. the second has the action tag in the middle of the dialogue. and the last has a dialogue tag in the middle of the dialogue.
by varying the ways in which you write your dialogue, it makes everything a lot more interesting.
.. bullet point two : verbs and adverbs
the easiest way to make dialogue interesting, though, is to use fancy words.
this can be by replacing 'said' with a range of other dialogue tags (see this really comprehensive list for a whole variety of different words), but i'd advise against overusing these. 'said' is your friend! it's the invisible dialogue tag, helps your reader read through your dialogue in comfort, but of course, if you wanna add a nuanced way of describing the dialogue, then replacing 'said' is the easiest way to make your dialogue interesting.
but don't overuse these. for me, i'd focus on action tags and adverbs.
use interesting adverbs that add description to how a character is saying something can go miles. and using action tags that break through what could have been a long section of characters just talking? it helps so much.
i'd recommend having onelook thesaurus open as you write. you don't have to type in just words: phrases, the overall vibes of the word you're thinking of, all of that can be typed into the thesaurus and they'll provide you with pretty good results each time.
it also really helps when you've forgotten a word and can only remember vague bits of what the word should feel like.
.. bullet point three : voices
the best way, however, is ultimately to create a character. write a personality for them, bring them to life, think about the way in which they would talk and then put that down onto paper.
it's difficult, perhaps the most difficult to do, because it's also so tricky to advise someone on how to do this. it's all about the character you want to create, the personality you envision for them, and the only person who can fully write that is you.
however, i would find a few 'ticks' of theirs and use them as indicators in your writing.
for example, in my seoksoo long fic, seokmin's tick is that he always "chirps" what he's saying. and beams. a lot. this identifies his character, makes him unique(ish), and establishes his personality and differs him to the other characters.
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but ultimately, it comes down to word choices, when you're writing a character voice.
like, your character describing something with elegant, floral language vs them going "this is so pretty". or perhaps making them stumble over their words when they're panicked vs them simply just going silent when they're flustered.
it's about being specific. about making choices with your words that would have english teachers analyse and unpick your writing, hundreds of years later.
(even if it's fanfic. especially if it's fanfic: because who knows how many fans may join your fandom in the next few years?)
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... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)
tagging (comment/send ask to be added!): @selenicives @stqrrgirle @weird-bookworm @eternalgyu @blue-jisungs (tough luck guys btw but youre gonna be tagged in this entire series ehehehe)
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diejager · 3 months
Note
Hello, can I request a Monster!141 with a hybrid centipede!reader? I wanted to send you a request a long time ago, but I'm a person who easily forgets ideas. You may not write about it if you are uncomfortable.
Cw: monster cod, a lot (and I mean a fuck ton) of insects, pranks, infiltration and spying used for pranks, tell me if I missed any. Note: you have enabled me to use my love of arthropods to the fullest, thank you :D
Gaz had grown used to the occasional, but many, centipedes he’d see crawling up the wall or scurry under the closest furniture. The amount of insect - he knew it wasn’t the right term, you’d remind him that not every crawling arthropods were insects, but he couldn’t, for the love of God, remember the exact word you used - he’s seen over the few months was eerie, something drastically odd for a base kept so clean and the occasional exterminator coming by to try and rid them of this infestation. Though a common sight, he simply couldn’t get comfortable with the tenseness of his back and the invisible itch on his limbs whenever he thought of a centipede. 
He assumed it was a normal reaction, Soap had felt it, and so had Horangi and Alejandro, the crawling sensation on the back of their necks or the spasm of their finger. Much unlike the others who didn’t seem bothered by it, easily brushing aside any hint that they faced a centipede infestation, unmoved when one would crawl right by their faces. Perhaps he was only paranoid or over thinking it, all his thoughts crying out how unnatural this was despite how normal they looked: a dark brown body of segments that gleamed under any light and sharp, fiery orange legs, moving in rhythm with the taping antennae. 
It was always the same exact centipede —or it seemed so, the same shape, the same size, the same intimidating appearance. He couldn’t figure out the species without catching one, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it alone in case anything went wrong and it spooked him. So, he’d forced others to help him, having a squeamish Soap and a relaxed Rudy scout the open areas of the base with a transparent cup in hand. 
And when they did find one, Gaz was quick to slap the cup over one before it could scurry off - knowing how fast one can run - watching it’s legs carry it over the top of the cup, run circled and seemingly panic. Gaz almost felt bad for it while he waited for Rudy and Soap look up the species, the quiet tapping of its antennae against the plastic cup and snapping jaws (“Forcipules,“ Rudy had corrected him with a sly smile.). He wonder-
Crkk crkk
Gaz jolted towards the sound, eyes wide at the hundreds of centipedes gathering around them. An ocean of dark mass and cluttering that made Soap shudder and him step back from the one they kept imprisoned. He was amazed at the gathering, clustered around the cup to push it up and free their missing brother.
“Steamin’ Jesus!” Soap was quick to back as far away as he could from the swarm. 
Even Gaz was a bit panicked by how many there were, an innumerable amount of insect that not even an exterminator could possibly kill. 
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rudy laughed at something. Someone? It didn’t make sense, he wasn’t looking at Gazor Soap with those words, but the… the centipede?
He watched in horror and awe at the slowly forming shape, giants arthropods grouping up and climbing over each other until it finally took shape. You. You were the centipedes?!
“Of course, Rudy,” you chuckled smugly, eyeing both him and Soap from your spot beside Rudy, “And I’ve learned somuch.”
You learned so much… Gaz dreaded to know what you heard from any, if not all, of them.
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting
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thewritingrowlet · 4 months
Text
The Outing Trip pt. 2, ft. tripleS Xinyu and Dahyun
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tags: cheating, cum-in-mouth, creampie, ass play, (a bit) rough
word count: ~10k words
author's note: I was 3k words deep into this shit when I realized that I didn't have any picture of them together so here's their pictures from the GND showcase. In terms of plot, I initially wanted Dahyun to have a bigger role but then I decided that I'd give her the spotlight in a future part instead.
Anyway, thanks always for reading <3
p.s. Wolfie if you see this again; send me another idea on June 12th (oddly specific, I know). Thanks in advance. <3
-
[🐈‍⬛| 08:02]
Oppa
Don’t forget
We have a meeting with everyone today at 1545
Don’t forget to bring Xinyu with you
“Xinyu-yah”, you call out to Xinyu, who’s busy getting dressed in the bedroom, “Nakyoung just reminded me of today’s meeting”. Xinyu gets out from the bedroom after she’s done changing, “yeah, she just texted me as well. You don’t have classes today, do you, oppa?”. You get up from the sofa and shake your head, “I’ll take you to campus, baby. I’ll refuel the car after dropping you off”. She shoves you in the chest and you’re sat back down on the sofa, “it’s like 8, let’s chill for now”. Xinyu then sits on your lap and tucks her head against your neck, “I always like how you make me feel small even though I’m taller than most people”. You chuckle and peck the top of her head, “you can thank my dad for his genes, precious”. She squeals at the pet name, “aww, that’s a new one, isn’t it?”. “Not really”, you say, “I said it last Monday when I was lulling you to nap—remember when you were resting your head on my lap? You probably already drifted away to dreamland when I said that, though”. “Oppa, I want to take a little nap like this until it’s time to leave, okay?”, Xinyu says as she steals a peck on the neck from you.
After a few minutes of seated cuddling/napping, it’s now 10 minutes before Xinyu needs to leave for class. You want to make sure that she’s in the correct state of mind before you take her to campus, so you attempt to wake the napping fox. “Honey”, you say as you give her some taps on the back, “we need to leave soon”. She looks around her as she gathers her consciousness, “huh? Already?”. “Yes, already. Now let’s wake up and get ready, okay?”, you pepper her face with kisses to help her wake up. She holds your head to make you stop, “give me a reason why I should go to class and give up the chance to be spoiled by my boyfriend all day long—it better be a very good and rational one, oppa”. You crank the gears in your head to come up with an answer for your clingy sweetheart, but you only manage to come up with the most dull and basic answer of all time: “your education is important, love—what would people say when they hear that the vice president refuses to go to class because she wants to stay at home with her boyfriend?”. She huffs in false annoyance, “I don’t care about what people say, oppa. The world is ours and they’re merely leasing in it”. “C’mon, let’s not say such thing, love. I’ll carry you to the car, okay?”, you lift her by her thighs and stand up from the sofa.
-
You’re now in the car, on your way to campus to drop Xinyu off before getting fuel for your car. You notice that she hasn’t made any sound since you two left the parking lot, so you look at her and see that she’s asleep again. You suspect that she’s not feeling too well and not in the best mood, so you decide to make a quick detour to get some ice cream for her—thankfully she doesn’t wake up when you’re in the drive-thru because that’ll spoil the surprise.
“Cutie pie”, you softly tap Xinyu in the arm, “we’re here”. “I’m not feeling too well, oppa. I’m having a period right now and it’s not pleasant”, she says with a weak voice. The tone and manner of her speech makes your heart ache because Xinyu is never one to act like this. “Honey, look at me, please”, you grab a cup of ice cream and show it to her, “I have some ice cream for you. I hope this helps”. She smiles despite the discomfort and takes the ice cream from your hand, “thank you so much, oppa. Your kindness keeps reminding me of why I fell in love with you”. You pull her to you and peck her lips, “I love you, baby. Please hang on until the end of the day, okay?”. She says her farewell before getting out of the car with ice cream in hand, and you wait until she disappears from your sight before driving away.
-
Xinyu greets you in front of the classroom where the meeting is taking place but instead of leading you in, she pulls you around the corner instead. She pulls you into her embrace and hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for the ice cream, oppa. I’m so sorry for being annoying all the time”, she says. You peck the top of her head in response; “you’re not annoying, baby. How can I say that you’re annoying when I don’t know exactly what you were going through? It’s not fair for you”. She lets go of the hug and wipes her glassy eyes; “you’re gonna make me cry if we keep hugging. Thank you, oppa, seriously”. You take her hand and walk into the classroom with her to get ready for the meeting.
“Hey, look who’s here with me”, Nakyoung says when she sees you two enter—Yooyeon is sitting on her left while Dahyun and Chaeyeon are on her right. “Unnie, hi”, Xinyu waves at her. “Hey, guys”, Yooyeon replies with small waves of her own. “Are you going to be with us for the meeting, Yooyeon-ah?”, you ask her. “I was about to ask if I can, actually. Nakyoung-ie told me to ask for your permission”, she says. You shrug, “I don’t mind having a spectator. We’re getting food after as well so it’s easier like this”. You walk to the four girls and give Dahyun and Chaeyeon a fist bump, “welcome to the council, you two. Run for presidency when you can, okay?”. “Thank you, oppa. We won’t disappoint”, Dahyun says.
-
Nakyoung told you a few days ago that she wanted to run this meeting, so you take a seat among the 30-something person crowd and let the spokesperson cook. “Alright everyone”, Nakyoung starts as she stands in front of the class, “I’ll be the one speaking today, since Jisung-oppa is having a sore throat today. Let’s get started, shall we?”. Xinyu leans over and whispers to you, “your throat is sore, oppa? Must’ve been the ice cream”. You chuckle and shake your head, “no, it’s not; she made that up”.
Nakyoung kicks off the meeting by explaining the when and where of the trip; 3 days 2 night from September 29th until October 1st on the island across the strait. She then continues by explaining the method of transportation to get there, which is by bus, which will get on a ferry to cross the water before getting off and continuing the ride until you arrive at the resort. Lastly, she announces that each room will be occupied by 3 people and that everyone is allowed to choose who they want to share the room with, as long as they’re of the same gender. She skips the “who” part of the 5W1H because it’s obvious already; who else is participating if not the members and leaders of the council? Nakyoung takes a sip of water and catches her breath before answering a bunch of questions from people in the room. After answering all of them, she sees that no one else raises a hand, so she ends the meeting and tells them to send her an email should they have questions.
Only the 6 of you remain the classroom after everyone else has scattered to continue their day. “Good job, Nakyoung-ah. You did well”, you praise her. She pulls Xinyu to her feet and hugs her, “aaaah, I’m so tireeeed. Is this how it’s always like for you, oppa?”. You chuckle as you get up from your seat, “kind of. You get used to it, though”. Yooyeon chimes in and tells her perspective, “I haven’t got used to it even though we’ve had a bunch of meetings already. Being in the center of attention overwhelms me”. You offer a hand for Dahyun and Chaeyeon to help them up. “Let’s go get dinner, girls. It’s on me, just like usual”, you say as you lead them to the door.
-
“Does anyone have any idea where we should go?”, you ask the crowd in your car. “Dahyun-ie’s restaurant! I want burgers, oppaaaa”, Nakyoung raises her hand and exclaims. “Any objections?”, you ask once again but get no answer. “Alright, Dahyun-ie’s restaurant it is”, you say. You glance at the rearview mirror and see that Dahyun is covering her cheeks, presumably to hide her blush. You look forwards again and keep driving until you get to your destination.
-
“Alright, girls; we’re here”, you look around the car and see that everyone was asleep—no wonder the ride was super quiet. Everyone but Xinyu gradually wakes up after hearing your announcement, as they reach for their stuff and slowly get out of the car. You get out of the car and sprint to the other side to help Xinyu get out. “Please carry me, oppa”, she says. You’re concerned if maybe she’s in pain, “are you okay, baby? Does your body ache?”. “I’m okay, just feeling extra clingy today”, she says with a teasing smile. You repay her smile with one of sweetness before giving her a piggyback ride to the restaurant.
“Mom, I’m bringing my friends again!”, Dahyun greets her mom as your group enters the restaurant. “Omo! Welcome back, children”, Mrs. Seo waves to you and your friends, “what’s wrong with the miss on your back, Jisung-ah?”. “She’s having a period so she’s not feeling so well right now. Xinyu-yah, say hi to Mrs. Seo”, Xinyu waves cutely after hearing your words. Mrs. Seo puts her hands on her chest, “and you’re carrying her like that? Oh, how cute and nice you are”. You deflect her words and line up in front of the cashier with the girls to order. After everyone has finished ordering, you pay for everything (without forgetting the extra) and head to your group’s favorite spot near the wall.
-
Everyone but Xinyu has now completed their meal, so the 5 of you stay seated and wait for her—Dahyun’s mom gave Xinyu an extra serving of fries, so combine that with the fact that she’s not feeling well, it takes her longer to finish her food. Since you’re sitting next to Xinyu, you’re able to offer comfort her and encourage her to keep eating. Chaeyeon praises you for being a good boyfriend to Xinyu and that you and Xinyu are really meant to be together. You thank Chaeyeon for the kind words and pray that you’ll get to spend the rest of your life with Xinyu, because there’s no one else that you love more than her.
You see Dahyun get up from her seat and stand next to Xinyu before whispering something to her ear. Xinyu replies to whatever Dahyun just said with a nod, so Dahyun walks up to you and whisper in your ear. “Oppa, my parents want to talk to you. Follow me, please”, Dahyun says. You give her a nod and follow her to some office space tucked away in the back of the restaurant.
Once you enter, you see that the room she has led you into is actually empty. “Where are your parents, Dahyun-ah?”, you ask her as you look around the room. “Oh, they’ll be here soon”, Dahyun says as she approaches you, “I told them to join us when I tell them to. I want some private time with you first”. You look at her in confusion, and that’s when she pulls you down by your nape and kiss you. Dahyun breaks the kiss after a minute and rests her head on your chest. “What was that, Seo Dahyun?”, you ask her. You don’t hear any answer from her, but you do hear some sobs. “I love you, oppa, but I know I have no chance against Xinyu-unnie. There’s no way that you’ll leave her for me, is there?”, she says after a sniffle. “Dahyun-ah”, you say as you wrap your arms around her slender torso, “what are you saying right now? What does Xinyu have to do with anything?”. Noticing that you’re hugging her, Dahyun rids of any thoughts that’s holding her back and hugs you. “I just wish that you were mine, oppa, but we both know that it’s highly unlikely to happen”, she confesses.
You take a deep breath before pulling away from the hug. “Please don’t cry; I hate seeing girls cry”, you say as you wipe the tears on her cheek, “can we get your parents after this? The sooner we can get this out of the way, the better”. “I lied”, she confesses, “I just wanted to have some private time with you”. You can’t believe your ears; “excuse me?”, you question her. “I lied to you and Xinyu-unnie—is she always that gullible, by the way?”, she says. “Yes, she is”, you admit and sigh, “I’m getting out of here. The last thing I want today is breaking Xinyu’s heart by lying to her”. She grabs your wrist as you start walking away, “can I at least tempt you with a blowjob?”. “No, I get that a lot from Xinyu already”, you say, resolute and clear—not sure why you need to flex your sex life to Dahyun, though.
You return to the dining area and see that Xinyu has eaten all her food. You get on a knee next to her so that you gauge how she’s feeling based on her expressions. “Good job finishing them, baby. How are you feeling right now?”. Nakyoung answers your question for Xinyu, “she said she wants to go home soon, oppa”. “You do, sweetie?”, you ask Xinyu, and she replies with a nod. You get back on your feet and look at the crowd, “are we ready to go?”. “Just leave, don’t worry about us”, Yooyeon says, “go, take Xinyu home. I’ve been in her shoes before, and I wished I had had a boyfriend like you at the time”.
-
You carry her out of the car as soon as you arrive at your building and hustle straight to the bedroom. “Let’s lie down for a second, okay? I’ll get you some water and clothes”, you say to her after setting her down in bed. “No!”, she blurts out, “just-just be in bed with me, oppa, please”. You grant her request and get in bed to cuddle with her, and Xinyu promptly wraps her long limbs around different parts of your body. “Oppa, you won’t leave me for anyone else, right?”, she asks, as if knowing of what happened in the restaurant with you and Dahyun. “Never, princess”, you assure her with a short but genuine answer. She pecks you in the neck before continuing, “I don’t care if I sound like a broken record every time I say it, but I really mean it every single time, oppa”. “I would much rather listen to a broken record than be the cause of a broken heart—does that makes sense, by the way?”, you say, earning a small chuckle from Xinyu. “I don’t know if it does, but I don’t care; my stomach hurts too much and I don’t want to think about anything”, she says.
-
Two weeks have passed since Dahyun’s little stunt, and it is now Friday on the 29th of September which can only mean one thing: day 1 of the outing trip. “We should give this trip a name”, Nakyoung says. “You should come up with it”, Xinyu and Yooyeon say at the same time—Yooyeon isn’t coming along, but she wants to be there when you leave. “Sure, I’ll try—you guys like making me do stuff, don’t you?”, Nakyoung says.
Yooyeon then turns to you, “Jisung-ah, can we talk for a second?”. You nod and walk to the other side of the bus with her to get some privacy. “What is it?”, you ask. Yooyeon rubs her forehead with a palm before speaking, “Dahyun-ie told me everything”. You signal to her to keep talking, so she does. “Will you be okay? Xinyu is also on this trip with you”, she asks. You take a deep breath before answering; “I’ll be fine. I’m planning to address it with her at some point during the trip”. Yooyeon gives you an encouraging smile and a fist bump. “Whatever decision you two come up with, try to make it easier for her, okay? She has a good heart, and I would hate to see her lose it”, she says. ”Oppa, where are you? We need to leave!”, Xinyu shouts from the other side of the bus. “That’s my cue”, you give Yooyeon a friendly hug, “I’ll see you on Monday, okay? I’ll treat you guys to lunch”.
You go back to where everyone was gathering and see that they’re getting on the bus one by one. You hold Nakyoung and Xinyu by their wrists to prevent them from getting on. “I’m counting on you two”, you say to them, “help me run the show, please”. They both give you a nod simultaneously, so you let them go and get on the bus with everyone. “Make sure nothing catches on fire when we’re away, okay? See you on Monday!”, you say to Yooyeon as you wave your goodbye, and she waves back with a smile. Once you are seated, the bus starts moving, thus marking the beginning of your last council initiation trip before graduating.
-
“We’re getting on the ferry, guys”, the co-driver says as the bus rolls onto the ship, “you can get off the bus if you want to. Just make sure you’re back in your seat in one hour”. After being given permission to get off, you walk to the upper deck to take in the sight of the strait. You lean against the railings and feel the fresh and relaxing breeze blowing at you. “Never knew how good it is to be on a ship. I wonder if mama and papa would be down for a cruise trip—for their anniversary, maybe? I should call them later”, you say to yourself
You close your eyes and savor the sense of freedom the sea is giving you, and you feel a hand on your back. “Hi, baby. Here for the wind as well?”, you say without looking. “I like how pet names escape your lips so naturally all the time”, the voice says. “Wait, that’s not Xinyu’s voice. That’s—“, you turn your head and see Dahyun in front of you. “Can I help you?”, you say, trying your best to stay composed. “You can, actually”, she says before pulling you away from the railings to hide behind a wall. “Stay still, please”, she tells you as she gets on her knees in front of you, “you know where this is going, don’t you?”. You can’t help but panic now, “Seo Dahyun, are you out of your mind? Xinyu will feed us to the sharks if she sees this”. “Please, oppa. Just this one time—Xinyu-unnie is busy with the other recruits right now”, she begs you.
You let out a deep sigh and start taking off your pants and boxers, piling them on your ankles. “Oh my God”, Dahyun exclaims, as she wraps her hand around your cock, “now I’m really envious of Xinyu”. You grit your teeth at the sensation, “that’s Xinyu-unnie to you”. “Fuck you”, she says before putting her lips around your cock. If Dahyun wasn’t on her knees with your cock in her mouth, you’d be offended and scold her, but she is, and you can’t think straight right now. “You better make this worthwhile, you slut”, you warn her. She removes your cock from her lips with a teasing smile, “keep the names for when you’re fucking me, oppa”, she says before continuing her work on your cock.
You’ve gotten a lot of heads before from your beloved, but Dahyun is doing an exceptional job right now: the way she’s licking the underside of your cock as her head moves along your shaft is different to how Xinyu usually does it. “This is a terrible time to think about Xinyu—fuck, I’m so sorry, my love”, you think to yourself. “This is the longest I’ve seen a guy last”, Dahyun says, taking a break from stuffing her face with your cock. “Are you going to finish this or what? If you can’t make me cum first try, you don’t deserve a second time”, you tease her. “Oh, I will, no need to worry about that”, Dahyun wipes her mouth before taking you in it again.
“You’ve had enough fun. Time to do it on my terms”, you say. You take her gloriously thick jet-black hair in your hand and start fucking her mouth deep. “Xinyu never gags, so you better not gag”, you provoke her—it’s not that Xinyu doesn’t gag at all, it’s just that she’s gotten more and more familiar your cock with every blowjob she’s done. You push the back of her head into your crotch and feel your tip hit the back of her throat. “Stay”, you command, and she does as you say (not that she has other options). After staying in that position for a few seconds, Dahyun starts gurgling loudly, so you show her some mercy and leave her mouth. Dahyun coughs and pants as she massages her neck, “holy shit, how does unnie do this all the time?”. “Because unlike you, she’s a good girl”, you then yank her hair and make her look up, “I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re gonna swallow it without letting a drop leak, is that clear?”. “Yes, oppa”, she says between pants. “Wrong fucking name”, you say sternly and yank her hair again. “Oh, fuck, my hair—yes, daddy”, she corrects herself.
You put your tip on her lips again and she opens her mouth obediently. “Be good”, you say as you start fucking her mouth harder and faster to chase your orgasm. You take it up a notch and pinch her nose shut as you fuck her face. Your brain starts wondering if you’re trying to make her your side slut, but that’s a question for later. For now, you’re aiming to shoot your load into her stomach. “I’m cumming, slut”, you say, as you release drop after drop after drop of cum into her mouth. The suddenness catches Dahyun off guard and makes her choke, but she tries her best to adhere to your command anyway.
You remove your cock from her mouth and see Dahyun swallow your cum in one gulp. “Good girl”, you praise her. You help her up to her feet and hug her, “let’s make sure no one knows this, yeah?”. “Yes, oppa”, she says, “I have a new idea, oppa”. You squint your eyes, expecting her to say something wild, “and that is?”. She looks at you straight in the eyes and utters her idea, “I can be your side girl, oppa”. You’re taken aback by her words, “what the fuck are you saying right now?”. She shrugs, “I figured since I can’t steal you from unnie, I’ll just be your side girl. You can come to me if Xinyu-unnie is unable to, um, please you”. The angel sitting on your right shoulder is yelling at you to say no, but the devil’s urge is stronger right now and you’re succumbing to it. “Sure, just make sure to keep this between us. Now let’s get out of here”, you say, feeling uneasy.
-
The 1-hour break flew by, and now you’re sitting on the bus again with Xinyu next to you. She leans her head on your shoulder and sighs, “where were you, oppa? I didn’t see you at all". Your eyes shake in nervousness, “I was sightseeing on the upper deck, baby. What about you?”. “Nakyoung-ie suggested that we should talk to the recruits and know them better considering who we are, but since you were away, I represented you and now I want to sleep”, she says with a yawn. You chuckle and pat her in the back, “that’s my girl. Get some sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up when we arrive”. “Your girl, huh? The one you just betrayed by getting a side chick? You’re fucking shitting me right now”, the angel insults you—you never knew an angel was capable of swearing, but you deserve it right now.
-
“Alright, guys; we’re here”, the co-driver announces. You tap Xinyu in the back a few times to wake her up. “Wake up, sweetie; we’ve arrived”, you say to her. “I wanna go home, oppa”, she says with a pout. “We’ll be home before you know it, love. Patience for now, please”, you persuade her. “I want your cock tonight”, she whispers to you, and you try your hardest to not blush (and get a boner).
You see the co-driver open the door, so you get up from your seat and get off the bus followed by Xinyu and everyone else. You ask everyone but Xinyu and Nakyoung to wait outside the resort complex while you go in and get the keys from the reception desk. “Good morning, miss. We’re from the Silicon Summit State University”, you say to the lady sitting at the desk.  “Good morning to you as well. Please wait a moment”, she says as she opens the book in front of her, “I’ll get your keys so please have a seat”.
She returns to you after a few minutes with a bag filled with keycards. “Here are your keys. Have a good stay and please don’t mess anything up—the hall is ready for use, by the way”, she says. You take the bag from her and say your farewell before leaving the front office.
“Attention, please”, you say in front of your crowd, “find the roommates you want to share a room with and line up in front of me with your group so that I can give you a keycard”. They do as you say and make groups of 3 with their preferred roommates. One group after another lines up in front of you, and you give each group a keycard to their room until every group has one. Everyone walks away to find their rooms, leaving the three of you alone with no keys left. “Did you miscount?”, you turn to Nakyoung. “11 rooms for 33 people and 1 room for Professor Kim, no?”, she says. “33 people? You didn’t count us, you dummy”, Xinyu pinches Nakyoung’s cheeks. “Wait, wait—aaaah, I’m so sorry”, Nakyoung says as she tries to push Xinyu away. Xinyu lets go of Nakyoung’s cheeks and turns to you, “so what do we do, oppa?”. You dismiss their worry, “it’s fine. I’ll head back in there and ask for 2 more rooms for you two and myself—I’ll pay, don’t worry”.
“Excuse me, miss”, you say to the lady again, “my friend miscounted how many people we have in the group, so now we need 2 more rooms. I sincerely hope you have some vacant ones right now”. She nods and fiddles with the computer in front of her, “we have 6 empty rooms right now and 2 of them are on opposite ends of the same corridor”. You sigh in relief, “I’ll take that 2, please”. She nods again, “sure, the previous 11 have been paid in full so you only need to pay 2”. She then tells you the sum and you hand her your card. “What about the breakfast and dinner buffet, miss?”, you ask as you enter your PIN. “No worries, I’ll tell the other staff members about the situation so that you can sit and eat with everyone”, she says as she hands your card back to you.
“Hey, girls”, you call out to Xinyu and Nakyoung, who then walk up to you. “Here’s your card. I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with Xinyu”, you hand Nakyoung a keycard. Xinyu looks at you in surprise, “I’m not sleeping with you?”. You shake your head, “you’re not. We don’t want the others to libel us”. Xinyu takes the card from your hand, “I’m so sorry, oppa. I’ll make it up to you one day”. “Don’t worry about it”, you pet her head, “now let’s get some rest before we start doing stuff, okay?”.
-
You walk with Xinyu and Nakyoung to find your rooms and get in as soon as you find it. “I’ll see you in 2 hours”, you say before closing the door behind you. You drop your bag on the bed and feel your phone vibrating in your pocket.
[🍒]
You’re alone, aren’t you?
Wanna fuck my face again?
[👑]
How did you know?
No, not in the mood
[🍒]
Curious much?
Just tell me if you want to cum
ㅋㅋㅋ
“I need to fuck some obedience into this girl, don’t I?”, you say with a sigh after. You throw your phone on the bed and start opening your back to get some shower supplies. You don’t like the soap and shampoo they offer at hotels and resorts because they don’t make foam. You then head to the bathroom to get a quick shower to refresh yourself after the long ride and the blowjob Dahyun gave you on the ferry.
-
The 2 hours are up, and now it’s time to go to the hall to officially start the initiation trip. You meet Xinyu and Nakyoung outside the hall, and Xinyu immediately runs to you and hugs you. “I miss you”, she says with a sad tone. “Cutie, it’s only been 2 hours”, you chuckle, “we’ve been apart for longer before”. “Yes, but not when we’re in the middle of nowhere”, she defends herself. You see Nakyoung roll her eyes, “oh, c’mon. 2 hours without oppa won’t kill you, and we’re not in the middle of nowhere, damn it”. Xinyu lets go of the hug to scold Nakyoung, but you pull her back into the hug by her wrist. “Calm down, please. This isn’t my apartment, let’s not make a scene here”. After taking a few seconds to calm down, you drag the two girls into the hall.
“Good afternoon, everybody”, you greet the council members, and they immediately look up from their phones. “Some of you have done this before while some others haven’t, but please allow me to welcome you all the same. I understand that this initiation trip might look or feel pointless to some of you, but it’s important to see this as an opportunity to get to know everyone better. You guys will spend a lot of time working with each other on projects, and that includes me, the vice president, and secretary”, you say and get collective nods as a reply.
“Now, let’s start by introducing ourselves, starting with me. My name is Jung Jisung. I was born in 2001, so this is my last dance both in the council and university. It has been an honor to be the president of the council, and I look forward to working with you guys in my last year—also, it’s okay if you find my title to be weird or cringe; I cringe when I hear people say that title out loud as well. Feel free to call me anything but sunbaenim, please”, you end your introduction with a small bow, “I’ll let those two girls introduce themselves”. Nakyoung pushes Xinyu to go first, so she takes a spot next to your right to introduce herself. “Hello, everyone. My name is Zhou Xinyu, born in 2002 in China. I was Jisung-oppa’s running mate back then and now I’m the vice president. I look forward to working with you guys as well”, she says. There’s nowhere Nakyoung can hide now, so she steps up to introduce herself. “Hi, hi”, she starts, “I’m Kim Nakyoung. I was also born in 2002 but unlike her, I was born in South Korea. Officially, I’m the secretary of the council but outside the office hours, I follow these two around like a third wheel”.
“Thank you, you two. Aside from the three of us, we also have a treasurer named Park Jaehwan, but he’s currently hospitalized for Dengue fever. In case you didn’t know, we also have governors who lead their own councils on the faculty level, and you’ll meet them soon as we collaborate for projects like community service”, you say, “now, let’s continue the train and have everyone introduce themselves”. At your words, Dahyun runs to the front with Chaeyeon behind her. “Hellooo!”, she says excitedly, “my name is Seo Dahyun but you can call me Soda. I was born in 2003 in Busan. I look forward to making memories with you guys”. You chuckle in amusement, “thank you, Dahyun-ah. Next person, please”. “Hi, hi, hello”, Chaeyeon says while waving, “I’m Kim Chaeyeon, born in 2004. I also look forward to making memories with you guys”. “Thank you, you two. Ministers, it’s your turn to shine now—you don’t want to lose out to these two, do you?”, Nakyoung says.
Like a real government, you also have a handful of ministers in your council. They are basically group leaders who have a handful of council members working with them and are usually tasked with coming up with projects and helping run things at the university level and sometimes the faculty level as well. In fact, one of them is coming up to introduce herself right now. “Hiiiiii”, she drags out her greeting in excitement, “my name is Park Aecha and I’m currently the minister of public relations. I was born in 2003 in Seoul and Park Jaehwan, the treasurer that Jisung-oppa mentioned earlier, is my older brother—please pray for him, by the way. Welcome to the council, guys!”.
As another minister walks up, Aecha leaves her spot to sit down again, but you pull her to the side first. “Aecha-yah, if you want to leave first, just say the word. We’re not holding you hostage here”, you say to her. “Thank you, oppa. I’m planning to leave tomorrow afternoon after the interviews, if that’s okay with you and the two girls. Only the three of you matter to me”, she says. “I guarantee you that we’re 1000% okay with that. If you hear anyone say otherwise, just tell me who and we’ll throw them into the strait”, you assure her. Aecha smiles and nods before leaving you to head back to her seat.
-
“Thank you for introducing yourselves, everyone”, Nakyoung says, “we will take a break for 2 more hours before gathering here again for a leadership and professional ethics class led by Professor Kim Taeyeon—we have a lot of down time today but believe me when I say that you should enjoy it as much as you can”. She looks in your direction, so you give her a nod; “dis-missed!”, she says with a voice crack, provoking a collective giggle from the crowd. “Good job, Nakyoung-ah”, you say to her. “Aaaaaah, why did my voice crack, oppaaaa”, she complains to you as she smacks you in the chest lightly. “It’s okay, happens to the best of us”, you chuckle as you pat her back. You then pull Xinyu in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you girls in 2 hours; I want to sleep a bit—wake me up if I oversleep, okay?”.
You text Dahyun as soon as you enter your room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
[👑]
To my room, please
Door isn’t locked
Make sure no one sees you
[🍒]
On my way xoxo
You lay in bed after seeing her response and immediately hear the door swing open and slam shut. “That was quick”, you say when you see Dahyun in your room. “My room is right across from yours, oppa”, she confesses. “Huh, no wonder you knew where my room is”, you say. “Mhmm. Now, what can I do for you?”, she asks. You get up from the bed and tell her your wish, “I want you to take everything off—now”. She starts by taking off her short black cardigan that’s held together with just one button, revealing the sports bra she has underneath it; “that’s cute”, you comment. She then unbuttons her jeans and take them off, thus leaving her only in her sports bra and panties.
“Come here, I’ll finish the job for you”, you say to her. Dahyun then gets closer to you, “yes, daddy”. You pull the sports bra over her head and toss it somewhere without looking before kneeling to take off her panties. “I like that you keep it clean and shaved. Keep doing it, okay?”, you praise her. “Yes, da—oh, God, yes”, her words are cut off when she feels your tongue on her pussy. You yank her legs apart even more so that you can have more space to move your head closer to her pussy. You lick and suck her clit, forcing Dahyun to cover her mouth to muffle her moans. “Oppa, please”, she begs with a low voice, “please, that’s so good”. You want to make her cum to repay her “kindness” on the ferry, so you stick two fingers into her pussy without letting up the stimulations on her clit.
“I’m-I’m so close—please, oppa, please”, Dahyun says between muffled moans. You finger-fuck her pussy faster and keep licking her clit like it was the most delicious ice cream ever. “O-oppa, hug me, please”, she begs. So, you stand up and hug her as she requests. She hugs you tightly and muffles her scream by biting your shoulder, and you hear splashes on the floor—"she’s squirting, that’s fun”, you think to yourself. Dahyun immediately becomes limp in your arms, so you hold her to make sure she doesn't fall.
“I-I—fuck—haven’t cum that hard in so long”, Dahyun says with heavy pants, “thank you so much, oppa. I-I love you”. You lift her and put her in bed before leaving to get a towel and some water. “Here, have a drink, sweetie”, you say as you guide the bottle to her mouth. You let her hold the bottle herself and walk to the small puddle to clean it. “I’ll get back to you in a minute, okay?”, you say as you walk to the bathroom after cleaning the little mess.
“I’m guessing it’s my turn to make you cum?”, she weakly says. You put on a gentle smile, one that you usually show to Xinyu. “No, sweetie, it’s not. I just wanted to repay your kindness”, you peck her in the forehead, “I love you, baby”. She wipes a stray tear on her cheek, “but I’m just your side girl. Are you sure you want to say that?”. You take her hands and pull her into a hug, “yes, I am”. “Finally accepting her as your side chick, huh? Splendid job, son”, the devil praises you. You shake your head lightly to rid his voice from your brain and focus on the girl in your arms. “I’m so sorry but you need to leave soon, darling. Make sure no one sees you, okay?”, you peck the top of her head apologetically.
You help her put on her clothes, starting from her panties. Before you give her the sports bra back, you quickly nibble her tits; “soft and perky, exactly my favorites”, you comment. Dahyun blushes as she tries to put on her sports bra; “tha-thank you, oppa. I know they’re not as big—“. You cut her off by giving her a peck on the lips, “what’s the point of comparing yourself with others, sweetie?”. Dahyun’s cheeks get even redder at your words, “oh, how sweet. Xinyu-unnie must be—oh, fuck”. You cut her off again with a squeeze in the neck, “say her name one more time, I fucking dare you”. You let go of her neck right away and clarifies to her, “I can be both sweet and mean at any given moment. It just depends on how you act around me. Are we clear?”. She nods in understanding, so you hand her jeans back and she puts them on right away. “I like how you dress, sweetie. Dress like this when we’re together, please”, you say as she puts on her cardigan. After making sure that she’s ready to go, you give her a quick kiss on the lips and let her go back to her room. “Make sure no one knows about this, okay?”, you say as Dahyun leaves the room and closes the door behind her.
You take a glance at your watch and see that you have around 90 minutes before you need to go to the hall again. You decide to take a nap as planned until you either wake up from the alarm or a flurry of missed calls from Xinyu. “What are we becoming, Seo Dahyun?”, you question yourself, “oh, God, Xinyu would be so hurt if she finds out about this; she was my first and now I’m two-timing her—fuck, I’m so damn stupid”.
-
You wake up before the alarm rings, 20 minutes to spare before the session starts. You decide to go to the hall right away after texting Xinyu to tell her that you’re heading there first. You see Professor Kim Taeyeon walking to the hall as well, looking mad attractive as ever. “Professor Kim”, you greet her simply. “Hi, sweetie”, she says with a warm smile―she has a habit of calling her favorite students with pet names, and you entered her list after making the dean’s list thrice in a row. “You look like you have a lot going on. You can tell me, sweetie; you know I don’t judge”, she says as the both of you enter the hall. You picture in your head how hurt Xinyu would be if she finds out that you’re cheating, and the sting of guilt makes you shed a tear. “I, uh, I fucked up, professor”, you confess with tears on your cheeks, “I betrayed Xinyu terribly”. “Let’s sit down before we continue, okay?”, she takes your hand and drags you to sit down.
She makes you sit in front of her, “go on, please”. You decide not to hide anything from her because you trust her that much. “There’s this girl that has been chasing me even though she knows I’m dating Xinyu, and instead of addressing it with Xinyu and pushing her away, my dumb ass gave her the opportunity so now she’s my side chick—excuse my language, professor”, you confess teary-eyed while looking down in shame. Professor Kim sighs, and you figure that she’s disappointed in you. “I hope those tears are coming from a place of guilt”, she says. You nod, “Xinyu would be so hurt if she finds out, and I wouldn’t be able to make it up to her no matter what”. “Humor me with a question, Jisung-ah: which one is more important: your beloved Zhou Xinyu, who has been with you through storms and tranquility, or this new side chick—what’s her name, by the way?”. “Seo Dahyun, professor”, you say. “Seo Dahyun? The freshman?”, she questions you. “You know her, madam?”, you look up to her.  She sighs again, “I’ve met her parents before, and I had been told that you invested in them”. You nod again, “my family’s treasurer did it for me, so I don’t know the details”.
She takes your hand in hers and rubs the back of it softly, “would you please answer my question?”. You take a deep breath to recall the question before giving her your answer, “Xinyu is far more important to me than her, professor; she’s been by my side through everything”. She nods in understanding, “we all make mistakes, son—sometimes more regrettable than we’d like to admit, but what matters is how you can learn from it and become a better person”. “Your advice, madam?”, you ask her. It’s now the professor’s turn to take a deep breath, “you said that Xinyu is more important, so let Dahyun-ie go, Jisung-ah. Xinyu deserves the best of you while Dahyun-ie deserves much better than to be someone’s side chick”.
“Oppa!”, Xinyu shouts excitedly when she enters the hall, “oh, I’m sorry—hello, professor”. “Hi, darling”, Professor Kim says with a smile, “welcome”. Xinyu approaches the two of you and then turns to Professor Kim, “why is oppa crying, professor?”. Professor Kim gestures to Xinyu to sit down. “He had a lot in his mind but couldn’t bring himself to talk to you, so he shared some of them with me instead”, she says, “tell me, darling: do you love your president-oppa here?”. Xinyu looks at you and Professor Kim in confusion, “I do, professor. I love him with my entire being”. Professor Kim looks at you with a motherly smile, “see, son? Xinyu loves you as much as you love her. What else is there to doubt?”. Professor Kim then stands up from her seat to prepare for the class, “I’ll give you some space to talk, okay?”.
Xinyu pulls you to your feet and hugs you tautly, “oppa, what is she talking about? Are you okay?”. “I’m okay, sweetie. I’m-I’m so sorry”, you say in a shaky voice, “my mind was full of bullshit, but I didn’t want to bother you with them”. Xinyu sheds a tear of her own after hearing your words, “but-but why not, oppa? Am I not your girlfriend? You can talk to me about your worries, you know”. You pull away from the hug and wipe her tears, “I just couldn’t muster up the courage to talk to you about it, baby. You already have a lot to worry about so I just wanted to be the shoulder you can lean on”. Xinyu puts her forehead on yours, “I’m always here for you, oppa, the same way you’re always here for me”. You nod and peck her forehead, “I love you, darling. I’m sorry for making you worried. Now let’s calm down, okay? People will be here soon”.
-
You are holding hands with Xinyu during the session, and time flies by like it was nothing. Professor Kim is now offering advice to people who want it, and people start raising their hands. She tells each of them what they need to hear no matter how cold it might sound. “We all make mistakes in our lives, and that’s okay”, she says, repeating her advice for you from earlier, “what’s important is how you deal with it, learn from it, and become a better person after, because falling in the same hole twice is simply foolish. I know I do not look and act like a wise person all the time, but this is what I’ve learned throughout my life—I’ve been in your shoes, but you haven’t been in mine”. You squeeze Xinyu’s hand after hearing the professor’s advice. “I promise I’ll keep improving and become a better person for us, love. You deserve the best of me the same way I deserve the best of you”, you whisper to her. “I love you, oppa”, she whispers back, as if it wasn’t clear as day already.
When you turn to Professor Kim again, you see that she’s smiling at you and Xinyu before turning back to the audience. “Does anyone have any more questions?”, she asks, but no one raises their hand. “One more thing before we wrap things up, ladies and gents: remember to always be honest with yourself and those you love. Tell them you love them and are grateful for them”, she adds, “we come and go like on the freeway, so hold them close while you can”. You look down to process the things she just said, trying not to cry in front of the whole council as you feel like a revelation has been brought to you, courtesy of the one and only Professor Kim Taeyeon. “You may go now”, the professor dismisses the crowd, “I’ll see you back at campus in a few days. Good evening”.
Everyone but Xinyu and Professor Kim has left the hall to do whatever, leaving the three of you in the room. “Take care of each other, will you? I want to see you two live a good life—together, hopefully”, she says. “Thank you, professor. Have a safe flight back”, Xinyu says with a respectful bow. The professor gives her a smile and starts walking away, giving space for you two to have a little catch-up.
You jump up from your seat and pull Xinyu into a passionate kiss. “Thank you for being in my life, baby”, you say after breaking the kiss, “I will do my best to be the best boyfriend for you”. “Oppa, I’m thankful for you as well, you know”, she says in such a calm manner that you rarely hear (because she’s energetic and loud most of the time) combined with a smile that’s as warm as the morning sun, “I’d like to make a promise as well, love: I promise to always be by your side through thick and thin and be the beautiful and graceful girlfriend that you deserve—do you know why, baby?”. You shake your head to encourage her to continue and see where this is going, “because I love you so much, honey, and I sincerely ask you to never leave me because I can’t picture myself alone without you—I’ve never been selfish before, so please allow me to be selfish just this one time”. Xinyu very rarely uses pet names with you, only referring to you as “oppa” (or “daddy” when you two are in bed), so the words she’s saying are hitting you harder than ever, working wonders to convince you to cut ties with Dahyun. The professor was right: these two girls deserve the best life has to offer, and you can’t cater to both at the same time without hurting one of them.
-
You take her hand with a smile and drag her to leave the hall. “Baby, can you come to my room, please?”, you ask her. “For what reason, Mr. President?”, she says, smirking. You turn the gears in your head to come up with an answer. “You want me to stay by your side, yeah? I’ll do you one better”, you lean in so you can whisper in her ear, “how about I stay inside you instead, baby, hm?”. Xinyu turns away to hide her tomato cheeks. “Oh, my fucking—oppaaaa, what are you saying right noooow? Fuck me, are you even listening to yourself, oppa?”, she says, flustered. You double down and tease Xinyu more. “Fuck you? Yeah, that’s the plan; I’ll be cumming inside you as well”, you say with a naughty smirk. “Aaaaah, why are you like this, oppaaaa”, Xinyu whines, her blush is obvious for anyone to see. You chuckle in amusement, “alright, baby, that’s enough playing around. Now, would you kindly follow me to my room?”.
You decide to call Nakyoung to ask about today’s schedule before jumping into the action. “Nakyoung-ah”, you say as soon as she picks up, “where are you?”. “I’m in my room. I saw that you guys were busy, so I left first”, she says. “Yeah, it’s fine. We had some personal things we needed to address with each other”, you explain, “we don’t have anything important after this, do we? Just the dinner?”. “What do you mean ‘just the dinner?’ We’ll be asking them to make an essay on council project ideas before dinner, remember?”, she says. “Oh, right”, you say, “anyway, we’re skipping dinner, so if anyone asks, tell them we need some time alone and that we’re sorry. We’ll go over their essays with the ministers tomorrow morning”. “Yeah, I can do that”, Nakyoung agrees to your request, “are you guys okay, though? I saw both of you bawl your eyes out earlier. You’re not breaking up, are you?”. Xinyu takes the phone from your hand, “no, we’re not breaking up. In fact, we’ll be solidifying our relationship tonight”. You hear Nakyoung laugh over the phone, “sure, girl, whatever you say—just keep it down when you do it, ‘kay? Have fun!”.
-
Fun is exactly what you’re aiming for tonight, and while Xinyu knows that as well, you don’t want to jump to it right away. “Baby girl”, you softly call out to her, “I’m not horny for the sake of it, but I do want to show you how much I love you and my options are limited right now”. Xinyu rubs your cheek with her thumb gently, “Oh, is that so? Show me then, oppa, and I’ll show you my love as well”.
Usually, you start by taking off Xinyu’s clothes but this time, you decide to switch it up and take off yours first. “Is it just me or are those biceps bigger?”, Xinyu comments. You flex in front of her, “I don’t know, I haven’t noticed anything yet”. Xinyu’s eyes move down to your cock, “that looks bigger too”. You chuckle, “there’s no need to inflate my ego, love”. “Inflate your—no, I’m dead serious!”, she says as she moves to hold your cock, “you will stretch me for sure”.
Snicker as you pull Xinyu up to her feet to kiss her. “I love you, baby, and I don’t care if I sound like a broken record because I mean it every time”. Xinyu furrows her eyebrows as she tries to remember something. “Wait, that’s my line from when I was bitching about my period, no?”, she crosses her arms and pouts, “apologize for stealing my line or I’m not letting you in my pants—don’t forget the pet name”. “I’m sorry for stealing your line, baby—also, you weren’t bitching; you were in real pain”, you say, adhering to her demand, “can I get in your pants now?”. Xinyu shoves you softly, “sit on the bed and watch me strip”.
Xinyu takes a few steps back and takes off her T-shirt, revealing her tits that’s covered with a simple white bra. You start stroking your cock at the sight, and Xinyu throws her T-shirt at you, “impatient, hm? I like it; makes me feel wanted and beautiful, you know?”. You groan after a particular stroke, “I always want you, beautiful—respectfully”. Xinyu shakes her head as she unbuttons her jeans and pull them down, “you and your words, oppa”.
The sight of Xinyu in her underwear (or naked—just so we’re clear) never gets old for you; “it has to be illegal to be this hot”, you utter while mindlessly stroking your cock. “I can’t get these off, oppa. Wanna help?”, she teases. You’ve never acted so quickly at anyone’s words before, as you jump off the bed and approach her; “woah, relax, oppa”, Xinyu comments. “I don’t know what that word means”, you say, possessed by lust. You make quick work of her bra and panties and throw them to God-knows-where. You then pull her in for a kiss, your tongue wrestling hers like it was AEW.
Xinyu breaks the kiss after a minute so that she can breathe. “Fuck, baby, I want you so bad right now”, you say with a deep, lustful voice. “Just—fuck—just take me already, oppa. I can’t fucking wait anymore”, she says, her breath heavy from the lust. You carry Xinyu to the bed and make her take the bottom position. “Oppa, please, let’s start already—OH”, Xinyu covers her mouth tightly as you immediately ram your cock into her pussy and start fucking her deep. “You’re stretching me, you’re stretching me”, she chants softly in your ear after biting you on the shoulder. You’re tempted to leave a hickey (or a dozen), but you don’t want people to know that you’re having sex, so you leave her neck and chest alone.
Xinyu almost lets out a loud moan, but you squeeze her neck just in time before she does. “I’m sorry, love, but we can’t afford to get caught”, you say to her. “You-you—just cover my mouth, don’t cho-choke me”, she says with troubled breath. You let her neck go and retreat from her exceptionally wet pussy. “On your stomach, please”, you say, “moan into the pillow”. Xinyu nods and rolls over onto her stomach, and you lift her ass up to get a better angle to bang her. After making sure that her face is pressed into the pillow, you start fucking her again, harder this time. You can’t hear what Xinyu’s saying right now, but that’s the whole point of using the pillow.
As you keep fucking her from behind, her asshole keeps peeking from behind her cheeks, and your cock, which has taken over your brain as an organ of thoughts, urges you to do something about it. You take your index finger and touch Xinyu’s rear entrance, and she turns to look at you instantly. “Don’t hurt me, please. I’ve never put anything in there, oppa”, she says. You nod, “do you consent?”. Xinyu gives you a little nod, so you start pushing your finger into her forbidden hole and it forces Xinyu to bite the pillow. “Ngh, you-you’re stretching me, oppa”, she says, and you’re not sure if her expression is that of someone in pain. “Are you okay, baby? Do you want me to pull it out?”, you ask her softly despite your pants. “I-I think I’m fine—try putting in another finger gently”, she says.
You stop your thrusts to focus on the task at hand and put your middle finger in her ass as gently as possible. You hear Xinyu make some sound, but you maintain your concentration and patience to work on her asshole, until her ass finally gives way for your fingers. “S-so full”, she says, “is this what—hngh, God—anal feels like?”. You shake your head in cluelessness, “can I go again, baby?”. “Only if you promise to not your move fingers as you fuck me”, she says. “Of course, love”, you say
You notice as you’re fucking her again that her pussy keeps squeezing your cock randomly and you suspect that she’s close. “Fuck, you’re so tight, princess”, you praise her as you up the pace. “I’m close, oppa; make me cum, please”, she says, confirming your suspicion. Pull out your fingers so that you only need to concentrate on one thing, which is fucking her in the pussy with your cock; “the ass play can wait”, you think to yourself.
“Oppa, I’m cumming; pull out for a second, please”, she utters, so you do as she asks and pull out. You see Xinyu scream into the pillow as you feel her juice hit you in the pelvis area. You wait until she’s done squirting before fucking her again. “I know you’re still sensitive, but I can’t wait. I’m sorry”, you say to her. Xinyu’s moans are getting worryingly loud, so you put a hand on the back of her head to make sure the pillow stifles the sound.
You feel your cock leak in her pussy, and you’re reminded that you haven’t asked if it’s okay to cum inside. “Darling, is it safe today?”, you ask her. “I’ve been taking pills since after my last period, oppa”, she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier”, you apologize to her, “I’m cumming inside you, okay, love?”. A few pumps later, you sense that you’re about to bust, so you lodge your cock as deep as you can in her pussy and open the valves. “Stay inside, oppa”, Xinyu says weakly, “God, so warm every time”.
You’ve spent your entire vigor fucking Xinyu, so now you feel weak. “Xinyu-yah, can I pull out now?”, you ask her. “You can, but before you do”, she says, “I want you to take a video of my pussy as your cum drips out of me, oppa”. You’re bewildered by her request, “can I ask why?”. “You’ve said multiple times how hot it looks but I don’t know what it looks like, and now I’m curious”, she answers. You look around the room, “I mean, sure, but where is my phone?”.
Thankfully (and conveniently enough), your phone is on the bedside table under the lamp, within arm’s reach. You open the camera app and switch to video mode, “I’m pulling out, baby”. You aim the camera at your cock as you’re pulling out, and it only occurs to you now how big of a cock it looks, especially on camera; no wonder Xinyu was intimidated and hesitant at first. After your whole shaft is out, you move your aim to record her pussy and wait until your cum starts spilling out of her. “Oh, that’s so thick actually”, you comment as you see your cum escape her pussy. “Yeah, your cum is always thick”, Xinyu replies, “now mute the audio and send it to me”. You fiddle with your phone for a moment and notify her that it’s been done, and Xinyu drops her waist onto the bed to rest.
“You and I are not finished yet, miss vice president”, you say as you lift and carry her on your shoulder. “You want to go again, oppa? You want to make me scream my lungs out this time?”, she says—Xinyu has this pure, innocent girl façade but she’s quite naughty actually. You chuckle, “I’m spent, love. What I meant is I want to help you clean up—stop being so perverted all the time, hon, damn”. “Aaah, oppa, why are you teasing me like that? It’s not my fault you’re so good at sex”, she complains while smacking your back playfully.
You make her sit on the toilet and kneel in front of her. “I’m good at sex because of you, love. You’re my first so I hadn’t the slightest clue about sex back then, but you patiently helped and guided me and here we are”, you tell her. You always mean what you say—well, 90% of the time—so Xinyu knows without a shadow of a doubt that your words are sincere. “You just fucked my brains out and now you’re talking like this, oppa?”, Xinyu says. She then takes a breath and starts her rant: “this is why I want to stay by your side, oppa. Imagine what it would be like for me if you left and then I got with someone else and because I’ve been so conditioned to hearing your sincerity and honesty, I couldn’t tell if my boyfriend was lying, and then—". You cut off her train of words with a kiss. “I understand, love. I want to stay with you as much as you want to stay with me—cross my heart”, you say to her with a smile. “There you go, son”, the angel makes a return and commends you, “you’ve finally remembered how important she is to you”.
You stand up and pull her into the shower, and then Xinyu pulls you into another kiss. “Your cock is poking me”, she giggles, “are you actually still horny? Want me to suck you?”. ‘Tis your turn to chuckle, “how can I not have a boner when you’re naked in front of me?”. She turns away from you and puts her hands on the wall, “One day, I’ll be naked for you 24/7 and just let you do whatever to me: play with my tits, cum on my face, shove your cock down my throat, et cetera”. You feel a rush of excitement in your head instantly, “um, can we do that next weekend?”. She lets out a laugh, “you can’t have enough of me ever, can you?”.
“No”, you say firmly, “I can’t. You’re just too hot”.
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lovelywritinglady · 2 months
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Crocodile Tears pt.2
Sir Crocodile x fem!reader, Doflamingo x fem!reader(siblings)
In which your life has gotten a little more complicated as your freakishly tall older brother comes back into your life.
Angst, reader is traumatized, fluff, curse words, violence. Slighy spoilers for Marine ford. Maybe out of character Crocodile and Doflamingo. May be some canon as well as non canon things.
The ocean shone brilliantly as the salty sea air whipped your h/c hair back softly. You stood on the front of the boat holding the railing that surrounded it, feeling the cool metal against your palms. You took a deep breath letting the salty air fill your lungs as your eyes still felt raw from all of the crying you had done the night prior. Your heart was still aching from recent events. You had once been the wife of a very powerful man and now you were just you and you knew that at some point, you needed to come to terms with that.
The reason you chose Dressrosa was because despite the history there, you needed to be in the comfort of your family. You desired to see your older brother even though he was a horrible person and a hardened criminal. You were an adopted by his parents as they desired to have a ‘normal’ child. You chuckled at that thought squeezing the cool railing a little bit harder as you felt fresh tears pricking your eyes once again. You started to hate yourself for wanting to see him, as he was the reason your parents weren’t here anymore. But you knew that he would welcome you with open arms, he did promise that after all. You just wish that you knew where your other brother was as he was more of the ideal person to be with. He was kind, smart, and someone you knew you could rely on. But your older brother would have to do for now, he was still family.
“We will be arriving at our destination in 1 hour.” someone on the loud speaker announced
“Well damn, that voyage was a lot quicker than I thought it be. Guess I should call Doffy.”You spoke to yourself as you admired the sea.
You reluctantly let go of the railings and began waking back to your room that was located in the middle of the ship. Once there, you sat on your bed that was hard and uncomfortable. You then took one look at your transponder snail giving it a small smile before grabbing it gently Reluctantly, you dialed your brothers number waiting for him to pick up as the sound of the transponder snail filled your tiny room. And soon enough, the transponder snail stopped with a click sound.
“Who’s this?” A gruff voice spoke
“It’s me, Doffy. It’s y/n.” You responded cringing at yourself for being so timid.
“Well, well. Hello there I was wondering when I’d get a call from you. ” He laughed out. “I told you that Crocodile was not good for you did I not.” Doflamingo spoke once more bit in a more serious tone fully knowing why you’d call him.
“I know.” You whispered feeling embarrassed
“I’m glad you know, sweet sister. Now tell me where you are so I can come and get you.” He said in a more gentle voice thing to coax you to him.
“Funny enough, in a boat right now on my way to Dressrosa. I’m about an hour away.” You replied with a nervous expression.
“Fufufu, good I’ll see you soon then. Are you just visiting or do you want to stay?” He asked slyly
“I’m not sure yet Doffy. All I know is that I need my family.” You admitted feeling too emotionally tired to hide your true feelings.
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” Doflamingo stated as that sentence reminded you of the big fight the two of you had when you first started dating crocodile. You then sighed trying to push down the thoughts of your husband down. “See you soon, y/n.” Your brother added before hanging up.
“Shit. What the hell did I just get myself into.” You admitted to yourself before you began packing your things getting ready to see your big brother again.
One hour later
You had finally arrived to Dressrosa. Taking your first steps off of the boat felt like you were waking home. The familiar warmth and sight of toys filled you with joy. However, the sheer number of them shocked you as you defiantly don’t remember there being this many. Shaking your head, you decided to put it in the back of your mind as you were dedicated to one thing and one thing only; your brother.
You began looking around for him thinking that he might be here to get you. However, knowing Doffy, he was not the kind of man to do that. You shook your head that this realizing that it had been some time since you had officially seen him and you seemed to have forgotten some of his manurisums.
“Well shit, I guess I’ve gotta walk there.” You spoke to yourself.
And so you went in the direction of the castle that sat upon the plateau called the “Sunflower hill.” As you began your journey, suitcase in hand, you had walked out five minutes before you were surrounded by three men that seemed to be dressed as guards.
“Miss Donquixote, we are here to escort you to the palace by order of the king!” The guard in the middle declared handing me an official document with my brothers signature proving the legitimacy to this man’s words.
“I see. Thank you! Mind carrying my bags then?” I responded handing one of the other guards my suitcase before they could answer. I then walked past them desperate to get to my final destination.
“C-certainly!” The guard squeaked surprised at my boldness.
“Wait, miss Donquixote! We are suppose to escort you!” The last guard yelled
“Well escort me then I’m not interested in waiting any longer than I already have.” You snapped back not having any patience to deal with your brothers goonies at that moment. You then continued your fast pace not caring if they were actually escorting you or not.
“Yes ma’am!” All three of them responded as you heard them quicken their footsteps behind you. And soon enough they were in front of you “escorting” you to the palace.
After about an hour of walking, you had finally made it to your brothers palace. You smiled to yourself feeling surprisingly happy that you were going to see him after so many years. The palace hadn’t changed much since the last time you were here. With the exception of a few more shitty portraits of your brother.
“Miss Donquixote, please follow us to the throne room.” The guard holding your bag told you.
“Thank you!” You responded feeling slightly relieved that you were finally here.
The guard then lead you through a long hallway with red velvet carpet adorned with gold accents. The doors ahead that opened to the throne room was solid gold and stood wall length. The other two guards then stood on both sides of the doors. As the two massive opened you were greeted with the strange and malicious smile of your older brother; Donquixote Doflamingo.
“Too you long enough my sweet sister.” Doflamingo smiled crossing his legs as he sat upon his massive golden throne wearing his signature pink feathered coat.
“My bad, your guards got in my way.” You joked walking up to him with a small smile on your face.
“Fufufu I’ll deal with them later.” He spoke looking down at you with his smile never fading from his face.
“It’s good to see you brother.” You admitted not interested in starting any small talk with him knowing full well it would go absolutely no where.
“You as well dear one. It’s been so long. Why don’t we catch up in private?” He asked although knowing him, it definitely wasn’t a question. “Why don’t we talk in my office?” He added as he got up from his massive throne and began walking.
“Sure thing.” You responded as you followed.
Soon the two of you arrived to his office. Once there, the two of you sat across from each other in big office chairs. His looked perfect for him while your looked like it was about to swallow you whole. His office was huge and like the rest of the decor of the castle, it was adored with good trimmings and beautiful paintings. One of the paintings in particular caught your eye. It was a painting of you and both of your brothers. With them standing side by side with you in the middle. The sight of that painting made your heart ache. You hadn’t seem your other brother in an ever longer time than you had seen Doflamingo.
“He’s still missing y/n.” Doflamingo chimed in once he took notice you weren’t paying any attention to him.
“I know, it’s been far too long. I barely remember him.” You spoke seldomly
“What do you remember?” He asked as he leaned in closer to you.
“That he was kind, quiet, and extremely clumsy.” You replied reminiscing in your head about the time he somehow slipped sitting down. You chuckled at that thought which, not to your awareness, made Doflamingo jealous.
“Yes he was, but onto business.” He said doing his best to hide his annoyed tone and trying to give you a sweet and loving smile instead.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. What would you like to know?” You asked him leaning back into your massive chair.
“Everything, start from the beginning. I need to know how much that mother fucker hurt you and if I need to kill him or not.” He sneered smiling in anticipation.
“I’ll tell you everything as long as you agree not to kill him.” You responded quickly trying not to get your ex husband kill despite your hatred for him. You were so glad in that moment that you took on more of the personality of your other brother.
“Deal, just tell me everything.” He replied in an annoyed tone.
“Fine, so it all started about a little over a week ago…” You started.
Meanwhile…
The news of Arabasta’s war conflict coming to an end and Crocodiles reign over was sweeping the nation and the world by storm. The news that “white chase” Smoker of the marines had defeated the infamous pirate became one of speculation and pride to the Marines. The king was respected once more and the lost princess Vivi went back to her kingdom once more. It was a joyous occasion as the chains that held Arabasta captive were finally broken. However, there was one in particular that was not gladdened with the news; Sir Crocodile.
There he sat in a large Marine ship with sea prism stone cuffs on both his hands and feet. Blood still on his face from his recent battle with the rookie “Straw Hat” Luffy. Crocodile was defeated through and through. Both mind and body spent as not only did his plans fail, but the one thing he held dear to him was now gone too, due to his own personal failure. The area of the ship he was in was dark and smelled of rats and moldy sea water.
“Damn marines, don’t even know how to clean properly.” He spoke to himself with a raspy voice.
His head leaned forward as he tried to make himself comfortable in these shitty conditions. However, he had no luck as he was so use to his luxurious ways. His constant cigar was gone so he couldn’t even find a slight comfort in that. Crocodile then sighed feeling tired from the sea prism stone cuffs that he was bound in. As his power felt like it was gone completely. He hated this feeling, he hated being weak, but most importantly he hates knowing that he lost. He hates himself for the words that he spoke to you when he should’ve been kind to you. You were(are) his wife and he loves you more than anything.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He spoke softly to himself as though he was speaking to you.
Where were you now? Were you safe? Did you still love him? These questions kept repeating in his tired mind as he sat and sat for what felt like an eternity. He knew where he was going, but in that moment all his mind wanted to think of was you. Your smile, your eyes, your body, your kindness, your love. You were the only comfort he had in that moment and he knew that you’d be the only comfort he would have in Impel Down.
“What the hell is she going to think?” He questioned remembering that he had never told you the full extent of his plan and the full truth as to why you were in Arabasta in the first place. All he told you was that it was the best place for the two of you to make money and you accepted. “Shit!” He yelled out slamming his hand and hook down on the floor.
“Hey! Keep it down in there!” One of the marine guards called out to him. To which Crocodile glared at him making the marine guard shiver. “S-sorry!” He stuttered out.
“Whatever.” Crocodile spoke leaning back against the wall and sighing.
He knew he fucked up badly. He knew the chance of you taking him back as your husband was slim, but he didn’t care. He loved you in his twisted but genuine way. You were his and he was yours and he needed you back in his arms. You were his salvation is this fucked up world. Crocodile then in that moment, no matter what, decided he would find a way to be by your side once more and he simply didn’t care how.
“Prepare the prisoner for transfer to Impel down!” Another guard shouted to Crocodiles.
“Yes sir!” The marine saluted. “You heard him p-prisoner. Stand up!” The guard stuttered.
“Sure.” Crocodile smiled sending another wave of nerves down the guard’s spine.
Now that crocodile was standing he fully now realized just how tired he was. However, that didn’t matter now. Now, he would have to endure literal hell for god knows how long. But, he knew no matter how long no matter how much they would put him through in that place, it would be more than worth it just to see you once again.
“Y/n, I’ll find you my darling.” He whispered is mind returning to nothing but sweet thought of you and he began walking straight into hell.
Back To You…
“And that’s what happened and why I’m here now.” You spoke finishing your story.
“I know you told me I shouldn’t kill him, but the events that you just told me make me think he deserves it.” Doflamingo spoke through gritted teeth as his fists were tightly squeezed together.
“His death really wouldn’t make me feel any better you know.” You bit back annoyed that he even thought to bring this up again.
“It would make me feel better.” He muttered as you rolled your eyes at his comment.
“I know it would.” You sighed. “I just don’t wish to see him. I can’t, especially after leaving the way I did.” You admitted as you started to feel slightly sad once more.
“Good, you won’t and I’ll make damn sure of it. You left because you knew you needed better and so you came to me. I’ll make sure you find someone worthy of a woman of your caliber, that’s a promise.” Doflamingo declared feeling righteous.
“I’m not looking to move on yet Doffy…” you said looking down at you hands as your eyes began to blur. “I just can’t.” You added as your heart ached with the memory of your husband.
“Fine, but you will one day, promise me.” Doflamingo spoke seriously
“I promise.” You replied. Although not fully meaning it as your heart still belonged to your husband despite how shitty he was.
“Good girl. Now you should go see the rest of the family I know they’re excited-”Doflamingo began
“Young master! Young master!” A guard burst in holding a newspaper exclaimed.
“Dammit what?!” Your brother barked back with visible anger.
“S-sorry, young master, b-but you need to r-read the news!” He stuttered handing Doflamingo the newspaper.
Your brother scanned it, reading it carefully not fully believing the article. You noticed a mix of confusion and excitement on his face as his familiar smile grew in size. It seemed like forever until he finally finished reading. Once he did, he gave you a smug grin as he handed you the paper that caused his amusement. He knew full well that this would fully shock you. So much so that you would most likely stay with him forever.
You took the paper from him and began reading. However, by the headline, you were already confused and horrified. A gasp left your lips as you continued reading. The true horrors that your husband committed came to light. Mixed emotions were flooding you as you finished reading and shakily placed the news paper down. Angry tears flowed down your cheeks as you looked at your brother who gave you a sympathetic smile, one he knew would make you believe that he had no clue about Crocodiles plan.
“I can’t believe he would be this horrible.” Yoi cried out as you cradled your face and began to sob.
“He is a pirate y/n.” Doflamingo said coming closer to you.
“I know he is, but taking over a country and planning to destroy it. That’s so fucked!” You exclaimed as you felt large arms around your body.
“I know it is. Shhh. Everything will be okay.” Doffy reassured pulling you closer to him with a satisfied grin. “I did tell you he was trouble.” He added.
“I-I know. I just thought he told me everything. He promised that he had.” You spoke through choked tears.
Your brother didn’t respond as he simply didn’t know what to say. On one had he was satisfied that you were with him once again. And that he finally had all of his family in once place. As well as the face that he was almost certain you’d let him kill Crocodile now. However, he also felt a unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in his chest. He did love you and seeing you so upset made him feel slightly sympathetic and worry for you. He hated this feeling but chose to ignore his confused emotions as this is what you needed.
“What am I gonna do Doffy?” You whispered as your voice was beginning to hurt from all of the crying you had done.
“You’re going to say here with me, sweet y/n.” Doffy responded pulling away to look at you.
“How long?” You questioned.
“As long as you’d like to but if it were up to me you’d stay forever. We’re family and it’s high time we reminder that.” He told you grabbing your now puffy face and wiping your tears.
“You’re right! You’ve been right about everything!” You cried out “I’m sorry Doffy.” You whispered hugging him once again.
“That’s all in the past now.” He comforted “Why don’t we go see the rest of our family soon?” Doffy suggested
“I’d like that, thank you brother.” You spoke excitedly
“Good.” Doflamingo smiled smugly
Two Months Later…
Your life at this point was much improved. You were now apart of the family and even had some authority. It was great and you even opened a little flower shop near the castle that you ran, which Doflamingo agreed. You had also gone to therapy and opened up a lot about your marriage and about your own personal problems. You were much happier knowing that your husband was serving time for his heinous crimes.
However, during these past two months you realized that Crocodile’s absence would always leave a hole in your heart. Despite how awful he was to you, you did love him. You thought a lot about him and even began to miss him and the times that he was sweet and loving to you. Truthfully he was that way for the majority of your marriage.
Every day was hard, but Doffy and the family had made your days easier. You and baby 5 had gotten along well and you even helped her with her attachment issues and have tried to convince her to go to therapy. The rest of the family was hard to really get close with again, but you had tried your best. After all, they were people that you had been close with once upon a time.
Today, was quite hot in the beautiful kingdom of Dressrosa. You were tending to your flower shop, making sure that all of the displays were absolutely perfect. While you were focused on the task at hand, the bell to your shop went off alerting you of a customer. As you turned around you were greeted with the familiar face of Doflamingo.
“Hello there, what might you need today brother?” You smiled to him
“I assure you I’m not here for your beautiful flowers sweet sister, but I am here to let you know that’ll I’ll be gone for at least a week.” Doffy informed you as he crouched in your shop due to his enormous size.
“Where to?” You questioned
“There’s gonna be an execution. One for the pirate Portgus D. Ace, commander of the White Beard Pirates.” He said proudly.
“But that’s result in an all out war!” You told him perplexed by this information.
“Exactly. I’m ordered to go but really I wanna see how this will turn out! It’ll be a spectacle!” Doflamingo laughed making you cringe slightly
“I guess I’ll see you in a week then.” You responded trying to change the subject as you turned back to your flowers.
“Yes, you could come with me you know.” He suggested
“I’ve got work to do here. And besides who’s going to keep your family in shape while you’re gone.” You joked hanging your brother a blood red rose. He took it with a smile before placing it in his pocket.
“I suppose you could watch the broadcast.” He suggested
“Not really sure I wanna see all of that” you admitted feeling slightly sick at the thought of watching that boy die.
“Fair enough, but I do hope you will change your mind.” Doflamingo laughed slightly. “Take care of our family y/n. I’ll be back soon.” He spoke one last time before he left leaving you to your work.
“See you soon, brother.” You whispered as a strange feeling erupted in your chest. “This won’t end well.” You spoke to yourself as you continued w continued with your work.
A Few Days Later…
Doflamingo had arrived in MarineFord Mmmm a few days ago and already the war had begun. The theatrics were already amusing him as he watched the carnage. Pirate versus marine, the strongest versus the strongest. This war was right up his alley. Doflamingo only wished that you could be here to witness this, but hoped that you’d watching the transponder snail feed.
“Ah yes! Who is just the marines or the pairates! It doesn’t really matter this war will change the tides forever! Fufufufufu!” Doflamingo exclaimed happily.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Sudden voices yelled out from up above interrupting Doflamingo celebration.
“What the” Doflamingo spoke out looking up with a frown and then surprise at a massive marine ship somehow falling from the sky.
“Dammit, Ivankov!” A familiar gruff voice yell out in annoyance.
“Iva!” A child-like voice called out.
“We’re all gonna die!” Two male voices caked out in terror.
And just as fast as he heard those voices, they were sent plummeting down into the hole in the ice below that was made not too long ago. This spectacle was enough to catch the attention of everyone on the battlefield. Faces agape at the sight making the fighting stop.
“Dammit straw hat!” The same familiar gruff voice called only this time the person was much clearer.
“Well I’ll be dammed!” Doflamingo called out to none other than Sir Crocodile.
“Shit.” Crocodile whispered to himself
Doflamingo quickly made his way to Crocodile, killing random people on the way there. As he was approaching, he took notice of Crocodile’s sad attempt at attacking Whitebeard only to be stopped by both straw hat and one of Whitebeards commanders. Crocodile was sent flying backwards as blood dripped down his nose.
“Well hey there gatorboy!” Doflamingo greeted looking down at Crocodile.
“Doflamingo stay out of my business or else!” Crocodile but back wiping the blood from his nose.
“Your business! Your business! Your businesses is now thriving with me after you left her broken!” Doflamingo laughed
“What the hell are you yapping about!”Crocodile responded
“Your dear wife came crying to me after she left you!” Doflamingo
“She in Dressrosa?” Crocodile questioned already starting to make a plan to go to you.
“Yes! Where she belongs.” Doflamingo spoke
“She’s my wife!” Crocodile barked
“And she’s my sister and I can assure you, you’ll never see her again!” Doflamingo laughed.
“Dammit Doflamingo! She’s mine!” Crocodile replied grabbing him by the shirt
“You know she might be watching gator boy! Wouldn’t want to let her see you assault her brother, would you now? Fufufu!” Doflamingo teased
Crocodile then promptly let him go feeling nervous that you might be watching. Anxiety then crept and he decided then that he’d better act right hoping that maybe you’d see that he was a better man than the last time you had seen him.
“Damn, didn’t realize my sweet sister had such a tight leash on you gator boy.” Doflamingo joked
“Maybe I just want to my wife to see the giants she deseves.” Crocodile whispered sadly
“Let’s just hope she’s looking then.” Doflamingo responded seriously confused at Crocodiles change in demeanor.
Meanwhile, back to you a few moments earlier…
You had completed your work for the day. As you closed your flower shop and made your way back to the castle you thought of your brother mentioning the broadcast at marineford and how anyone could view it if they had a video transponder snail, to which the castle did.
“Fuck it.” You whispered realizing that you were very much in fact interested in what would happen.
And thus, as you walked into the castle you set your sights on the room you knew had what you needed. As you made your way there you wondered what was going on now and what did you miss. You felt as though something happened that you had to see. Something that could change everything for you and you had no idea why yet. So, as you arrived at the room you immediately started to turn on the video transponder snail in hopes that the broadcast would work. After a little trial and error you got the massive snail working and connected to the one at Marine ford. The feed started playing and immediately you saw the massive battle that had happened and was now continuing. Pirate versus marine, the best verses the best. This was, in your mind, the war that would determine the change the world forever.
“The fucking brutality.” You spoke out eyes glued to the screen.
You noticed your brother in the corner of the screen laughing and saying some big speech that you agreed with and then;seemingly out of nowhere, a missive ship crash landed in a almost too perfect opening in the ice below. You gasped at the sight not realizing what had just happened. It was bizarre to be sure but was most bizarre was the reaction your brother had to it. He was quick to leave his post and go to the action.
“What the hell is he doing?” You wondered knowing something like this was not likely to make your brother leave the comfort of his stand. He is a king after all.
You watched your brother closely as he landed right before a giant man seemingly made of diamonds and someone who had just gotten punched by him. The video was hard to see due to all of the fight king and debris in the air. But with further focus you finally realized the reason for Doflmingos haste and why he would even be remotely interested in leaving from his viewing spot. It was a person; a person still so dear to you and who you still loved deeply much to your own disappointment. As it was none other than your husband.
“Crocodile?” You whispered to yourself feeling like the world itself had stopped.
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Thank you so much for reading!💜 Gonna make 1-2 more part(s) for this story! Stay Tuned! Please let me know what you thought of this part!!
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•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•
-L.W.L
Part 1 Part 2
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pasukiyo · 1 year
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Hey, ignore if u arent still doing requests but I've had this storyline in my head for ages and I think ur a perfect writer for tom. Basically, the reader is a muggleborn but she attends Hogwarts and it's like half term where they are all home for a break. Shes either avery or lestranges adopted sibling and it's kinda been kept a secret from tom because.. well yknow shes a muggleborn lol(he knows about her now because her adoptive brother had to explain before bringing Tom over) anyways so hes at every or lestranges house for some reason (you make it up) and shes in her room, her adoptive brother needs something so he asks tom to get it from her desk in her room and they preferably have 🌶 time. Sorry if it sounds stupid but I've been thinking about this for ages!!😭
𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | tom riddle
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tom riddle x f!reader 8,104 words warnings: smut. sort of angst. also lots of prejudice against muggle-borns. read part two here. notes: reader is hufflepuff and muggle-born in this one. summary: every year, the lestranges will hold a christmas party for only the oldest of pure-blood wizarding families. every year you are locked in your room while the party rages downstairs, but everything will change when tom riddle is invited to this year’s party. everything…
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 The Lestrange name definitely held some irony, considering how strange the family truly was. The Mother sent an owl at lunch, the rolled parchment dropping onto the plate in front of Tiernan Lestrange. On either side of him sat Clarence Avery and Liam Mulciber, who gazed down at the rolled parchment sealed with the Lestrange family crest with sparkling irises. 
 “Is it for the party, Lestrange?” Avery asked as Lestrange took another bite of his sandwich, dusting his hands off before finally taking a hold of the parchment, untying the ribbon keeping it closed. “More than likely,” he replied as the parchment unraveled, his mother’s handwriting gazing back up at him in inky black cursive letters. 
 ‘To my dearest son,
 Tell your friends they’re more than welcome to join us on Christmas Eve for the party. Invite that Head Boy you were writing to me about too. I am most interested to meet him, since you speak so highly of him. Remind the Girl that she is to not speak of the party, I simply cannot have any more of her kind in the house. I will see you at King’s Cross Station, my darling. 
 With all my love, your mother.’
 Of course, the Girl referred to the Hufflepuff sitting all the way across the Great Hall at her own House’s table, her head down as she ate, so as to not catch the attention of her brother or any of his friends. She didn’t choose this family— and if it were her choice, she’d be far away from them— and neither did they. 
 It was the fault of whomever it was who dropped her onto the Lestranges’ doorstep in the wee hours of the morning when she was only an infant. The Mother had given birth to her son only a few months before, and found the crying baby on her doorstep to be quite a burden. 
 She asked herself why the Mother and the Father even bothered keeping her, for even before they learned of her blood status, they hated her. Perhaps it was to uphold their reputation— taking in a child who wasn’t theirs? It was the perfect foundation for the story of a kind-hearted pure-blood family— how could the Lestranges let that opportunity go?
 Of course, behind closed doors, she was treated less than a family member, some would argue far less than a house elf. She may as well have been a house elf if you ask her. She was treated like how they believed anyone of her kind should be treated— a mudblood deserved to be treated like the rubbish they are, they’d say. 
 Up until she got her Hogwarts letter, she believed them. She believed she deserved to be treated this way, that she deserved to be put through the torture that came with living with the Lestranges. She believed she had filthy blood, demon blood. 
 But all of that changed the second she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Of course, the Lestranges were at first very against letting her attend Hogwarts— mudbloods shouldn’t be taught magic, they’d say— but even they could only take so many letters flying through the fireplace or popping up in the stew before they gave in. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone of her blood status— “you are not to tell anyone of your filthy blood status,” the Father had told her with an accusatory finger in her face. “As far as anyone is concerned, you are pure-blood. So I expect you to act like it.” 
 Her school robes and supplies were not as grand as Tiernan’s, and she wasn’t allowed an owl or a cat or a toad. But she told herself that she would make do with what she had, and she felt at least a little bit grateful that the Lestranges didn’t give her tattered secondhand, even third-hand clothes, even if she knew it was all for the act. 
 When the Lestranges found out she had been sorted into Hufflepuff however, oh, it gave them all the more reason to ridicule and torture her back at home. “Of course the mudblood is in the weakest House,” the Mother would mutter beneath her breath as she and her husband read the letter their son had written. “We were fools to think that old ratty hat would sort her into Slytherin.”
 Tiernan and his friends— they made certain that her life at Hogwarts was just as bad as her life at home. Of course, Tiernan was the only one who knew the truth about her blood, Avery, Mulciber, and the others just tagged along because they found it funny. They loved calling her names, making her trip in the hallways, pulling pranks such as jinxing her school books so that they may not open no matter how hard she tried. 
 And still, she didn’t dare stand her ground, for she knew all too well that the Mother and the Father would catch wind of it, and make certain that she’d be on the first train back to King’s Cross Station. So instead, she dealt with Tiernan and his friends, just like she learned to deal with everything else. 
 But Tom… Tom Riddle was different. 
 Tiernan Lestrange and his friends worshiped the ground Tom Riddle walked on, and it was no secret. She remembered when she first saw Tom, all the way back in the Sorting Ceremony in her first year at Hogwarts. She remembered hearing his name ‘Riddle, Tom’ being called and she remembered watching as he approached the platform, settling himself down onto the stool. 
 She remembered the way their eyes met and she swore her knees turned into jelly when she gazed into those dark ravines he had for irises. And she remembered when the Sorting Hat exclaimed “Slytherin!” hardly before it had even touched a hair on his head. 
 And she remembered how disappointed she felt when she was called up to be sorted, the Sorting Hat put her into Hufflepuff. She wanted to be a Slytherin— she wanted to be wherever Tom Riddle was. 
 In all her time at Hogwarts, she’d never even spoken a word to Tom Riddle. They’d pass each other in the halls, but thanks to her brother, she’d never been given the chance to even tell him hello. And Tiernan made it clear that she never would. 
 So life went on, and she got older. She hoped that over time, she’d forget about Tom. But it was hard when he was made prefect, and when he was given the Special Award for Services to the School, and when he was made Head Boy at the beginning of their seventh and final year. 
 She remembered her fifth year during all the attacks on muggle-borns vividly as if it were only yesterday. She remembered how frightened she was when she realized it was muggle-borns whatever it was was attacking. She remembered the panic she felt when Hogwarts was on the brink of being closed— she couldn’t have that! She belonged at Hogwarts, not out there with the Lestranges where she was treated like vermin. 
 At least here, she could pretend to be someone she was not. 
 Of course Tiernan was no help, always taunting her and teasing her that she’d be next. She remembered when she heard that it was Rubeus Hagrid who had freed the muggle-born killing beast, how although she felt that it could not be Hagrid, she felt a sense of relief when he was expelled, when all the attacks had stopped. 
 And of course it was Tom Riddle who caught him. And of course it just made her admire him more and more. 
 But she would keep her distance. She’d admire him from afar. She couldn’t begin to imagine the torment Tiernan would put her through if he found out she liked Tom Riddle. 
 “Yes! Looks like we’re invited, Mulciber,” Avery exclaimed, pumping his fist. Tiernan rolled his eyes at his friends, “you’re invited every year,” he replied, just as Tom entered the Great Hall, and they fell into silence as he approached. 
 She could see Tom over the tops of the heads of the Hufflepuffs in front of her, and she slowly sat up to get a better look. That was when Tom blinked up and she swore their eyes met, just for a moment, before he settled down into his seat, disappearing behind the heads of the other Hogwarts students. She felt herself flush as she hunched over her plate again, a small smile creeping onto her face. 
 “My Lord,” Tiernan Lestrange nodded as Tom settled himself between him and Liam Mulciber. Tom nodded in acknowledgement as he placed a few pieces of chicken onto his plate, and Tiernan’s gaze flickered from him to the rolled parchment in his lap. “My mother sent an owl,” he said, and Tom hummed in reply, nodding. Still, he said nothing. 
 Tiernan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, and Tom, with his eyes slightly narrower than before, peered up at him, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say. Tiernan turned pink beneath Tom’s stare, and he presented the letter to him, Tom’s dark eyes flicking down to the inky black words on the scroll. 
 “My family, we… we hold a Christmas party every year,” he said, and when Tom glanced back up at him, he flushed again. “And you would’ve been invited! But it’s only for the oldest pure-blood families, and, well…” Tiernan trailed off when he saw the shadow looming over Tom’s already dark gaze, and Mulciber and Avery shifted in their seats uncomfortably. 
 Tiernan cleared his throat again, “but I’ve been speaking very highly of you to my mother. She wants you to come,” he said, his lips curving into a smile. Tom pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he stared back up at Lestrange, handing back the parchment. “Yes, I know. I can read, Tiernan,” Tom said sternly, and Tiernan clawed at his knees to prevent himself from trembling. 
 “Yes… well…” Lestrange said shakily as he rolled back up the parchment, slipping it inside one of his pockets. “…I’d really love it if you come. We’ll all be there— me, Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, Nott— and our families too, so you can meet them all!”
 Tom took a bite out of one of the chicken wings on his plate, placing it back down before wringing a napkin between his hands, gesturing towards Lestrange’s robes with his head. “Who is your mother referring to when she speaks of ‘the Girl?’” He asked, and heat crept back into Tiernan’s cheeks until they glowed scarlet. “Oh, you know… my sister…” he muttered, and Tom’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t she refer to her daughter by name?” Tom questioned, turning his body to fully face Tiernan, his interest piqued. “What does she mean by she ‘cannot have any more of her kind in the house?’”
 The other boys leaned in to hear what Tiernan would say next, and he knew now that there was no way to get out of this. He’d have to tell the truth not only to his friends, but to his Lord. 
 “Forgive me, my Lord, for asking this of you,” Tiernan hung his head and muttered lowly towards Tom. “But I must ask that you promise you won’t tell another soul about this. This goes for all of you, too,” he said towards Tom and the rest of their group. Lestrange gazed into each of their eyes and held contact for a moment with each, to make it known that he was serious. 
 Tom shrugged, “I promise.”
 Tiernan inhaled a shaky breath, before finally saying, “she… as you know, is not my sister,” he began. “And she’s not pure-blood, either. She’s a mudblood.”
 Mulciber, Avery, and the others all leaned closer and broke into a sea of murmurs, “that sure explains a lot. But a mudblood? In the Lestrange family?” Tom remained silent as he stared at Lestrange, beckoning for him to continue. “Her filthy muggle parents left her on our doorstep after she was born. My mother and father took her in purely out of the goodness of their hearts,” Tiernan sat up and stuck out his chest proudly. “And they kept her, even when they learned where she came from. So you see now why she never comes to the party. Mother always tells guests she’s never home for the party anyways.”
 The boys all laughed and ridiculed her while Tom, again, remained silent, staring absentmindedly down at his plate. He wasn’t sure what to think, how to feel. All this time he’d spent watching her, only catching glimpses of her from afar when he felt a gaze on him, watching as she turned away whenever she saw him with Tiernan and the others. 
 All this time he secretly lusted after her, the outcast of her family, the black sheep of the family. All this time he felt some sort of connection to her, all this time he felt he could relate to her because he, too, felt like an outcast. The outcast of the orphanage he grew up in, the outcast of the Gaunt family, the outcast of his muggle father’s family. 
 Tom Riddle never belonged anywhere, but he belonged here, at Hogwarts. And he knew she felt the same. 
 But would things change now that he knew she was muggle-born? Should he feel disgusted with himself now for ever thinking of pursuing her, for ever thinking of taking her in whichever way he pleased? Was it wrong of him to still lust for her, to still think of having his way with her? 
 Tom was clever but this, this he wasn’t sure of. 
 “So where has she been hiding during the parties?” Liam Mulciber asked, and Tiernan Lestrange snickered. “Mother and father force her up into her room. Says they’ll punish her accordingly if they hear even the smallest of noises coming from her room,” he replied, the boys erupting into another fit of snickers. Tom was still silent as he stared at his plate— he suddenly didn’t feel like eating. 
 The next day, she and a group of other Hogwarts students waiting to go home for the holidays gathered at Hogsmeade station, waiting for the arrival of the train. She snuck glances over to where Tiernan and his friends stood together, Tom in the middle of them all. She flushed and turned away when his head began to turn, and she moved to hide herself behind a few of her fellow Hufflepuffs, safe away from Tom Riddle’s view. 
 The train’s whistle echoed as the train emerged, slowing down to a stop before them. She dared gaze back over to where Tiernan stood with his friends as she waited for the doors to open, and when she did, Tom was no longer looking her way. She let herself stare for a little moment longer before she felt someone tap her shoulder, and blinked at the Hufflepuff girl in front of her with brown skin and shoulder length black hair she recognized as Clara Wingrave. 
 “Are you coming?” Clara asked, a furrow in her brow. She blinked and nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat back down. “Yes, sorry Clara,” she mumbled as she followed the Hufflepuff girl onto the train, sliding into the seat opposite the one Clara chose. She sighed as she settled herself into the seat just as footsteps thundered through the train, and she hardly had any time to register what was happening before their compartment door slid open, revealing none other than Tiernan Lestrange, Clarence Avery, and Liam Mulciber, Tom and the other three boys nowhere in sight. 
 Clara narrowed her eyes at their intruders, “hey, go find your own—“
 “Shut it,” Mulciber hissed towards her. “No one allowed you to speak.”
 Clara’s glare hardened as Tiernan leaned down to block his adopted sister’s view, his lips curving into a cheshire grin. Her hands balled into fists, and she suddenly felt the strongest urge to slam them right into that crooked smile of his. 
 “Mother sent the owl this afternoon,” Tiernan muttered, and he needn’t elaborate, for she was already used to the rules she was forced to follow every year during the annual Lestrange Christmas party. “Oh yeah? And let me guess…  I’m not to speak of the party, I’m not to attend the party, I’m to stay up in my room and if I make even the smallest of noises, I’ll be punished accordingly? Is that all?” She asked quietly, so that the girl across from her could not hear. 
 Tiernan scowled and grabbed for her throat, much to Clara’s shock as she shrieked, giving her a firm shake. She pressed her lips closed and gazed into Tiernan’s dark umber eyes as they gleamed with mischief. “You dare give me attitude?” He tsked. “You just wait. I’ll tell mother and father about this and—“
 “—Tiernan? Won’t you leave her alone for Merlin’s sake, the train is about to leave.”
 She along with Clara, Tiernan, and his friends snapped their heads to the open compartment door where the Head Boy now stood, a furrow in his brow. He narrowed his eyes every so slightly, and he looked irritated. She flushed when she saw him and turned away as Tiernan released her, dusting off his clothes. She glimpsed up at him as he turned to leave, not without making sure to flash a dirty look her way over his shoulder before he slid the compartment door closed behind him. 
 “What the hell was that about?” Clara gasped and shook her head in disbelief. “I know it is common for siblings to fight, but that was just absurd.”
 She shook her head as she shifted in her seat, gazing out the window as the train began to move, and Hogsmeade station grew further and further away until it disappeared altogether. 
 “He’s not my brother.”
 The train ride back to King’s Cross Station seemed to go by quicker than usual, much to her dismay. She wished she could stay on the train forever rather than have to go back to living with the Lestranges, and wished that she had an invisibility cloak so that she could hide and be on her way back to Hogwarts within the hour. 
 But, since she didn’t, she sighed as she collected her bag with her few belongings and exited her compartment, stepping out of the train and onto Platform 9¾, where her eyes immediately fell upon the Mother and the Father where they stood, eyes narrowed when they fell upon their muggle-born adopted daughter. She huffed as she made her way over to them, standing beside the Mother with a considerable amount of distance between them. 
 “Where is my son?” The Mother asked through gritted teeth, and she shrugged her shoulders. “He and his friends should be getting off soon,” she replied, not daring to turn to look at the Mother. Sure enough, almost as soon as she finished saying it, there stepped out Tiernan and his friends, Tom Riddle close behind. The other boys left to greet their own parents, but Tiernan and Tom made their way over to where she stood beside the Lestranges, and she flushed. 
 Why was Tom coming over here?
 “Tiernan,” the Mother smiled, drawing her son into her chest for a hug. “And you must be… Tom, is that right? Hogwarts’ Head Boy?”
 She glanced over to where Tom stood, a charming smile plastered his face and she could feel heat creep back up her neck. She turned away from him before he could catch her staring.
 “It is nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Lestrange,” Tom greeted them, shaking Mr Lestrange’s hand and giving the top of Mrs Lestrange’s a polite kiss. “Oh!” Mrs Lestrange giggled. “I like this one. The manners!”
 Tom flashed his best smile but snuck a glimpse over to where the Lestranges adopted daughter stood, her arms crossed over herself as she looked anywhere but at him. He eyed her up and down just as Mrs Lestrange clutched either of his forearms, and he was forced to tear his attention away from the girl behind her.
 “Tiernan here tells me you’re from the orphanage?” Mrs Lestrange asked and Tiernan felt like shriveling away beside Tom. Tom only nodded in reply to which Mrs Lestrange tutted, “how about this? You’re welcome to come and stay with us for the holidays. We’d be delighted to have you.”
 She froze at this and her lips fell agape with the intent to protest, but nothing came out. She knew nothing she said would matter anyways, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being around Tom for the entirety of the holidays. She’d been comfortable leaving him at a safe distance away from her at school, but now she’d have to deal with seeing him at the Lestranges? She simply wouldn’t be able to trust herself being around him for so long. 
 “Thank you for your hospitality,” Tom beamed as Mrs Lestrange fussed over him, leading him away from the platform, and she, the Father, and Tiernan followed close behind. Tiernan made a point of ramming his shoulder into her every once in a while, and it took everything within her to control herself, to not shout or push him away. The Father saw this was happening but did nothing to stop it. 
 It wasn’t longer before they finally entered the Leaky Cauldron and made their way to the fireplace, and they each grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. The Father went first, then Mrs Lestrange, and Tiernan before it was down to her and Tom. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had ever been alone together, and she forced herself to look away as he stepped into the fireplace. 
 Tom was no stranger to her shy nature. He tilted his head to try and get a better look at her, watching as she peeked over at him only to find he was staring, and looked away again. He smiled, exclaimed “Lestrange Manor!” and he was gone, leaving her alone. 
 Soon, she too was back in the Lestrange Manor, and she nearly ran into Tom where he stood just before the fireplace. Her palms instinctively fell onto his back to find her balance, and oh, how she felt she’d explode where she stood. 
 It was the first time she had ever touched Tom, and she truly did not expect him to be so warm. Tom glanced back over his shoulder when he felt her hands on him and swiftly stepped out of her way, feeling her touch lingering on his back where she had touched him. Something ignited within him at that touch, and every doubt he had about still wanting to pursue her seemed to fray away. 
 He wanted her. 
 “Welcome to our home!” The Mother exclaimed with a smile as she dusted off the shoulder of Tom’s coat where some ash had fallen, letting her palms soothe back down all the way to his elbows. “Tiernan will show you where you will be staying. Feel free to make yourself at home.”
 She began to follow Tiernan and Tom as they headed for the staircase leading to the next level, but just before she could, the Mother grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her backwards to face her and the Father. She scowled down at her adopted daughter as soon as she made certain Tom was out of sight and leaned down until they were eye level. 
 “Listen to me, girl, and listen to me good,” the Mother said lowly. “You are to be on your best behavior while we have a guest in the home. You are to stay up in your room for the holidays except for meals, do you understand me, girl?”
 She blinked— normally, she’d hate the fact that she had to stay up in her room all hours of the day, but instead, she felt relief surge through her. At least she wouldn’t have to see Tom, at least she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself in front of him. 
 “Yes, Madam Lestrange,” she said as the Mother released her elbow, and the Father stepped forward, leaning down to eye level.
 “And you mustn’t leave your room under any circumstances during the party tomorrow evening,” he muttered. “If I hear even the smallest of sounds coming from your bedroom, I will punish accordingly and do understand, I will not show mercy.”
 She heard this rule every year, but still to this day, the way the Father threatened her sent chills down her spine. “Yes, Mr Lestrange,” she nodded and when the Father waved her off, she walked as fast as she could towards the stairs, practically sprinting up the steps and down the hallway until she finally reached her bedroom. 
 Tom and the rest of the Lestranges were already in the dining room when she finally bounded down the steps, and he could tell Mr and Mrs Lestrange were using all the self restraint they had within them to not blow up at her, most likely for his sake. He watched as she sat down across the table from where he and Tiernan sat, carefully only placing a small selection of food onto her plate. 
 He glanced back over to where Mr Lestrange sat on one end of the long dining table before looking over at Mrs Lestrange on the other end. Neither paid her any attention, or showed any intention of speaking to her. She didn’t seem to want to talk either. 
 “So, Tom, Tiernan tells me you’re exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Mr Lestrange said, shaking Tom from his thoughts. He forced a small smile as he nodded, wiping his hands on his napkin. “Yes, actually, I wish to become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher one day.”
 She listened as she finished her dinner as quickly as she could, but she didn’t stick around to hear the rest of Tom’s story. She gazed over at the Mother who only nodded that she may be excused before she gathered her plate and hurried off to the kitchen where the Lestranges house elf cleaned. 
 “Thank you for the food, Gimbel,” she nodded at the house elf who only nodded back as she set her dirty plate on the pile of unclean dishes the house elf had stacked on the countertop. She hurried back upstairs where she shut herself in her room, sighing as she fell onto her mattress. 
 All she had left to endure was breakfast tomorrow morning, and she’d be free of seeing Tom for the rest of the day. She rested her arm over her eyes, her heart beating against her chest. She couldn’t believe the boy she’s been pining after since her first year is in her house, staying in only a few rooms down from hers. How she wished she could talk to him, to treat him like a guest rather than act like he wasn’t even there at all. 
 She even, for a moment, wished she was a true member of the Lestrange family, so that she could be treated as an equal. 
 Tom hardly saw her for breakfast the next morning, for as soon as he and Tiernan had entered the dining room, she was seemingly finished with her food, and once again scurried off towards the kitchen as she did the night before. Tiernan scoffed when he saw this as they took their seats on one side of the long dining table, loading their plates with biscuits and bacon and eggs. 
 “I apologize for her… strange behavior, my Lord,” Tiernan muttered to home as Tom took a sip of milk. “She’s always like this, you see.” Tom didn’t care to listen to whatever else Tiernan had to say about his adopted sister. Tom had already made up his mind about her, it was how he’d find the chance to talk to her that was the problem. 
 She seemed to avoid him like the plague, and he knew he more than likely wouldn’t be seeing her at all the rest of the day, since the Lestranges locked her in her room while they hosted their party. Tom was clever, so surely he’d be able to find a way around it?
 But as the time for the party to begin approached, he still came up with nothing. He had no excuse for wanting to see her, and with Tiernan practically breathing down his neck, he hadn’t any chance of sneaking away any time soon. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to see her at all when the party began and Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, and Nott all came rushing towards him and Lestrange. He had no space absolutely no space and no time to sneak away. 
 “Don’t worry,” Lestrange was saying to his friends. “The mudblood is upstairs in her bedroom. Won’t be coming out at all tonight, that one.” The boys snickered as they called her names and made jokes about her, but Tom wasn’t listening. Even though it seemed as if all hope of seeing her tonight was lost, he was still thinking of every possible excuse he could come up with to sneak away. 
 But fortunately, he wouldn’t have to contemplate for much longer. 
 “Blast,” Lestrange cursed, feeling around his pockets. Clarence Avery furrowed his eyebrows as he watched his friend, the others soon joining in. “What is it?” Liam Mulciber asked as Lestrange emptied each of his pockets, coming up with nothing. “Left my damn wand in my room,” Lestrange muttered, and Tom perked at this. Lestrange turned to Tom and stepped closer to murmur close to his ear, “forgive me for asking you of this, my Lord, but I simply do not trust the others. Will you go upstairs and retrieve my wand for me? I can’t go upstairs, mother and father said I need to stay down here.”
 If Tom was the type, he’d laugh and jump up and down at the request. All day he had been trying to come up with some sort of excuse to slip away from the party, and now he finally had one. He cleared his throat and nodded, “of course,” he said to Lestrange before making his way over towards the staircase, but he did not stop at Tiernan’s bedroom door as he passed. 
 Instead, he walked a little further down the Lestranges upstairs hallway, stopping at the last door on the left where she was, the black wooden door the only thing separating him from her now. Tom raised a fist to the door and knocked, and for a moment, it was silent on the other side. 
 Who could possibly be knocking at her door?
 She knew it could not be any of the Lestranges, for they would’ve just burst through the door without any respect for her privacy anyways. It couldn’t be Gimbel either, the house elf never came to her room. She grew weary as she closed her book and set it down on the mattress beside her, clearing her throat before murmuring a low, “come in.”
 She watched as the handle to her door twisted and it swung open, and when she saw who was standing there in her doorway, she felt as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. She’d only ever dreamed of Tom Riddle being in her bedroom, but never before did she actually think he’d really come in here. 
 But there he was. There Tom Riddle stood, closing the door behind him and turning to gaze at her where she sat on her bed, his eyes entrancing as they were dark. Even from across the room, his irises seemed to pull her in like they were magnets and she was metal, and she lost herself further and further into his soul…
 “Forgive me,” Tom said, and she blinked. Those were the first words she had ever heard him direct towards her. “I would not usually barge into a lady’s room like this.”
 Fire raged across her skin, up her neck, and to her cheeks until they were seared with flame. She suddenly had the strongest urge to open the window, wondering if she had broken into a sweat yet or not. 
 She blinked again, and the corner of Tom’s lips curved into a soft smile. He knew he already had her wrapped around his finger. 
 “Your brother thought he left something in here,” he said, gesturing towards her desk against the far wall of the room. “May I?” 
 She could not think of anything Tiernan could have possibly left in her room, but she wouldn’t dare question Tom, so instead she nodded, and she watched as he strode across the room, opening her desk drawers and sifting through its contents. 
 Of course, Tom wasn’t searching for anything. But she needn’t know that yet. 
 “Hm,” Tom hummed, closing the drawers he had opened and turning to face her again, leaning back against the wooden desk. “Perhaps, your brother was mistaken.”
 She felt small underneath Tom’s gaze, and she felt as though she could curl herself into a ball right now and shrivel away. But instead she sat still on her bed, unable to speak, unable to move. Tom chuckled and she pinched her bottom lip between her teeth, mentally cursing herself for being so shy. Typical Hufflepuff, she could imagine her adopted brother sneering. 
 “You know, you should really join the party,” Tom said, hoping to break the ice between them. She soothed the skin of her arms with her palms and rubbed at her elbows, shaking her head. “The Mother and the Father won’t let me attend,” she managed to speak at last, and she gulped down the lump in her throat. 
 Although Tom already knew the answer, he still tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Why is that?” He asked, and she swallowed again, forcing back down the truth. She dropped her head and shrugged, “because I’m different.”
 Tom blinked, and he suddenly felt like he was ten years old again, still living at the orphanage he grew up in. For over ten years, he grew up unlike all the other children, and even at an early and young age, he knew that he was different. It wasn't until Albus Dumbledore came to visit him that he finally understood why he felt this way. 
 It was different in her case, because at least she knew why she was different. But they were still treated the same, like they were misfits, rejects, outcasts. It was then that he understood the connection he felt towards her with a different meaning, that he first noticed this string tethering them together. 
 They had both been lost before, but just like he had found himself, she could be found too. Tom could be the one to find her, for he seemed to be the only one who understood her. 
 Tom’s footsteps permeated her bedroom as he made his way over towards her bed, setting himself down on the mattress beside her. She flinched when she felt the bed dip beneath his weight, and it was then that it occurred to her just how close he was. 
 They had never ever been this close before. 
 “Why are you different?” He asked, gazing down at her as she peered up, their eyes meeting closer than they ever have before. For a moment she said nothing, only continued to lose herself further in the dark depths of the treacherous caverns that were his eyes. He studied her— her eyes, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her lips. 
 It was no secret that she was beautiful, even Tom could admit that. But she was vulnerable, it was clear the moment Tom met her eyes again. And Tom could work with vulnerability. 
 “Well…” she trailed off, contemplating how much she should tell him. Tom’s fingers grazed against her knee and she trembled, her eyes flicking down to his hand and back up to his face. “You can tell me,” Tom said warmly. “You can tell me anything.”
 She blinked. Never before had she heard those words. Nobody has ever wanted to hear her story before, for they all thought they already knew it all by now. She was the child who was left on the Lestranges doorstep as a baby, the child the Lestranges took in to ‘raise as their own’ because they just couldn’t bear giving such a young girl away since they were so kindhearted. 
 So never had she ever thought she’d be given the chance to tell someone about herself, to let someone read her story. But there was something about Tom, and she felt like she could trust him. 
 “I’m… I was left on their doorstep as a baby,” she began, and Tom nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I was… I am muggle-born…” she trailed off, wincing as she searched Tom’s face for disgust, but he didn’t even recoil. He only gazed at her with that same patient stare, waiting for her to keep going. 
 So she did. 
 “They hate me for it,” she added. “For having dirty blood. I’m not sure why they kept me, I could’ve been a Squib or not even a witch at all for that matter. Thankfully, I got my Hogwarts letter when Tiernan did.” She wrung her hands together in her lap, Tom’s warmth drawing her even closer to him. “It certainly didn’t help that I wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.”
 She swallowed the lump in her throat back down again, and Tom let his palm rest on her knee again, his touch warm, like a kiss from the sun itself. She felt relaxed when he touched her, despite how nervous she actually was inside. 
 “They treat me… so bad,” she whispered. “They treat me like I’m nothing.”
 Her voice wavered before it broke, and when it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to continue, the hand that had previously been resting on her knee retreated so that it may instead reach her face. Gently, he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her face up to his, her teary eyes searching his for something, anything she could hold onto. Warmth, comfort, reassurance, hope, anything. 
 So Tom would tell her what she wanted to hear. 
 “You are not nothing,”  Tom murmured, and her lip quivered the longer she stared at him. “You are somebody. Don’t let them take that feeling away from you.”
 She blinked and her brow softened, her vision blurring with tears. She was somebody. Tom Riddle thought she was somebody. 
 And somehow, that seemed to be all she needed to hear. 
 A silence ensued and they only gazed deeper into one another’s eyes. With the grip still on her chin, he drew her near and he leaned down to meet her halfway, his lips pressing against hers softly, as tenderly as he could. He felt the way she shuddered under his touch, as if his kiss was a tranquilizer, and she was becoming limp and pliant, all for him. 
 So he kissed her deeper, he kissed her harder. His tongue was warm in her mouth as she let him reign dominance over her own, her hands shaking as one cupped the side of his face and the other grabbed his bicep. 
 This was what Tom Riddle had been fantasizing about for years. To have her compliant beneath him, to have her completely under his control. He loved how easy it was, how easy it was to have her. Although he’d admit, this connection he felt towards her was growing, and it was growing at an alarming rate. As he pushed her down onto the mattress and trailed his kisses down from her lips to her jaw, he found that his heart burned, as if she had set it aflame, and this feeling was foreign to him. 
 He had no idea what this tenderness he felt was, whether he dared call it love or not. For eighteen years, he was under the impression that he couldn’t love, that love simply just wasn’t in the cards for him, and he was completely okay with that. 
 But this feeling, whatever it was he felt for her, came unexpectedly, and he was unsure whether or not he should embrace it or push it away. 
 For now, he worked at unbuttoning her blouse as he sucked marks into her neck, his tongue swirling around her collarbone. 
 She pressed her lips together to contain her noises as Tom slipped her blouse from her shoulders and down her arms, discarding it down onto the floor altogether. He made quick work of her brassiere, his lips previously kissing her collarbone venturing down between the valley of her breasts, sucking marks onto either mounds of flesh. 
 “T… Tom,” she mewled as he pressed a kiss to one of her nipples, kneading her opposite breast with his palm. He hummed in reply, gazing up at her through hooded lids as he sucked the erect bud, releasing it with a wet pop before doing the same to the other. She squirmed beneath him and squeezed her eyes shut, arching her back up off of the mattress. “T… Tom, I… they will punish me if they hear me.”
 Tom smirked against her skin as he released her nipple from his mouth and kissed down her stomach, past her belly button, all the way to the hem of her skirt. He pushed himself up by the elbows as he hooked his fingers over the hem, beginning to tug them down her thighs. 
 “Then I suggest you stay quiet,” he said simply as he removed her skirt from her ankles, her panties soon joining the sea of clothes on the floor as well. 
 She sank her teeth down into her bottom lip so hard when he placed a kiss just above her aching clit, she feared she’d draw blood. Tom eyed her through his hooded stare as he teasingly dipped his tongue past her folds, testing the waters. He watched as her face scrunched and she kicked her legs, arching her back at just the simplest of touches. 
 So eager, he thought. 
 He soothed her stomach with one of his palms as he pecked her clit, watching the way she trembled and writhed, whining behind closed lips, silent pleading for more. Tears broke past the glossy barrier of her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks like crystals, and he smirked as he pressed his lips down against her heat, sucking her clit as it throbbed and ached to be touched. 
 She threw her hands down on the mattress on either side of her, her fingernails clawing at the sheets as he flicked his tongue up and down her slit, humming at the taste of her nectar on his tongue. She tried to watch as he lapped up the juices spilling down her folds before flicking his tongue against her bud again, but she couldn’t even hold herself up, much less keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. 
 “P… please,” she mewled quietly as one of her hands ventured down between her legs to grip at his hair, and she ground her hips against his face, eager for more. That was when Tom stopped and pried her hand away from his head, and she blinked up at him through her bleary eyes. 
 “Do you want to come?” He asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, shouldering it off of him and tossing it to the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes. She gaped at the sight of his chest, but he grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him, squishing her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question.”
 She trembled and felt her walls clench at his words, nodding up and down. “Yes. Yes please,” she whimpered as he tore his hand away from her face to work on his belt, tossing it and his trousers away until he stood before her completely in the nude, in all of his glory. 
 He was beautiful. And he was already beautiful to begin with but this, she never could have even imagined how he looked underneath the clothes. He wasn’t muscular or built like a statue or even a Quidditch player, but still, his arms and torso were toned, and his cock…
 She could feel her patience slipping away the longer he kept her waiting. She watched as he took a hold of his cock and stared down at her, maintaining eye contact as he gave himself a few pumps, his other hand absentmindedly stroking up and down her slick. She bit down onto her lip as she gazed up at him, watching him in anticipation for what was to come next. 
 Tom leaned back down to her face and captured her lips with his, unable to resist the temptation any longer. He kissed her again and again and again as he slipped inside of her, her moans muffled by his mouth on hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his skin, etching crescent moons into his flesh. Tom broke their kiss and let his forehead drop onto hers as he rocked his hips into her, slowly at first. One of her hands slithered to cup the back of his neck as tears streamed down the sides of her face, never feeling this good in all her years. 
 Tom let his gaze fall upon her face again, her eyelids squeezed shut but her face scrunched in pleasure, every once in a while muffling her sounds by pressing her face into his shoulder. He began to thrust harder than before, her legs wrapping around his waist and squeezing, beckoning him further inside of her. So he fucked her harder, and harder and harder and harder as if he intended to break her, to shatter her into a million pieces. 
 And maybe that was the goal all along. 
 Never has Tom felt this good, never had he felt so intoxicated by another person, and never did he believe he could be so attached to someone else before. Part of him hated it, part of him wanted to throw it away and stomp on it and set it on fire. 
 But the other part of him embraced it, another part of him felt powerful as he fucked into her with reckless abandon, powerful having someone underneath his control. He never imagined another person could feel so good, he never imagined someone else could make him feel so infinite. As far as he was concerned, he was doing just fine on his own. 
 But this was different. This was on a whole other level of power. He felt strong, even when she clenched around him and gushed around his cock, even when he felt himself so close to the edge, so close to releasing himself for another person. 
 He pushed away from from her and groped her chest with one hand, holding onto her shoulder with the other as he fucked her harder than before, without a care for how much noise they were making. He’d make it up to the Lestranges, he’d go down and tell them it was him making all the noise, it wasn’t like they’d punish him. 
 For now, he focused on chasing his release, on the way she felt around him, on the way he was so close to climax he could practically taste it. She sobbed beneath him and her lips fell agape with the intent of screaming his name but he clapped his hand around her mouth before she could as he thrusted again and again and again until finally he released, and warmth surged through her. 
 Tom’s chest heaved and he fell on top of her as she cried, motionless beneath him. Sweat made her skin glisten and tears made her cheeks swollen and sticky, but he found that he admired her all the same. 
 This warmth in his chest was new, and it was a feeling he couldn’t quite place or put a finger on. But if whatever it was could make him feel like he was on top of the world, like he was the most powerful being on this Earth, like he was infinite…
 …then surely he could learn to embrace it. 
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a/n; oop this is the longest imagine i’ve ever written 🙈 thank you so much for the request anon! i wrote this one up pretty fast because i really liked the idea, it definitely wasn’t stupid! so i hope this is close to what you’ve been imagining!! and feel free to send in more requests if you’d like! i love writing requests!
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@darkmoviesquotespizza 🥹🫶
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xiao-come-home · 5 months
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stone faced anon (💫 anon if it's free) here; as someone who has a hyperfixation in IT and coding I also think it would be very funny if Boothill had an s/o who wasn't necessarily a mechanic but like a software engineer or just a real big nerd about coding or something. He'll be experiencing a malfunction or a memory leak and go "oh yeah this happens sometimes don't worry about it" and then 10 minutes later he's sitting down plugged into a laptop listening to his s/o rant about how terrible his code is (crack hc: boothill's code was written in javascript) and how it's a wonder he hasn't bricked* yet
Would also be mad funny if Boothill ever got hacked and his s/o basically says "no you're not" and uses a previously made system restore point or something because of course they would both use and design every feature imaginable to keep Boothill in control of his own body, can you imagine the stress that losing control would cause him?? Even better if whoever designed him originally intentionally left a backdoor incase he ever went against their orders and when they try to use it his s/o just goes "oh yeah I quarantined and encrypted all the old files related to that backdoor and whatever else you were planning on a partition as bait and personally rewrote every file and function involved since your code is *an actual crime against technology*. by the way i'm going to go ahead and format that partition i mentioned, boothill- we won't be needing anything on it now that we can trace whoever made it. trust me, this won't be happening ever again."
*(bricking is a term mostly used to refer to hardware that's been rendered basically completely nonfunctional and beyond saving by using it wrong, mostly by messing with system files. Kinda like how windows can't even repair itself if you delete the system32 folder. Though i guess you could still install it with a usb stick if you formatted your pc- i digress you get what I mean. also since this almost happened to me recently: if you manage to fill up a hard drive to the brim, with literally 0 bytes of space left, that bricks it. reminder to check your storage thoroughly and often!)
Honestly wow I read it all and I'm a little bit speechless 🥹 thank you 💫 anon, it was great 🙏
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Boothill would DEFINITELY appreciate a s/o who's a tech savvy in general! I think at some point, he'd be pretty shocked you're so knowledgeable and just sit there, listening to you rant.. and just letting you do your thing.
Don't get me wrong, he definitely knows a lot about his body, his system and the way he works, but once you start to get in the zone and explain stuff to him, berate his code even, he just sits next to you, plugged in to your laptop, leaning his cheek against his hand listening to you like he obviously understands everything you say.
His other hand begins to gently play with a stand of your hair, humming deeply when the soft clicking sounds of your keyboard reach his ears; he twirls your hair with his fingers and chuckles, "mmm, really now?" Boothill raises an eyebrow, "encryptin' this, encryptin' that... How about we do somethin' more fun instead?" And then you shut him down from your laptop (😭).
Jokes aside, he'd feel very secure with you especially when he first got his new body, just knowing you'll probably fix a lot of things that could possibly blow up his face in no time, maybe even improve his life even more.
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gamerwoo · 13 days
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Bang Chan: The Girl Who Didn't Cry Wolf (Part Two)
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Characters: Bang Chan x fem reader
Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, enemies-to-lovers-ish??, slowburn, werewolf/alpha!chan, (werewolf)hunter!reader, angst, a tiny bit of fluff, mentions that reader moved to korea, if i missed anything lmk!!
Word count: 1,953
Summary: You've learned to do whatever you can to protect yourself after an incident almost a decade ago had your father and brother dragging you to a new country to start all over even though they blamed you for what happened. After finding yourself stuck in a house of werewolves, you're forced to come to terms with your feelings over what happened back home when the alpha imprints on you and his pack claims they're keeping you prisoner. You know exactly how this will end if you give in, and yet you can't seem to get yourself to leave the sweet and charming werewolf who's willing to do anything to make you comfortable. You're just hoping that maybe there'll be a good end this time.
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“So am I your captive or what?”
Chan paused, looking up from his food, “What?”
You looked back at him, still chewing a mouthful of food, sitting criss-cross on his bed while he ate on the bed opposite yours, “Are you holding me hostage here until I… I don’t know, do whatever I’m supposed to do? Succumb to Stockholm syndrome or something?”
It was the next morning when Chan knocked on your door once again, and he didn’t actually expect you to open the door for him. You looked back at him with no expression, just blinking as he stared back in surprise. He was frozen seeing you cooperating even a little bit.
Strange werewolf hunter, was all he could think.
He had told you breakfast was about to be ready, but then you scowled and stated you weren’t going downstairs to eat with the pack. Were you holding a grudge against the two members of his pack that you’d scuffled with? Well, yeah. They both hurt you pretty badly – especially that Seungmin guy. If you had a chance, you’d give him a piece of your mind.
So a few minutes later, Chan returned with two plates of food and with a grin, said he was going to eat with you upstairs. So that’s what you were doing. And, again, he was shocked you were letting him keep you company. You were…oddly nice for a werewolf hunter – or supposed werewolf hunter.
“There’s no Stockholm syndrome if you’re not captive,” he chuckled with a shrug. “I guess…yeah, you could leave if you wanted.”
You were surprised by his answer, freezing mid-bite and just staring at him for a moment. He stared back, raising his eyebrows for your response.
“You’re not gonna force me into being your mate…?” you quizzed slowly, surprised that he was telling you that you had the option to leave.
“I mean, you and I both know I’m a hell of a lot stronger than this door. If I wanted to do anything to you, I could’ve by now, but you survived a night here. Woke up safe and sound,” he pointed out. “Besides…you could probably kill me if you wanted to.”
While that was true, you didn’t know if he could sense you didn’t have any plans to do so – at least not to Chan. You had started out as a hunter, but after fleeing to Korea, your father started training you and your brother to hunt werewolves specifically. And while you might’ve been really good at most parts of the training, it didn’t mean you liked what you were doing. But you wouldn’t let your father or brother know that.
“I don’t really have any weapons that could subdue a werewolf, though,” you reminded him.
“Well maybe if someone didn’t try to pull a knife on one of my pack,” he cocked his head and gave you a pointed smile.
“Nobody got hurt,” you scoffed, going back to your breakfast.
“There would’ve been a round two in my kitchen if I didn’t catch you before you jumped Minho,” he stated.
Okay, maybe he was right. However, the question of if you’d win that fight or not was definitely debatable considering you only had that tiny pocket knife as your weapon. Among…other reasons. But again, you were unsure if he knew that. He must’ve. He probably didn’t sense any werewolf hunter with you in the house, which was actually embarrassing on your part.
You were just grateful your father and brother lacked the senses that werewolves had.
As you settled into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you ate, your mind began to wander as it tended to do since ending up in this situation. And there was a lot to think about considering Chan was a werewolf, and you were a werewolf hunter who had…very strange circumstances.
Despite the fact you were training to be his sworn enemy, Chan didn’t seem to care. It was like he completely disregarded whatever instincts he had, and had given into the mating pull already. How he managed to just let go without a care, you weren’t sure. Your favorite answer was that Chan was just crazy and didn’t know how to be careful. But you figured it was because of how strong the pull was. Because if what the hunters taught you was correct about the strength of the pull, it would lead a person to do some very crazy and dangerous things…
But you were crazy, too, weren’t you? Because you hadn’t threatened him, tried to harm him, or even tried to run away once. You stayed in his bed when you woke up that morning and just thought. You didn’t try to sneak out or scream for help. You were letting this werewolf hold you captive, but he wasn’t even holding you captive. You were just staying at your own will at this point while his arms stayed wide open, giving you an out.
Yes, both of you were crazy. But maybe you were crazier than he was because the pull wasn’t even as strong for you as it was for him.
So, to at least keep a shred of your pride, you broke the silence and said, “Don’t think that this means I trust you now. I only wanted sustenance.”
“Of course,” he smiled, rolling his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it, hunter.”
“Your alpha must be angry with you,” you mused, putting a little less food into your mouth this time. “You’re a stupid wolf for imprinting on a– werewolf hunter.”
You hoped he didn’t notice how you hesitated with your words for a split second, the sentence almost flowing seamlessly but not quite as you tacked the ‘werewolf’ on at the last second.
But he didn’t seem to, scoffing with amusement by your comment, but he didn’t say why. Instead, he sat back in the chair like he was becoming more relaxed around you, especially now that your stomach had quieted.
“You’re one to talk. You let a wolf into your room when you have no weapons or defense. I even locked you in here and you didn’t complain once,” he pointed out. “I haven’t even heard you screaming for help up here.”
Your mouth opened, but silence followed instead. You almost gave yourself away, stopping before it was almost too late.
You realized Chan reminded you of him. Actually, the whole scenario did. You weren't sure you liked that, feeling your stomach twist uncomfortably.
“What’s up?” Chan wondered, noticed you staring into space with your mouth open.
Your mouth snapped shut and you quickly shook your head, “Nothing.”
You were becoming too soft around him so quickly. You were getting too comfortable without realizing, and you knew it was because of the mating pull. Suddenly, you could hear your brother and father’s voices in your head.
All werewolves are bad, _____, your father spat in your face during your very first werewolf hunter lesson, Even if you think you know them, they’re evil, horrible creatures! If you don’t kill them first, they’ll turn on you eventually.
But that memory made you think of another…
It’s your fault this happened, Nolan had scoffed at you once after one of your training sessions. You weren’t very good back then because, frankly, you didn’t want to be good, and your brother was pissed at you for not putting your heart in it, If it wasn't for you, we’d still be home and everyone would be happy and alive. Then you act like you don’t even want to make things right? I should shoot you myself, you fucking traitor.
You set the food down and shoved it away from you.
“I think you should go,” you stated coldly.
Chan suddenly sat up straighter, confusion on his face at how you suddenly seemed to just flip a switch, “What?”
“Get out,” you told him, looking across the room at him, dead in the eyes.
“I– What? Wait, was it what I said?” he asked quickly with a twinge of hurt in his eyes that you definitely noticed as he stood from the bed. “_____, I didn’t mean–”
You stood from the bed and pointed at the door, “You just had to feed me. I’m fed. Go. Away.”
Chan stood as well and walked over to where you stood in the middle of the room. Without thinking, he reached out to hold your hand, “_____–”
Immediately, your instincts kicked in. You quickly turned on your heel, keeping his hand in yours while reaching for his arm with the other, holding it over your shoulder. Then you pulled and bent over, throwing the werewolf over your body until he landed with a loud thud on the hardwood.
He didn’t even seem hurt. He just stared up at you in shock. He even seemed…a bit impressed. You’d just flipped him with ease.
You were shocked yourself. Some part of you felt...bad.
But now you could hear multiple sets of feet running up the stairs, and you knew you were in for it if his pack saw that you flipped him on his back. You harmed him. You were a threat to them now. Obviously you couldn’t fight all of them, so you just wanted to keep them all away from you.
“You have five seconds to get out of my room,” you told him, sounding more panicked than menacing.
Instead, he gave you a defeated look and pushed himself off the floor before going over to the bedroom door and unlocking it. He didn’t even look behind him as he left, but you heard the whine come from his chest.
Once the door was closed and you had locked it once again, you waited until you heard the commotion of the pack retreat back down the stairs. Then you sat back down on Chan’s bed and let out a deep sigh. Why did it have to be you? You were going through enough with conflicting ideals that went against what your family wanted you to feel. Now whatever higher power out there had to make it worse and force you to have feelings for a werewolf? Why did you have to be stuck being his mate? Why you? Why you?
You decided you needed to escape. The thought sent a twinge of pain to your heart that reminded you–
You shook the thought from your head, blinking rapidly to fight back tears as you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Leaving was the only option for either of you to be safe. You wouldn’t tell Chan you wanted to keep him safe, but you knew you felt it and you had to act on it. The alternative was both of you getting killed, and probably even his pack. That wasn’t something you could let happen.
You glanced at the window that was perfectly centered between Chan's bed and Felix's. You stood and went to examine it, seeing a tree not too far from the window. You could probably jump to it and then climb down. Maybe while the pack was asleep.
You’d leave that night, you decided. You felt bad, thinking about leaving without any explanation. Maybe you could find a way to get some paper and a pen or something to leave a note?
No. If there was any evidence that you felt bad leaving…
As much as it hurt, you had to do it. You had to do a lot of other things in your life that hurt, anyway, so this was no different. Suck it up and carry on like always.
You were a strong werewolf hunter, after all. You had a reputation to live up to.
»»————-  ————-««
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ja3yun · 10 months
Text
The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.5
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sim jaeyun x afab!reader
warnings: smut(ish), mdni, cheating (i'm sorry), almost handjobs, heavy makeout, alcohol, serious longing, ynjake make stupid decisions, lmk if there is anything else.
wc: 4.7k+
synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. However, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.
a/n: hey...hi...how we all doing. listen if you hate me after this chapter I get it </3. I did leave this on a cliffhanger but the next part is the finale! i love my little pookie yn she's trying her best she just can't handle her liquor (she's so real, so me). hope you all enjoy and see you for the finale next week!
masterlist
The shower hits off your skin as you finally have time to process everything that’s happened over the last few days; seeing Jaeyun again, coming to terms with his engagement, getting forgiveness from him, and his dad’s words. It’s a lot to process. The one thing you can’t seem to understand though is his and Yeoreum’s relationship. When you first arrived it was as if everything was sunshine and rainbows with the way she was talking. Her nonchalant way of saying he got over you quickly, how they’re soulmates, but that's not what his actions are saying and definitely not what they’re argument was eluding to. Your mind scrambles to piece it all together, like, maybe it’s different because you’re here and once the wedding is over and you leave they’ll go back to the way Yeoreum painted them. 
But he kissed your hand. He made all those CDs of your old mixtapes. He told you he loved you.
The warm droplets act as a blanket around you providing comfort and warmth as you run your fingers through your wet and soapy hair. Thinking about him just made more memories rise to the surface. How when you got stressed with exams he would make you take a shower with him and he would innocently wash your hair for you. His fingers would rub your scalp as if to ease the pain your brain was in from cramming so many topics in it at once. With his chest flushed against your back, he raked his hands through your hair and made sure he didn’t miss a bit. “I’m practicing. For when we’re old and brittle and have to look after each other.” He would say so casually. That was the thing about Jaeyun, he always made you feel like no matter what happened, his love for you was eternal.
You turn the shower off and step carefully onto the mat, but as a chap sounds from the door you jump and almost lose your balance. Gripping tightly onto the counter to steady yourself you curse under your breath and wrap a towel around your body. “Yes?”
“Y/N! Hurry up, we’re going out tonight.” Eunseo’s pretty voice travels through the door. After confirming it was her you open the door and look at her confused. “Me, you, Heeseung, Jake, and Yeoreum are going out. Like a joint bachelor-bachelorette thingy.” She claps excitedly. 
“Didn’t they already have their parties? You got really stressed when the inflatables you planned went to your elderly neighbour.” A chuckle leaves your lips as you recall the incident. The delivery of nonsensical blowup dicks and penis straws went to Mrs. Kim, a 87-year-old lady, who lives next door to Eunseo and she, unfortunately, opened it. Their relationship was never the same.
Eunseo scowls at the thought, “Please don’t remind me, she thinks I’m a sex pest or something now.” Her hand raised to stop you from saying any further as she carried on, “But this is just to let loose. After that walk and shit, I think they need it.” Nodding you agree and she smiles, “Then get ready! I’ve looked out your fit.” That could only mean one thing: you were going to be cold tonight.
After getting dressed you trail behind Eunseo you walk into the living room to find the rest waiting for you both which seems to be a theme this past week. Eunseo apologises like she always does and then hurries everyone as if she isn’t the reason the taxi fare is already up by £20. 
Heeseung puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning down to whisper, “You look so good. If there wasn’t a bro code…” he trails off and leaves it there with a cheeky smile. To be honest you felt hot, probably the hottest you have in any of your best friend’s clothes. She had looked out a black corset top with lacey detailing at the side, a white mini skirt with perfectly placed black bows on either side of your hips, and black thigh-high boots that were not the easiest to get on. This outfit called for your hair to be curled and eyeliner so sharp that it could open envelopes.
Nudging him you laugh and keep walking, “You couldn’t handle it.” You playfully sway your hips and Heeseung pretends to fall to his knees, a hand clutching his chest. When little moments like this happen, the world suddenly feels like it’s aligned. Like you had your old life back.
The taxi drive is short, and full of chatter and excitement. Yeoreum and Jaeyun seem to have made up, or at least enough to fake it for the journey, her laughter and his hand on her thigh being your indications. 
The club is busy, filled with people your age and younger just trying to get drunk. Thursdays are always the best day to go out; it’s cheaper and has a more student-based clientele than on a Saturday when creepy men in their 40s come out from the shadows. Eunseo flashes her signature smile and you guys are let in without any hesitation. You look at her skimpy outfit and think that might have helped the situation.
Music and heat hit you all at once and it’s overwhelming but in the best way possible. The musky smell of alcohol and smoke from the machines feels like a time machine back to your second year of college, a mixture of shame and fondness washing over you as you remember the many hook-ups and walks of shame you did.
Eunseo grabs your hand and raises it as she leads you to the bar to get the first of too many drinks tonight. She orders two double vodkas with lemonade and two baby guinnesses, they've become your favourites over the years. As the bartender goes to make them she turns to you, “Are you going to make your move on Heeseung tonight?” A loud sharp laugh leaves your mouth at her question, she really wasn’t letting this go.
“Eunseo, he isn’t my type I have told you this.” The shots come first and you clink it on the bar and shoot it down. “He’s hot but I’m not interested.”
“Those two sentences don’t go together, babe. And what’s one night? You’ve been with plenty of uglier men than him.” Her eyes are on Heeseung at the other side of the bar, buying drinks for him and the bride and groom. 
“I don’t know,” You desperately try to come up with an excuse as to why you won’t fuck him. It’s a boundary you can’t cross but if you tell her that you need to tell her about you and Jaeyun’s history. Your drinks are now in front of you both and you use that as the perfect excuse, “Come on, let’s dance.”
One hand holding your drink and the other holding Eunseo’s hand you lead her to a spot and start to move your hips to the music, letting all the tension you’ve felt go. A genuine smile creeps on your face and you down your drink. And another. And another.
Shots. Doubles. Test tubes. Cocktails. You’re surprised you’re still standing. 
The lights are blurred as you laugh at nothing, jumping around and splashing your drink on innocent bystanders along the way. Eunseo is off finding herself a suitor for the night so it leaves you on your own for a while. That is until familiar hands make their way to your hips and hold you still. 
Your head slowly turns around, scared that if you go too fast you might vomit. A concerned look from Jaeyun is what you are met with as he speaks to you but with the music and your drunkenness you can’t hear him, instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and giggle like you’re in high school again after seeing his face. “Jaeyun.” His name comes out with a laugh, “Come to dance with me?” Your head tilts, your eyes shut, and your mouth pouts. 
“Y/N, come on sit down with us.” His head nods to the booth his fiance and best man are sitting at, their eyes on you both. Sober you would agree and keep your distance, but drunk you is in charge and you know fine well how that goes. She doesn’t make your life that easy.
“Baby” you whine, “One dance? Pretty please?” Your bottom lip hides your top one and Jaeyun almost falls to his knees. You’re so cute like this he could eat you up, or eat you out if he was in different circumstances. His eyes dart to Heeseung in a pleading manner and he seems to catch the gist, pulling Yeoreum to the bar for another drink. 
Jaeyun gives in. “One dance, and then you’re sitting down.” His hands gently squeeze your hips like he used to when he was warning you. 
“On your lap?” A smirk slips onto your face and your free hand plays with his hair.
Jaeyun blows out air and looks up to the ceiling, trying to calm himself down. “No, Y/N.” He speaks to the sky before finding the courage to speak directly at you again, “On a seat.”
You were making this so difficult for him, if it wasn’t your outfit it was the reckless way you were behaving as if his fiance wasn’t just meters away. The skirt that was already short was now basically halfway up your ass and his hands longed to be placed there. You’re the bain of his existence and all his morals in this moment.
You bring your hands back to your chest, clutching the drink and downing it before throwing the plastic away and reaching up, doing some sort of dancing but to Jaeyun it’s more like one of those animal mating calls. You’re calling him to you and he’s seconds away from answering. His hands let go of your waist and hover over your arm, “Come on, let’s go sit dow-” 
“You promised one dance and I have yet to see you dance Mr. Sim.” Your words slur but the tone is authoritative yet playful. Awkwardly, he grants your wish and dances with you, aware of where is appropriate to touch and what’s not but when you grab his hands to place them on your ass he squeezes impulsively, bringing you closer to him. “That’s it.” You say so innocently but it has his two heads fuzzy with need. 
“Princess, we can’t dance like this.” Despite his words his hands never leave your backside. Here comes that pout again decorating your face and your eyes twinkle.
“But I’ve been a good girl.” 
Oh fuck. 
Jaeyun growls and squeezes your plump cheeks, the action pressing his cock against your lower abdomen. You jump a little asking for him to pick you up like you used to do and his mind is so overcome with desire for you his hands slide to the back of your thighs and hoist you up. Smiling proudly you look down at him, now slightly taller from the height he’s holding you, you lean into his neck and brush your glossy lips over his sensitive spot. Even after all these years and with more alcohol in your system than an aunt at Christmas you’re still aware of Jaeyun’s likes and wants. 
Jaeyun carries you to the back of the club which was basically in pure darkness, the only light coming from the emergency exit sign and a passing strobe light. Every sensible fiber of his being is lost, the only coherent thought he has is to listen to his heart calling out for you.
He perches you up on the thin bar that’s screwed into the wall, the metal cold against your skin but at this moment you couldn’t care less. Your lips are now on his neck, kissing your way down to his shoulder and his chest rumbles with a moan. “Princess I’ve missed you so much.” His hands hold you steady, thumb rubbing against the lace on your corset. 
“Missed you more.” You puff out, eyes locking onto his. “I love you”. The phrase slips out of your mouth purposefully for the first time in 4 years and Jaeyun’s eyes flash with something, something electric and his mouth is on yours quicker than lightning. His lips that you’ve craved finally find their way back home to you. “I love you so much.” You whisper, your lips always connected. 
Grabbing his t-shirt you pull him in closer, scared that if you loosen your grip he’ll be gone forever. He feels your desperate touch and his tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he grinds his hips into your core. He uses your moaning as a gateway into your mouth, his tongue exploring around and coming into contact with your soft kitten licks. Just as before, a growl leaves him, kissing you so passionately and deeply. “Love you so fucking much, baby.” 
His words fuel you to lose all sense of control and your hands slide down his torso to his jeans, pawing over his concealed cock. You missed Jaeyun more than anything, and god did you miss his dick and how it was tailor-made just for you. 
As your hands slip into his jeans he stops kissing you and looks at you deep into your soul, begging for it, and then he really looks at you. You’re drunk, eyes glazed, you might not remember this, or worse, regret it. He's also doing the one thing he promised never to do to any woman. Cheat. His heart stops as he comes to terms with what he has to do.
“Princess, we can’t.” Reluctantly he grabs your arm and pulls it, the warmth of your palm gone, leaving his cock twitching and aching for you. You’re confused, looking between your hand and his face.
“Did I do something wrong?” The innocent question paired with your bambi eyes almost has him saying no and letting this continue but he shakes his head and holds your hand in his.
“Never. You’re such a good girl, yeah?” You smile and go to touch him again but he grabs your face with his hands, the action stopping you. “We just can’t.” You whisper a small ‘why?’ almost inaudible, “Because, baby, you’re drunk and this is complicated. I want you so much, please don’t think I don’t.” He assures you as he sees the tears fill your eyes. His lips kiss yours again and he’s playing with fire but if tomorrow you sober up and don’t speak to him again, he has to have one last kiss.
He picks you up and places you down so your feet are on the sticky club ground. “Let’s get you back to the house, okay Princess?” He whispers and turns around but your small hand is suddenly on his cheek, guiding it to face you. “What is it, love?” his hand lays over yours as he melts into your touch.
“Please don’t marry her.”
____________
A dull pain spreads across your forehead as the sun infiltrates the room rudely awakening you. There is a taste in your mouth but you can’t quite place it, it’s strange yet familiar. You don’t remember much, and what you do remember is blurry and without a timeline. There were shots, vodkas, and dancing, these are the only memories you have.
Looking around the room with squinted eyes you try to adjust to the light, it’s warm and you’re sweating which makes you feel disgusting and sticky. A groan leaves your lips and that’s when Eunseo turns to you, the first time you’ve noticed her since your sleep was disturbed. Her face is stern as her body swivels in the chair to face you.
“Good night?” She says bitterly. Oh, you’ve definitely done something wrong. Quick, think about everything, shots, too many more shots, dancing, a dark room? You shake your head to align your thoughts but nothing is coming. Eunseo scoffs and strides over to your bed, sitting down on the end of the bed. “You really don’t remember?” Her tone is accusatory with a glint of sass. Now you really had to think about what she was referring to. 
“Um, I remember you going to hook up with that tall guy with the pretty lips?” Maybe you could get her to speak about that instead of whatever awful thing you had done.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as the hangxiety kicked in tenfold. “Think harder.” She demands, her whole body now facing you with her legs tucked under her, “When I was hooking up with the hottie?” 
Think.
“I-” You had no answer for her, maybe after a couple of paracetamol and some coffee you could then hazard a guess but for now it was a distant memory buried under the alcohol that is admittedly still in your veins. “Eunseo what did I do?”
The question causes silence and the room has tension so thick not even a knife could slice through it. “Are you really sure you don’t remember?” She’s mad. Really mad.
Okay, so you got to the bar, had drinks, got drunk, danced with people, kissed Jaeyun, got in a tax-
Kissed Jaeyun.
That’s the taste in your mouth. It’s him. Dancing with him, kissing him, touching him, craving every inch of him, and Eunseo knows. She saw it. 
Your rapid heartbeat is going so fast you think it’s stopped. Your face shifts from confusion to guilt and shock. “See! Now you remember! Please explain yourself.” You couldn’t. There was no excuse to be said without blurting out every detail of your life and more importantly, your life with Jaeyun. 
Stuttering you look around wondering if there is any way to escape this conversation, maybe a secret passage that you can teleport from. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a way out. You had made your bed so now you have to lay in it. “Eunseo I-”
“No you know what, let me speak.” She stands up and clasps her hands together, “I can forgive you, just tell me you were so drunk you thought it was someone else, please.”
“It’s more complicated-” She cut you off again.
“I know he’s hot, okay? But to kiss my sister’s fiance like that, you don’t have any shame huh?” Her tone is spiteful as she spits at you trying to wrack up any rationality that you can muster.
“Eunseo please just listen to me.” I stand up and reach for her but she pulls away. Her demeanor is standoffish as she places her left hand on her hip. “It’s so much more than you think.”
“Oh, what? It was love at first sight? You thought it was Heeseung? Taking advantage of the fact they’re fighting?” A step forward from her has you stepping back, “Fucking tell me, Y/N because I am struggling deeply here.” 
“He’s my ex.” 
Her body stills, her hands laid flat in front of her as she processes your words. “Not your ex that…” she trails off thinking, her eyes following an invisible pattern on the ceiling as she tries to work it out, “Not that ex you spoke about? Surely not?”
Every inch of you wants to pretend it isn’t. Pretend that it's another fling and it means nothing to you but as you stare into your best friend's eyes you realise you can’t lie to her, not anymore.
“That ex.” You breathe out and sit down. “Eunseo, please hear me out.”
The thing about Eunseo is that she has always been understanding but as her gaze burns into yours you wonder if she’ll be so kind. Her weight sits next to you as she sighs and it’s your opportunity to speak. “When you invited me, I didn’t know. I didn’t know Jaeyun would walk in beside Yeoreum.” Your voice is pleading with her to believe you but her face remains the same so you continue, “I was so drunk last night I think instincts kicked in. I shouldn’t have kissed him.”
She scoffs, “What was your plan, hm? Did you see him and go ‘oh yeah I’ll get him back easy’”
“Never. It has never been on my radar. It was the drink. I-”
Eunseo interrupts you by sticking her hand in your face, “You still love him, don’t you?” You can’t even look at her, just the swirling mix of her words and the memory of Yeoreum during her argument with Jaeyun swirling in your mind. 
You nod, “Listen, I am not trying to break them up, me and Jaeyun haven’t spoken much. We’ve reconciled and that’s about it.” It wasn’t completely a lie, you wouldn’t tell her about the whispered I love you he shared when you saw him on the first night, or the mixtapes and handholding, she didn’t have to know. “I’m not breaking up this marriage.”
“Wow, so kind of you,” Eunseo scoffs, “Listen, I love you but I need you out of here.” Her tone is less venomous but still pointed. “Your relationship with him, from what Yeoreum has told me about his ex, isn’t simple. It’s deep. It’s dangerous to my sister’s happiness, and she will always be my priority.” Your best friend’s face is hard yet holds a fondness in it.
“I understand that, I wanted to leave earlier I just didn’t know when the right time was.”
“Now.” She stands up and crosses her arms as she faces you, “Now is the right time, Y/N. The longer you’re here the longer I have to worry about Yeoreum being left at the alter.”
“Eunseo he won’t-”
“Of course he fucking will, Y/N. He would leave my sister for you. That has been made perfectly clear.”
Wait. The argument Mr. Sim tore you away from, that’s what she was meaning. “What are you talking about?” You feign ignorance hoping she knows more than you do which seemingly it does. “What did he say?”
“He said enough. Look, Y/N,” She pinches her eyebrows, “I love you, and I know deep within me this isn’t your fault but please, go home. For me. For Yeoreum.”
You suck in your bottom lip to stop you from crying. If you lose Eunseo you’ll be right back to where you used to be, alone because of your own stupid mistakes. You rub your hands on your thigh and breathe out slowly, gathering your thoughts and calculating your next moves. There is animosity and hurt in the air and it breaks you. “Eunseo I-”
“I know, Y/N. But please. Don’t take Jake away from my sister.”
“What Jaeyun and I had, it’s so…” Pausing you stand and look at her, “It’s so difficult to explain. I don’t need you to forgive me, but please don’t tell anyone.” Your voice is above a whisper as you plead with her, “If you’re the only one who knows please keep it that way. He loves your sister and he is so happy. That is all I’ve ever wanted.” 
A sorrow flashes over Eunseo’s face as you sob. No one in this world will understand the love between you and Jaeyun, not until they’ve experienced it themselves. You make your way around the room and gather your things, ready to leave him once again.
____
Unbeknownst to you, two doors down Heeseung and Jaeyun are having a similar conversation. You seem to be the topic of conversation the day before the wedding, just like Heeseung had warned you of. 
Jaeyun is sitting on the bed Yeoreum refused to sleep in last night, his eyes tired as he tells Heeseung the details of what transpired last night. “She asked me not to marry Reum.” He breathes out slowly. 
Heeseung’s body turns slowly, his eyes wide and head at a slant. His flabber has been gasted and as he looks at his best friend’s sullen look he only has one question. “And?”
“What do you mean ‘and’?” Jaeyun’s voice is defensive like the answer should be obvious, but really he just wants to use this chance so Heeseung will tell him what to do. He loves you so much so that as soon as you asked him not to marry Yeoreum he almost instantly broke the wedding off. But he’s not that cruel, he knows there are too many people that will be hurt. If he really was going to call off this wedding he had to do it as respectfully as possible. 
But did he even want to call off the wedding? Yeoreum needed him. 
“I mean 'and' are you going to cancel the wedding?” Heeseung’s words prevent Jaeyun from answering internally. “Yeoreum isn’t exactly speaking with you right now, she was putting on a brave face in the club but look,” he gestures to the still-made bed, “She can’t even sleep in the same room as you. And you literally can’t see anything but Y/N when she’s around. I don't know what you said when you argued with her but it must have been bad.”
“I’m fucked, Hee.” Jaeyun plants his face into his hands and rubs vigorously into his eyes, trying to shake up his brain to make sense of it all. “Reum asked me yesterday after the walk if I would leave her for my ex.” 
The sentence piqued Heeseung’s interest once again, and he wondered what his friend would have confessed. He doesn’t say a word, opting to slowly sit next to Jaeyun. “I-” Jaeyun starts to speak again, “I told her...” The pause is a cause of concern and Heeseung leans forward to try and make eye contact with Jaeyun.
“Jake do NOT tell me you told her you’d leave her high and dry for Y/N?” Heeseung’s hands are gripped to his knees as he holds his breath. The stillness and lack of response were enough of an indication of what happened for Heeseung to shut his eyes and sigh, “What the fuck are you thinking? That’s cold, mate.”
“I don’t fucking know, Hee. I love Yeoreum, she helped me over the past few years to finally get back to a state where I felt like part of myself again-”
“Do you love her?” Looking straight into Jaeyun’s eyes, Heeseung asks a question that has been on his mind since the moment he found out Jaeyun proposed. “Answer me this honestly, did you propose to her because you thought it would help you move on from Y/N? Or because you genuinely love her?”
Their eyes are communicating silently. That wasn’t true, he really loved Yeoreum and he wanted to marry her because they were in love, not because it felt like a fast-track way to get over you. Right? Jaeyun thinks hard.
“Let me tell you what I think.” The oldest speaks up again, “I think you asked her to marry you because you thought settling with her would make you forget about Y/N.” Jaeyun’s face scrunched up, confused by his best friend’s words. 
“That’s no-”
“Answer me honestly, Jake.” Heeseung is trying his best to let Jaeyun see the truth, to finally put some sense into him. Jaeyun knows there has always been tension between his fiance and best friend, ever since they met it was like there was a wall between them no matter how many times Jaeyun tried to get them closer. But despite his quibble with Yeoreum, Heeseung wouldn’t say this for anything. And it’s not the first time he’s heard it either. 
“You know I’ll support you, but you need to think about this. Think out what you truly want.”
He recalls a conversation he and his dad had with him a few weeks after he announced he was engaged.
“Son, this is pretty fast. Are you sure?” His dad kept a stoic expression and his tone of voice was stale. Jaeyun simply nodded and smiled before telling him ‘It’s what makes sense.’. With that, his dad heaved out a breath, “But is it what you want?”
“Of course it is!” Jaeyun’s voice was raised, “You don’t think I want to marry her? Why would I propose if I didn’t?” A knowing look from his father shut him up almost instantly.
“Jaeyun, listen to me seriously, marriage isn’t going to help you get over Y/N.” Jaeyun stands up. “Dad, I am over her.”
His dad shakes him by the shoulders, “You will never be over Y/N. And that’s okay, but that means this marriage to Yeoreum won’t make you forget, won’t help you the way you think it will. Seriously consider my words before this gets out of control.”
Heeseung waits for him to process his words, staying silent to give him time. He wanted nothing more than his best friend’s happiness. If you asked him a week ago, he would never have said anything, let Jaeyun go through with the marriage because at least he is somewhat content, finally living his life without you. But now that you’re back and he sees how obviously you and Jaeyun still crave one another, he needs Jaeyun to seriously think about tomorrow. 
“Heeseung,” His breath catches in his throat before he utters the next words, “I need her.”
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boinin · 8 months
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Batten down the hatches: Rin's ego is about to land
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The latest chapters show Rin playing with an unfamiliar aura: what looks like swirling rivulets of water.
This represents the refinement of his ego and playstyle since the under-20 match. But what exactly are they going for with the swirling water? Here's my two cents.
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Rin is strongly associated with water, specifically the sea. He grew up by the coast; he and Sae shared a love of watching the sunset over the water after training together. Those childhood memories are turbulent now, like dark clouds on the ocean's horizon.
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It's here he realises that he can no longer play the puppetmaster football that helped him thrive in Blue Lock. As good as he is, it wasn't authentic... and it's nowhere near where he needs to be to compete with his brother, or even Isagi.
Rin's flow state is the most unique out of any others we've seen. Let's dig into it. All panels are from the official translation, which is important as the translation choices are 1) consistent and 2) likely chosen carefully.
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In the dying moments of the match, Rin complains about feeling restrained. Being Itoshi Rin is eating him alive.
Cool, calm and aloof.
A genius. Prodigy. Puppetmaster.
Team player. Team captain.
Isagi Yoichi's partner. Shidou Ryuusei's rival.
Itoshi Sae's little brother.
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The prospect of defeat rudely wakes him up. His pretence comes crashing down hard, triggered by his ineffectiveness in spite of the teammates around him. It's one of the best rugpulls in sports manga.
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When the power of friendship comes knocking, Itoshi Rin tells it to fuck off and die.
What a glorious moment... and not just because it posits Rin as a Uchiha Sasuke kinnie. I prompt you to examine his eyes in this panel.
They're a swirling vortex of hate and destruction, befitting Blue Lock's angstiest character. The shape reminds me of this:
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Satellite images of Hurricane Franklin and Hurricane Idalia, August 2023. Image credit: NOAA Satellites.
Rin's true ego, which he unleashes against Sae, is a storm.
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Optional soundtrack for the rest of this post (because Rin 100% listens to this once it comes out in Blue Lock's universe).
Although it isn't portrayed visually as such in the under-20 arc, the metaphor fits Rin's evolving playstyle. What is more destructive, more uncontrollable, more senseless than a hurricane? A violent force of nature that we can predict but never avert?
When a storm approaches, all we can do is rank it, track it, then attempt to mitigate the inevitable damage.
In football terms? Sounds a lot like playing Rin.
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It's even alluded to in chapter 250: the graphics for Rin's formation are similar to the satellite images of large storms.
Within the U20 match, there are exchanges that support this theory. Darai calls Rin's evolving playstyle arrogant and avaricious. The latter (meaning extreme greed) is evocative of a force that pursues what it wants without regard for anything in its surroundings. What it can't have, it destroys.
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Niou is confident enough in his physicality to try withstand his opponent's attrack. Rin literally flips him into the air. Niou's hubris brings to mind all man-made constructs which are supposedly storm-proof... until a cyclone comes along and proves otherwise.
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The contrast between Rin and Sae's egos are interesting. If we accept Rin's is a storm, i.e. a destructive force of nature that cannot be controlled, Sae's is the opposite despite being as impossible to defy. Sae's motif is defined in the manga as "beautiful destruction", plays and passes depicted in graceful data strings. Rather than natural, his playstyle is sleek and controlled, and dominant to the point of appearing pre-ordained by his opponents.
Their attitudes are equally different. While Rin drools and loses composure in the final minutes, Sae does little more than raise his eyebrows throughout the entire game. He's completely emotionless.
It's the extremes of human nature: animalistic rage versus robotic detachment. This time, the latter wins. Will Rin have an opportunity to face his brother again, with a better grasp on his ego? Here's hoping.
My final thoughts on Rin are speculative. How does one beat a storm? Not just endure—but subdue and calm one?
It's beyond human capability. The ability to control the weather exists only in myth and fantasy, and even then it's usually in the hands of powerful entities, not mere heroes or wizards.
Subduing something as powerful as a hurricane would require a god.
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Is this Isagi and Rin's endgame?
Time will tell.
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no1frogfan · 9 months
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In the wee small hours of the morning
Tsukishima Kei x gn reader
Word count: ~1k
Tags & warnings: fluff, a little angst but it's just soft pining Tsukki
Note: Idk it’s cold in the mornings now and that makes me think about him too much. Trying out a new header situation too, I guess?
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“Tsukki?”
A confused rasp stills him as he’s pacing through the living room, down the hall, and back up again. Outlined by the flickering tv screen, he sees a nest of hair poke up over the back of the couch.
“Y’ok?”
The gravelly timbre of your exhaustion weighs down each syllable, the edges of each word melding into one another over the tinny sound of some cooking show rerun.
After weeks together, the two of you have finally grown accustomed to sharing space. The living room is evidence of that — his half-built lego set, your cups (yes, multiple cups) of water, his clean jerseys, both your books, they all lay strewn across its surfaces. Kei’s finally stopped cloistering himself in his room, and you, you’ve moved past the pretense, no longer tip-toeing around him or bothering to look “presentable” around the house (not that he ever cared).
Actually, he likes you better like this — mussed hair, ratty house clothes, unguarded, at ease. It’s a secret little sliver of you that nobody else gets to see and he wants to hold it tight against his chest.
Instead of answering you, Tsukishima rubs his bleary eyes.
He’s been drifting through the apartment a lot these days, mostly in the early hours. Restless. Cold.
His toes are freezing and the tips of his fingers are icy as he curls them into his palms. You keep the apartment too chilly for him, but he never touches the thermostat. Not when you always look so inviting, all cozy and bundled in an oversized blanket. Yes, inviting. Even now, when you’re clearly pissed that you’re still awake, and so worn out that your face is crumpled into a tight grimace.
Three days ago, he admitted to himself that he’s hurtled past the line of friendship with you.
If he’s honest, he passed it a long time ago, and living with you has only forced him to come to terms with that fact. He’s sprinted far beyond a passing crush, barreling straight into whatever this is. Whatever it is that has you swimming across the inside of his eyelids whenever he closes his eyes. Whatever it is that compels him to pace the length of your apartment at night, slowing his steps when he nears your door, lifting his hand to the doorknob before hastening away, only to spin around the next minute and do it all over again.
It’s not cowardice. It’s not. It’s just…
Tsukishima stares at your huddled form. There’s a hint of impatience in the tilt of your chin, but mostly, you look concerned. Beneath your joking barbs and prickly exterior, you’ve always been concerned about him. That’s why he’s even here, trying not to inconvenience you further while his landlord fixes the leak in his apartment. It was supposed to take a few days, then a week, but now it’s been almost a month with no news, and he thinks he should just find a new place to live. But even when he’s snippy and seething about the whole thing, you’ve been gentle with him, letting him stay in your office-slash-guest room without paying a cent of rent (though he’s tried to insist on it many times), and bringing home treats to share after work (“They were having a sale!”).
It wouldn’t be right to force his feelings on you when you’ve been nothing but generous.
(What he can’t admit is that he doesn’t want this to end, for you to shut the door on whatever this is, once and for all.)
Plus, he’s seen you with Tadashi and Yachi and even Kyoutani, and you’re like that with all your friends. It’s not like you’re sweet on him. You’re just sweet. But he’s not sure how much longer he can stand to be stuck in limbo, unable to tell you and unable to not tell you.
The heat finally kicks on and Kei’s reminded that he’s cold. Freezing, actually, and haggard from lack of sleep. But he also puts on a bit of a show, rubbing his arms and shivering theatrically (why, he’s not sure).
“You’re cold,” you state dumbly, after staring at him for too long. “Do you want…?”
There’s less hesitation in your voice than he expects as you sit up a little to lift the corner of the blanket.
Maybe exhaustion was the final push he needed. He rushes over — before you change your mind (before he changes his) — and slips under the blanket.
Stiffening, you utter a bewildered noise.
Ah, shit.
Shit. Maybe not. Did he- You were offering the blanket to him, not telling him to get in with you. Obviously. Obviously. Fuck. Should he double down? Should he back off? Should he-
You stir again, and the weight of your head drops heavy onto his shoulder. (Is this…?) Tsukishima hardly dares to breathe as you pull him close and cradle your hands against his chest. He’s lightheaded, giddy as he tucks in the edges of the blanket, making sure to completely cover you both. He’s careful with his ice-cold hands, too, avoiding your bare skin as he wraps his arms around you.
Your exhales fan hot against the crook of his neck, and slowly, slowly, they deepen.
Eventually, drowsiness overcomes him too. After the frantic pattering of his heart has subsided, and after the bright red flush on his cheeks has faded. After the feathery wisps of dawn unfurl from behind the curtains, he cracks his heavy eyelids open one last time to look down at you, nestled tightly against him. Your face is slack, your lips gently parted, chest rising and falling in time with his.
Kei knows that tomorrow, when you’ve both had a good night’s sleep, you’ll have to talk about this.
He tightens his hold.
Tomorrow, whatever this is, you’ll cross that bridge together.
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