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anyway so im rewriting the specials to get yaz in there right and you kinda need her out of the way for wild blue yonder so im keeping her in the tardis to do the manual part of the repairs i guess but just the idea of yaz being There but Just out of sight but very much like,,,,Present, as an agent in the story, while this interaction happens:
which is then Immediately followed by the tardis with her inside Disappearing, just lends a whole lot of fuckin,,,,,,,depth of flavour that you really dont even need to do anything for
#the hardest part of this is figuring out the donna&yaz dynamic for me#i cant write donna ive never written donna#i feel like donna would be sooort of approaching yaz like she approached martha back in s4#but i dont think yaz would be as receptive to that as martha#bc yaz. is. in much the same state as the doctor is. in terms of trauma and running on fumes and lets just keep running and not talking#except that she /didnt/ just regenerate to become weirdly honest about her affections#she still loyal devoted 'shes fine shes fine' never told anyone running from home just said goodbye to one of her best friends#And also to maybe her first real romantic love who Died But Didnt#dealing with all of that as quietly as shes dealt with alll the rest of it up till now#thrown into this situation where she knows no one and the doctor knows everyone and everyone knows the doctor but she knows no one not even#this doctor#all that just to say. i dont think she'd be very friendly with donna#polite. mostly. probably. but also having lots of feelings#that are gonna be...........difficult..........i think for all three of them to deal with#bc donna doesnt know what shes dealing with in terms of doctor/yaz#maybe she assumes a friend. or else a rose or a martha situation. bUT. yaz is none of those#yaz isnt making hearteyes or Yearning In Secret at this point yaz is grieving and also i think trying to figure out her place#shes more of a river situation. not really. comparison doesnt entirely work. but like. river in the library. vaguely#more that than the secret crush thing that it was#and the doctor knows Exactly whats going on with yaz but yknow. Busy. and they havent really had a moment alone to talk abt it#if theyre gonna talk abt it#and donna is pushing the doctor in their familiar dynamic and yaz is just sort of...........squished between that#trying to stand her ground while not even really knowing where or what that ground even IS#anyway so. tldr. Complicated#complicated dyanmic and complicated to balance so i dont sacrifice any of the doctor&donna stuff#which might happen a little anywaybc i have a clear yaz bias but im trying to mitigate it as much as i can
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)
synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case
length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)
contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll
notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away
right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.
so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.
it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.
by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.
but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.
and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.
“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.
“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.
bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.
suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.
“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.
you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.
“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”
“i know.”
“you should be at school grounds.”
“i know.”
“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.
bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.
“where did you find these kids?”
“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”
again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.
“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”
“i told them they’d be safe here.”
they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.
maybe not right now.
you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.
your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.
you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”
they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.
right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.
“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.
“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”
great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.
“here.”
“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.
“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”
“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”
“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”
“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.
for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.
you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”
——————
nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.
he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.
you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.
the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?
“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”
“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”
“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”
“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”
“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”
“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”
“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.
being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.
you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.
haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.
suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.
there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.
but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.
but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.
“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”
something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.
something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.
“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”
“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”
“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.
“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”
“what changed?”
“everything.”
“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.
“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.
“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”
“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.
co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.
but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.
“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”
you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.
“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.
“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”
“for us…all?”
“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”
he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”
it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.
“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”
“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”
you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.
so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.
“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”
“but you did.”
“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”
“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”
“they need me,” he defends.
“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.
you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.
he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.
you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.
they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.
suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.
“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”
“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.
“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”
“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.
“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.
“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”
he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.
cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.
“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.
he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”
“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”
————— BONUS —————
“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”
“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.
“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”
“what—”
“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”
“that’s not—”
“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”
“he’s not even married—”
“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”
“gojo—”
“see ya!”
he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.
satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts
#teepods.writings#fics.#geto x reader#geto x you#geto angst#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru angst#geto suguru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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Horror characters seeing their s/o covered in blood
Happy Halloween everyone. I did a poll awhile ago on what I should post for Halloween and this won. So I'm here to deliver what y'all voted on. I included a lot of characters in this just for fun. Disclaimer I haven't written for some of these characters in awhile or that much at all, so sorry if some of these are ooc.
Includes: Amanda Young, Michael Myers, Otis Driftwood, The Lost Boys, Candyman, Doomhead, Patrick Bateman, Severen Van Sickle, Pyramid Head, and The Sinclair brothers
Warnings: Mentions of real and fake blood, slightly suggestive content, gn reader, talk of drinking blood in The Lost Boys and Severen's section, violence, murder
Amanda Young
You weren't supposed to find out about what Amanda did. She wanted to keep you separate from the gore of her apprentice work. But accidents happen and somehow you get to where a trap had happened.
You were in the where-house when you slipped on a puddle of blood and got your entire front half covered in it. You screamed out and Amanda quickly came rushing in.
You standing there covered in blood made something tick inside of Amanda. Something she knows she shouldn't feel seeing you covered in blood.
But she pushes this aside and quickly assures you it's fake blood that happened to spill all over the ground. She can't stop herself from giving you a quick kiss before helping you leave.
She'll get you all cleaned up back at home but she won't be able to stop thinking about seeing you covered in blood.
Michael Myers
Michael was out while you were getting ready for a Halloween party. A part of your costume involved you getting drenched in fake blood. After pouring the fake blood all over yourself in your bathtub you let it dry and step out.
You're downstairs, gathering up your things for the party when you notice the feeling that you're being watched. You turn around and spot Michael watching you.
Michael knows what real blood looks like and considering you're pretty calm he knows this is for your costume. But something inside of him is yelling at him. Not in the usual 'kill someone' way, but in a 'get them and try not to hurt them' way.
You're going to be late to that Halloween party. Michael is going to stand there and make you spin around for him so he can watch you move while you're covered in blood. You know he's getting some kind of kick out of this, so who are you to stop his fun.
After this Michael will try to hint at you to get covered in blood more often. He'll even offer to get the blood this time, but it wouldn't be fake if he got it. He'll keep thinking about you covered in blood and won't be forgetting how it made him feel anytime soon.
Otis Driftwood
You walked in on him at a bad time. While you've grown to accept what your boyfriend does, you don't like partaking in his torture of other people. But when you walked into the wrong room at the wrong time you got sprayed all over with blood.
It coats your face, hair and chest. You thankfully didn't get any in your eyes or mouth. You do let out a scream of surprise but you're not too grossed out by the blood, living with the Firefly family for as long as you have will do that.
Otis takes a good long few moments to just stare at you. You're hot enough as it is, but seeing you all covered in blood like this? Otis is going to have to go take a long cold shower.
"Well isn't this my lucky day." He'll say before walking over to you, completely ignoring the victim now. He'll take all of you in and won't let you wash it off so quickly.
"I just wanna take a couple pictures of ya darlin'." He'll quickly get his camera out and have you pose for him while you're still covered in blood. This will come in handy when he's having art block or he just needs to have some 'personal time'.
The Lost boys
It's your first time feeding and it ended up getting really messy for you, considering you've never done it before. So you got just as much blood all over yourself as you did in your mouth.
Dwayne is the first to notice and he's smirking a little to himself as he watches your blood covered body move. He's committing this sight to memory and he'll probably find a way to get you covered in blood again.
David is the next to notice. He'll smile wider than Dwayne and make some comments about how messy eating can get at times. But he'll also talk about how hot you look covered in blood.
Marko doesn't even make a comment, he just straight up lunges and kisses you right then and there, fangs still out and everything. Seeing you all vamped out and covered in blood really got to him, making him loose all self composer that he has.
Paul also joins in on kissing you, but he'll opt for your neck since your mouth is taken. I can see him licking some blood off of you, but not too much because he loves the sight of you drenched in blood. But the boys will agree to try and get you that messy again the next time you feed.
Candyman
You didn't want to go with him. You summoned him and when he showed you how devoted he is to you, you didn't want to go. So he had no other option than to make you go by force.
You're entering your apartment after going to a Halloween party. Your costume was something you put together quickly and involved you pouring fake blood all over your front half. As you walk further into your apartment you get a strange feeling.
You try to ignore it as you walk to your bathroom to wash off the fake blood. Before you can do that you hear something moving in your medicine cabinet. You open it and after a few moments a hook jumps through it. You obviously scream and run out of your bathroom.
You're in your kitchen, picking up your phone when you see him again. He's looking at you with that same adoration in his eye from the first time you met him. He's looking you up and down. You're frozen again as he watches you.
"You're even more desirable covered in blood," He says in his sultry voice. You shed a couple tears as you try to move, but you're unable to. "I'll have to remember this the next time I see you my love. I'll never be able to forget this."
Doomhead
He knew you were going to a Halloween party, but what he didn't know was that you were going to be covered in blood when you came home. He knows real blood from fake blood and when he sees you he can't help but chuckle.
31 is coming up and he's always tried to keep you separate from it. Seeing you covered in blood is a bit of a double edged sword for him. On one hand he loves seeing you covered in blood, but he also can't stop thinking about 31, and what would happen if you got caught in it.
"Ok so I got a little too close to one of the decorations and I accidentally got covered in fake blood." You explain, taking off your shoes, "I should probably shower all of this off."
"Well I was hoping to get a better look at you like this." He says with a Cheshire grin. You roll your eyes but smile and walk over to him. He spins you around a bit, taking a good look at all of the blood on you.
He knows he'll have to tell you about 31 eventually, and that he'll always keep you away from it. But for right now he can enjoy watching his s/o look stunning while covered in blood.
Patrick Bateman
He got a little too careless and right as he was killing someone you walked in, getting covered in blood from the victim. You of course start to scream and he quickly covers your mouth.
He's so angry with you for interrupting this, but something about seeing your face and body covered with blood, excites him. "I can explain this. Calm down and listen to me." He says, trying to keep his voice calm. His anger starts to mix with arousal as he slowly slides his hand away from your mouth.
"Oh my god Patrick what happened? Who is this?" You ask, holding back tears. His attraction to you is starting to get a bit too much for him. He'll find a way to explain this murder, just like he'll find a way to explain why he wants to do it while you're covered in blood.
"He broke in and attacked me. I had to fight him off and I went a bit too hard I think. We can't tell anyone about this alright?" He says, trying his best to keep a calm, in control voice, "But right now we need to get to the bedroom.
Murder's don't get him as excited as seeing you covered in blood got him. He'll have to go out and buy some fake blood and recreate this with you again. He's glad he has such an understanding s/o.
Severen Van Sickle
It's been awhile since your last feed and when you finally got someone you could barely hold back from drinking as quickly as possible. Because you were so worried about eating as much as you could as quickly as possible you got yourself covered in blood.
After you pushed the body away Severen took notice of your blood soaked clothes. He couldn't stop himself from smiling and taking a good long look at you. He knows you'll be too full to do anything after feeding that much so he'll have to commit this sight to memory, just for some fun activities later.
You wipe your mouth and smear more blood over your face and Severen can barely contain himself at this point. He'll have to quickly ask you if you're up to help him, or if he should do it alone.
Either way he doesn't want you cleaning yourself up anytime soon. Even after his issue is taken care of he just wants to see you covered in blood. He loves how it looks in general but also aesthetically. If he has a camera on hand he's taking a picture of you.
He will try to recreate this later. Next time you're feeding he'll try to get blood all over you. I can see him filling up his mouth with blood and just spitting it on you because let's be honest, he's very dirty and probably has as many diseases as a stray cat.
Pyramid Head
You're walking around Silent Hill, trying to find some more food to stock up on when you come across one of Pyramid Head's recent kills. You don't notice and you slip on the puddle of blood.
You're used to the blood and gore of living with Pyramid Head in Silent Hill so slipping on blood and getting it all over your clothes is more of an inconvenience than scary. You groan and stand up, looking at blood slightly dripping off your clothes.
You turn around and find him standing near you. "I just slipped on some blood. It's not mine and I'm not hurt." You say. You can never really tell what he's feeling or his emotions but you can sense he's feeling a certain way about you being covered in blood.
You two just stand there while Pyramid Head is thinking about smearing more blood all over you. Seeing you covered in blood is doing something to him. So he walks over, get's blood on his hands and rubs it over your face and clothes.
He'll follow you around and just keep watching you while you're covered in blood. He'll be thinking about this for awhile, and he'll try to recreate it whenever there's free time or he just needs to see you covered in blood.
Bo Sinclair
You were busy going after a victim and it got a bit messy. You got yourself covered in blood. By the time you get the body back to the House of Wax the blood that's on your hair and face has dripped down to soak your clothes even more.
You hand it off to Vincent and when Bo sees you he pauses for a moment before he chuckles. "I like yer new look darlin'." He says teasingly. But he's using that teasing to mask how damn hot you are covered in blood.
You're able to pick up on this and you know a great way to get him back for making you chase down someone and kill them.
"Oh I know. I love this look too." You say teasingly back to him, moving your hands up and rubbing your hand over your face and neck, getting a good amount of blood on it. You walk over to Bo and smear the blood on his shirt before you step back.
"Too bad I'm about to wash it off." You say before you dodge Bo trying to grab you, "If you catch me before we get to the house I'll let you wash it off." You say before running out of the house, Bo follows behind quickly.
Lester Sinclair
You're helping Lester out by picking up a deer from the road. You're in the middle of lifting it into the truck when something happens and you get covered in deer blood.
Lester quickly rushes over to you and lifts the deer into the back of the truck. He's looking you over and making sure that you're ok. You'll have to assure him at least ten times that you're perfectly ok and that the deer just got blood all over you.
Now knowing that you're ok he does kind of realize that, you look good covered in blood. Lester loves when you get a bit dirty in general, but blood has him feeling a bit more excited than normal.
He'll zone out a bit for awhile until you bring him back and he acts like everything is good and he's totally not obsessing over the look of you covered in blood.
He'll keep this to himself until it starts to boil over and he admits to you that he hasn't stopped thinking about you being covered in blood. If you suggest the idea of getting covered in blood again he'll be all over that idea.
Vincent Sinclair
When you offered to model for Vincent's study you didn't expect to get covered in fake blood. But Vincent wanted you covered in blood and you didn't really mind so that's what the two of you do.
You stay still the entire time but you notice Vincent staring more than he is drawing. But once he notices you noticing him he gets back to drawing you.
He takes his damn well time to draw you and at one point he stands up and walks over to you. He starts to pose you in a different way and it's totally not an excuse to touch you and see you covered in blood up close.
He'll put you in so many different positions and will keep pouring blood on you. He's honestly memorized by you standing there covered in blood. At one point he'll bust out the camera and ask if he can film.
He sees you being covered in blood in a more romantic, artistic way that makes his heart beat faster. He'll have to get you covered in blood more often so he can draw, paint, photograph, etc you.
#amanda young x reader#amanda young#michael myers x reader#michael myers x you#michael myers#otis driftwood x reader#otis driftwood#the lost boys x reader#lost boys x reader#candyman x reader#candyman#doomhead x reader#doomhead#patrick bateman x you#patrick bateman x reader#pyramid head x reader#pyramid head#severen x reader#severen near dark#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#slasher x y/n#slasher x reader#slasher fanfiction
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Unfollowed- chris sturniolo
warnings: smut, p in v sex, idk what
summary: you saw chris' following and he makes you help unfollow them all since it bothers you so much.
a/n: i didn't proofread cause im too tired and i know im gonna regret it when i wake up.
a/n: this was inspired by one of @mattscoquette asks I'll tey and find it when i wake up but I'm literally about to crash out.
"im not playing around with you chris, so stop fucking smiling" you say through gritted teeth, pointing in his face.
You were currently yelling at chris about his insta following. You don't normally check his following because he has your trust and you didn't need too.
His fans were constantly messaging you about it so you checked and it was random only fan girls.
"Unfollow them!" you demanded, handing him his phone back. "why? you jealous" he let out a humorless laugh; infuriating you more.
"they don't mean anything to me" he added you felt as though he was lying straight through his teeth. If they didn't mean anything why couldn't he simply unfollow them "chris it was brought to my attention and it bothers me. unfollow. them"
"all of them" i added
"i don't know about you but this is really turning me on" he snorts grabbing your wrist and putting your hand on his crotch feeling his growing erection, not taking his eyes off you once; smirking. "chris.."
you were flattered while also shocked, for the most part. what you were saying probably wasn't even being heard and if so he liked it. The yelling and you trying to stand your ground and exert dominance, it was cute the affects you had on him showed profusely.
"go lay on the bed y/n" his stern tone made your pussy throb, you were now just as turned on as him.
chris got up from his gaming chair and walked over to the bed, where you were laying propped up on your elbows.
"you wanna demand thing, how bout you do me a favor and unfollow these girls for me, while i fuck you huh?" he told you, not asking nor suggesting.
He pulled your legs off the bed and flipped you onto your stomach, your ass sticking out against him. you let out a suprised gasp from the aggressive toss.
he threw his phone infront of you on his following list. "don't touch shit till i tell you to" you nod in response.
"oh c'mon baby, you were doing all that yelling, and don't have not one thing to say?" he teased. you shake your head making a chuckle leave his lips "alright then"
chris tugged your loosley fitted jeans off and threw them onto the ground leaving you in your panties. He unzips his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers and takes his aching dick out leaking with arousal.
he pulls your panties to the side to feel your soaked cunt, his semi cold fingers coming in contact with your core made you jolt. "Y/n" he warns.
your panties were pulled down and tossed to the side with some of your other article of clothing. you helped by also removing your shirt, but you gave up when you started struggling to take your bra off.
chris tugs your hair back and puts his hand under your mouth "spit" whatever you could form in your mouth you spit into his hand.
he strokes his length, with pre cum and your spit.
chris groans when sliding into your pussy this made you sink your teeth into your bottom lip letting out a muffled whimper.
"Start unfollowing. and say the name of the girls you unfollow too"
he ruts his hips into you, a loud moan following from the sudden movement followed by a low 'fuck'
your focus was on the phone but the sensation of pleasure was a distracting and manipulating your train of thought.
"I don't hear you" he reminds. His thrusts becoming more forceful and deep.
"paige- i unfollowed paige" you squealed screwing your eyes shut and opening them again to finish what was asked of you. "Im not letting you cum until you unfollowed every girl"
That made you fill with haste and begin looking at names quicker atleast you thought you were going quicker. "sid- sidney i unfollowed her" chris makes a makeshift ponytail and uses that as leverage to fuck into you harder.
his dick abusing your insides pumping in and out of your wet pussy. Wet, lewd sounds of skin slapping echoed in the room. chris brings his hand down to your clit rubbing it vigourisly with pressure, leaving your mouth agape, whimpers and high-pitched moans exited your mouth.
"chris- i can't finish reading the names" you admit. "then i guess I'll just have to stop" he begins slowing down his pace "no!" You protest against it picking the phone back up
"thats what i thought"
"mia.. im close" you said "my names not mia" he lets out a humorous chuckle, removing his hand from your hair and hold your hips pushing in and out.
You are reaching your climax and trying so hard not to realese.
his movements were at an ungodly pace making you drop his phone and forgetting why you were holding it in the first place.
with a few seconds passing his actions were getting more sloppy signifying he was getting close to his orgasm.
there was one more girl left then you were done it's not like he followed a whole bunch of them just about 10 max.
"madeline!" you yell out the last girls name, hitting the unfollow button then finishing around him laying limp against the bed. chris feels you up with his seed, your juices mixing; as he plunges his twitching cock in and out of you riding out both your orgasms, he winced pulling out. heavy breaths leaving from both of you. chris flops down beside you on the bed.
waiting a few minutes watching, as your chest rises and falls; catching your breath. "lets get cleaned up yeah?" he suggested.
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo imagine#mattsturniolo#chris x reader#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader
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waking up to you
au!rafe cameron x reader
— in which you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.
warnings: alcohol, swearing, 18+ smut (poorly written), p in v, fingering, orgasm denial / control, praising, impact play, choking, drunk sex, just a bunch of stuff
authors note: guys 😞😞 i havent slept yet n its 8am okay see u today ! xo
previous next
sarah walks over with a few drinks, weaving through the crowd and handing them out like she’s done this a hundred times. she’s balancing a faint smile, her eyes flicking around the backyard as she approaches, as if she’s trying to relax but can’t fully settle.
kiara’s on your other side, and even though the party is in full swing, she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. her expression is tight, her shoulders hunched like she’s holding back from showing how uncomfortable she is.
you don’t blame her. knowing kiara’s character, it’s not surprising that a rafe cameron party isn’t exactly her scene.
“i tried to find the least threatening drinks in all that crap rafe brought tonight,” sarah says, her voice low as she hands you and kiara cups. the corners of her mouth twitch upward in a forced smile, like she’s joking but there’s truth behind it.
you take your cup, grimacing as you look inside. the liquid sloshes around in the dim light, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of concoction sarah managed to scrounge up from rafe’s wild assortment.
you lean back against the brick half-wall, feeling the cool stone press against your spine. sarah settles in beside you, her shoulder brushing yours, and kiara hoists herself up onto the wall on your other side, holding her drink with one hand, but she doesn’t take a sip. not yet.
the three of you stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s strange—this moment of quiet in the middle of all the chaos—but it also feels grounding. like, for the first time all day, you’re not just a spectator, not just someone on the outside looking in. you’re here, with them. part of their group. part of this world.
you glance around the backyard, watching the laughter, the reckless dancing, the drinks being poured and spilled. it’s wild, a mess in its own way, but there’s a freedom in it too.
in a strange way, it feels like you could belong here. like you could get used to moments like this. parties won’t happen every night, but this sense of connection? that could be something real. something that lasts.
you absently take a sip of your drink, the alcohol burning as it slides down your throat. it’s harsher than you expected, and you wince, trying to shake off the bitterness.
but then something else hits you, something harder. the truth. it slips into your mind like the sting of the alcohol, sharp and undeniable.
you’re leaving after tonight.
the party, the people, the wild energy—it’s all temporary. by the time the sun rises, you’ll be back in your own reality, where none of this exists. where none of these people know you.
you pause, your hand tightening around the cup, your mind wandering as you take another drink. you lean back against the wall, staring at the scene in front of you. it was fun while it lasted, but this isn’t your world. at least not really.
and it hits you. it’s been fun. but not enough.
you pull away from the wall, standing a little taller, turning to face sarah and kiara. they look at you, maybe a little curious about the shift in your expression, the sudden spark in your eyes. you’re not thinking about tomorrow anymore. you’re thinking about right now.
“let’s just get fucked up tonight,” you say, a grin pulling at your lips. because if this is your last night here, if this is the end of your wild, unexpected adventure in this world—then you're going to make the most of it.
sarah grins as soon as the words leave your mouth. her eyes light up with a wild sort of excitement, and she’s immediately on board. “hell yeah. let’s do it,” she says, already for raising her cup and preparing to take a bigger sip.
but when you glance over at kiara, you see the hesitation written all over her face. she’s fidgeting with her drink, her shoulders hunched in that same way, a small, reluctant shrug as she stares down at the liquid.
“i don’t know, guys,” she mutters, “i don’t know.” it’s clear she’s not feeling it, the party vibe or the idea of letting loose like that. but you and sarah? you’re not letting her off that easy.
“come on, kie, it’ll be fun,” you say, your voice soft but insistent, leaning in a little as if coaxing her into something harmless.
sarah jumps in without missing a beat, her energy contagious. “just for tonight!” she adds, almost laughing, because she knows kiara isn’t the type to get wasted or go wild in a place like this, but that’s exactly why she wants her to let go for once.
kiara lets out a small, reluctant laugh, shaking her head slightly, but there’s a spark in her eyes now, like maybe she’s considering it, even if it’s just for a second.
you and sarah exchange a quick look, a knowing glance before you both grab her arms, pulling her along before she can protest any further.
“come on, kie!” you say, laughing as you tug her toward the chaos of the party. sarah’s on the other side, matching your pace, pulling her with the same enthusiasm.
you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the realization that you don’t have much time left, but either way, you’ve decided. you’re going to squeeze every last drop of fun out of this night, out of this reality, before you have to wake up and leave it all behind.
the music pulses through the backyard, a mix of laughter and shouting that fills the air like a sweet buzz.
you find yourself losing track of time as you drink just enough to let loose, the warmth of the alcohol making everything feel lighter, more carefree. you’re wrapped up in conversations with sarah and kiara, their laughter mingling with yours as you dance together.
as the night wears on, you feel a pair of familiar hands wrap around your waist, spinning you around. it’s rafe. you hardly register his presence at first—too lost in the moment.
without a second thought, he twirls you into his chest effortlessly, and your heart races at the sudden closeness. you barely have time to react before he kisses you deeply.
it’s the kind of kiss that makes you feel like you’re melting into him, as if the rest of the world falls away. the music dims to a low thrum in your ears, and all that exists is the two of you, locked in this moment of heat and urgency.
rafe pulls back slightly, his breath warm against your skin. he lifts his chin and lets out a loud ‘woo!’ that echoes through the party, earning cheers and whoops from those nearby. you can’t help but laugh, caught up in the energy of it all.
he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing in an adorable mix of confusion and amusement, a smile dancing on his lips, and asks, “how much have you had to drink?”
in your tipsy state, you hold up a couple of fingers, a crooked smile spreading across your face.
“that’s my girl,” he says, taking your hand and leading you toward the side of the house. the party fades into the background as he guides you upstairs, taking you to a patio that’s off-limits to the rest of the guests.
the air feels different up here—cooler, more intimate. the view of the party below is mesmerizing, with colored lights twinkling against the dark sky, laughter drifting up like smoke.
rafe stands beside you, practically holding court with his girl by his side, completely at ease in this secret space. he leans against the railing, one arm casually draped around your shoulders as you both look out over the night, the chaos of the party a distant memory.
it’s just you and rafe, lost in the moment, enjoying the night and everything it has to offer.
his lips are working furiously on yours as he lays you down on the bed, a soft groan escaping his throat that fills you with desire. you feel weak against him, his body naturally playing rough with you as he kisses you deeper.
his hands roam your body, his thumbs brushing over the sides of your breasts, pausing to cup them in his large hands as his tongue slips into your mouth, his fingers finding your hardened peaks to trace over them gently. his other hand moves lower, caressing your stomach and hips.
you’re blitzed and needy for him, your hips bucking up against his hand instinctively, pleading for some pressure.
he chuckles against your mouth, breaking the kiss only to trail his lips down to your neck, his fingers lightly dancing over your inner thighs, tauntingly close to where you want them most.
his touch is addicting. his fingers continue their path until they’re buried between your soaked panties and your skin. he groans at the warmth and wetness he finds, his thumb pressing against your clit as his fingers start to rub slow, gentle circles over it.
you whimper softly as your back arches, chest pressed into his. learning down, rafe kisses your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he whispers into your ear.
“eyes on me, baby,” his voice is low, husky, demanding. your gaze is pinpointed on him, despite how difficult it is to keep them open. they flutter shut when he increases the speed of his touch, his own breath hitching as you writhe against his hand. “that’s it, look at me.”
his fingers continue their relentless pace, drawing out your release as he watches you with heavy lids as you come down, his own hardness straining painfully against his jeans.
as you cry out his name, he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing your moans and whimpers as your body convulses against him, his fingers continuing to work through it. he grins against your lips, his pride swelling as your release coats his fingers. he’s so proud of you.
as your body finally stills, he pulls his fingers free from your folds and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean.
his hands move to your hips to flip you over so you’re on your hands and knees, and swiftly discards the rest of his own clothes. when he returns the spotlight, he groans at the sight of you, your ass high in the air, presenting yourself to him.
hie hand comes down hard on your right cheek, leaving a red handprint. “such a good girl,” he murmurs, rubbing the sting away before doing the same to the left cheek, each spank leaving you gasping and gripping the sheets harder than you were before.
he takes a moment to admire the view, his large hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass. “you look so good like this, baby,” he tells you, giving a cheek one last sharp smack before hooking his fingers around your underwear and roughly tugging them down.
his hands return to your hips, his body crowding yours as he leans over your back, his hardness pressing against your still core. he nuzzles his face into your neck, his breath hot and heavy on your skin as he wastes no time, slowly entering you. he’s big, intoxicated, and absolutely hungry for you.
he hisses a breath through his teeth as he fully sheaths himself inside you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “so perfect for me, hmph?” he says, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts to thrust in earnest. he knows he’s not being gentle, but he also knows that you can take it.
his hips snap against your ass with a punishing rhythm. he reaches around to grab your throat, his fingers closing around it like a vice as he chokes you gently.
“my perfect girl,” he whispers, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly, listening to the pleasuring sound of your broken moans. he pulls out suddenly, his thick member slapping against your pussy before he grips your hip tightly and slams back in.
he hisses, his hips bucking forward, his movements becoming more frantic. his hands dig into your flesh as he speeds up, the sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. he’s merciless, each thrust meant to claim, to own, to mark. he grunts with every snap of his hips.
at some point, his thrusts become shallower but equally brutal, hitting a spot that makes you wail. he grins.
just when you feel your orgasm building already, it’s like he reads you like a book. rafe abruptly pulls out and flips you onto your back, pushing your legs up and out as he slams back in. he leans over, his chest pressed to yours.
he’s relentless; you’re learning this. with you, you’re like his prey. and he makes all the right noises to drive you over the edge.
“please,” you whine, your head collapsing back against the pillow. “can i please cum? please?”
his hips jerking forward in short, sharp thrusts. “not . . not yet. you can cum when i say you can,” he hisses, his voice laced with dominance. “you can take it, can’t you, baby? for me?”
you hold out for as long as you can but he doesn’t make it easy. tears brim your eyes at the frustration, at the stimulation that’s clouding your mind. all you can think is him. end the night with him.
“i’m not done with you yet,” he tells you, his face contorted with pleasure as he continues to thrust into you. he reaches down and wraps your legs around his waist, tilting his hips to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “wanna fill you up with my cum. make you pregnant.”
“‘m gonna cum,” you cry, and his hips jackhammer as he feels your body clench around him.
he can already feel himself itching for release, just like you. who is he to deny his own? “cum for me. show me how much you love me, baby,” he groans, his voice strained with passion.
his face contorts with pleasure as he feels you clamp around his cock, his rhythm growing erratic as he finds his own release. he lets out a guttural shout, his body growing heavy as he cums inside of you.
you lift your head off the pillow and look down between your warm bodies. rafe reaches for your jaw and presses his lips hungrily to yours—to taste you and to reward you for being so good to him. when he pulls away, he’s breathless, lifting off of you.
his hands cascade down your thighs until he’s gripping the flesh of your hips, pulling his own back, then forward into you. it’s slow, gentle, until he’s withdrawing completely. his cock springs free, attached to it a mere string of cum, a mix of both of yours.
then he’s off, retrieving some tissues from his bedside while you lay in the middle of the bed, fucked out, bruised, but in an unexpected way, relieved.
you hear the crinkle of tissues as he pulls you to the edge of the bed and wipes both of you clean. he tosses the used tissues into the trash without much care before collapsing back into bed, pulling you into him. his arm wraps tight around your waist, almost possessive, like he’s afraid to let go, even in sleep.
you lie there, listening to the soft sound of his snores. his face is peaceful now, so different from the chaos he usually carries. it feels strange seeing him this way—vulnerable, calm, and completely at ease with you. you should feel the same, but your mind keeps spinning.
it’s hard not to think about the day, about everything that’s happened.
just this morning, you woke up in a world you’d only ever seen on tv, a universe that wasn’t yours but one you’ve somehow slipped into. and despite everything, it’s been . . . nice. spending the day with rafe, with sarah, kiara, and even the rest of them. living in their world, even if it was only temporary.
you take a deep breath, staring at rafe as your thoughts drift. it feels like a once-in-a-lifetime experience, something gifted to you without explanation. one day to live among them, to see what it’s like.
you lie there for a while longer, watching as his chest rises and falls with each breath. his face is so peaceful.
before you realize it, you’re leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. your lips linger for a moment longer than you mean to. when you pull back, you watch him again, his face still unchanged, lost in whatever dream he’s in.
you whisper, “thank you.” a parting phrase that feels like a goodbye, and it essentially is. because deep down, you know this isn’t your world. it was never supposed to last more than a day, and as much as you’ve loved it, as much as you’ve found comfort here, you know it’s time to go.
with a sigh, you finally decide to call it a night.
you slip under the covers, pulling them tight around your body. rafe’s arm is still around your waist, holding you close. you let yourself settle into his embrace, his body pressed against yours.
it’s almost too easy, too natural, the way you cling to him, letting your head rest on his chest as you begin to drift off. your thoughts blur, and soon enough, sleep overtakes you.
@v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @httpsdrewstarkey @lovdrew @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @behindviolettwrites @avngrssckr @stonerroadbull @cali-888 @coquettajob @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @cold-soup1223 @inaluvrsworld @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @drewsephrry @sgecorrow @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies
jk ! when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the light—bright and clear, filling the room. you blink, your eyes fluttering open slowly, though your head throbs with the weight of a . . . hangover? this stuff really spreads to the real world.
the faint smell of something familiar, lingers in the air. groggy and confused, you try to shake the fog in your mind, rubbing your eyes before looking around your apartment.
and then it hits you. rafe is still in bed with you. and this isn’t your apartment, this is still the camerons house.
his arm is still wrapped around you, his body still beside yours. your heart skips a beat, confusion quickly flooding your chest. this isn’t how it was supposed to go. you were supposed to wake up in your own world, in your own bed. this isn’t real.
another day?
you sit up suddenly, your breath catching in your throat as you check your body, running your hands along your arms, your chest, your legs, feeling for anything that might seem off. but it all feels real. your skin, your muscles, the headache—it’s all real.
your eyes go wide as you look around the room, trying to make sense of what’s happening. the bed, the walls, everything is just as it was last night. rafe is still asleep beside you and your mind races, struggling to grasp the reality of the situation.
you didn’t wake up in the real world. you’re still here.
a/n: HASHTAG L O L (guys i panicked how do u explain the twist that y/n is gonna be in this alternate reality withour sounding corny). post-credits scene ahh ending 😭
#rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#drew#drew starkey#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey concept#drew starkey x you#drew starkey fic#drew starkey blurb#waking up to you#lovelookspretty
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You Know How There Are Those AU? Where SUPER Injured Ghosts Need To Retreat To Their Core?
No one seems to be USING that to its fullest potential! For SHENANIGANS! Because! Who?? Could POSSIBLY carry a Halfa's Core safely... but another Halfa?! A FULL ghost would KILL them. A human would be killed! What terribly precarious peril we find ourselves in! Oh nooooooo!
Well, no worry!
As much as Dani fuckin HATES this. That there is her brother. Her Template. Her Clone Daddy and Bestest of Bros. Like HECK she's gonna let him suffer for centuries and possibly DIE. She can take it, Doc! Pop him in! We'll go road tripping and-
What do you MEAN "No"?
Unstable??! Of course she's unstable! But the-.... Oh.
Turns OUT? Dani? Can hitch a ride in DANNY for Emergency Medical Aid... but NOT the other way around. Her body is too loosely held together. He would parasiticly consume her from within. Instead of feeding off her Ecto System like injured ghosts are supposed too, because she's a CLONE? AND an unstable one at that? His Core would just... see her body as free ectoplasm. All of it.
He'd eat her.
Which mean Frostbite can not and WILL NOT allow that.
But he's HURT! That big, off screen, cataclysmic Fight To Save Everybody From *cough cough mumbles* and settle us all in the DC universe, REALLY messed him up! What are we supposed to DO!? He can't STAY like this!!!
Enter-> My FAVORITE DCxDP Trash Ship! Vlad&Lex!!! *horrified screaming from the crowds, someone shouts "oh god, no! Please!"* Ha! There are no gods here, silly billys! Only two terrible, terrible HIGHLY Dramatic, self serving, incredibly damaged, gay peacocks. In Business Suits that cost more then your house is worth.
They're AWFUL~♡
And! Vlad was sent ahead to lay the ground work. Insure there would be no GIWs. Also because no one could stand him and his EXTENSIVE criminal record. But that's besides the point.
But!
You know what he found? A Business Nemesis. Who he routinely dates and/or Dramatically Hate Fu-*coughs* I mean, attempts a Corporate Take Over(tm) off. You know how it is. Business. He ALSO gets to make it no secret he's a "Meta", thanks to the INCOMPETENCE of one Jack Fenton, because that- *seething rant*
Yet? Dispite his STILL burning hatred for Jack? And his finally letting go of Maddie? You know what he STILL wants?
For Danny to be his Son.
*Gets a call from Frostbite*
...............soooooo........ what you're SAYING is..... I can be pregnant with Daniel.
You, Frostbite, need ME, Vladimir Masters, THE ONLY OTHER HALFA, to carry Daniel around inside my body, in what to all appearances resembles a pregnancy, in order to heal him. Because I am an Older And Stronger Halfa Upon Which He Relies.
:)
*instantly begins plotting*
Just? Imagine. Vlad is a FUCKIN LIAR. No one but him would even KNOW what was going on! He just? Rocks up one day, like? *falsely demure* "oh I couldn't POSSIBLY has any scotch, Lex! >:) I'm eating for Two~☆" and just? Deals the MAXIMUM amount of psychic damage he can.
Probably says it at their weekly, public, Veiled Threats Brunch.
It makes front page news. Luthor choked on his eggs. The paparazzi lost their SHIT. Vlad is doing the FULL Celebrity Mom Thing. The classes. The photo shoots. The Gucci sunglasses as he peruses high end strollers. All while HEAVILY suggesting that not only is "The Baby" Lex's.... but that he's going to withhold the child and deny Lex any access.
Danny isn't even aware. He's in a lovely lil medical coma. Dani is trying to find a good spot to plop down Amity. She just know Vlad is being... Vlad. Meh. He can handle it. Dan? He's not even IN the human realm and is not sure he wants to be.
But over in the LEAGUE? Everything's on fuckin FIRE.
Kon is losing his SHIT and Clark is thousand yard staring into the void. Kon's half brother is in the hands of a... Less Then Ideal... Meta that Batman is PRETTY sure is highly suspect. Might be a deliberate weapons experiment. Certainly is a hostage. And the DRAMA.
Lex has never been worse.
He might actually stab his...partner? Vlad. At the hospital. The SECOND the child is born. There are already long term kidnapping plans in the making. He's hiring lawyers. Getting VICIOUS. There have been talks with DEATHSTROKE. By BOTH OF THEM.
Clark wants to cry.
@hypewinter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @babbling-babull
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60 Seconds
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
Warnings: heavy angst, rape (explicit), being bound and gagged and blindfolded, kidnapping, heavy trauma
Request by anon: Would you write something with Spencer x reader (s7 ish doesn't really matter) where you're taken or kidnapped and when they find you, you keep yelling like 'no, no, don't hurt me' and shit like that cuz you don't realize it's them, and Spencer rushes to you and holds you but you're like trashing and hitting his chest until you break down in sobs pls that would be the cutest help. Also love me some team reactions to it happening skskdks OKAY BYE
Summary: One minute can change everything. A lot can happen in sixty seconds, and your entire world is turned upside down when you’re taken off the street in broad daylight. Spencer and the team fight to save you while you’re fighting to stay alive.
Square Filled: laid on a stretcher for @badthingshappenbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
Everything can change in one minute.
That’s sixty seconds.
You pass by the bank you and Spencer have a joint account with. Three seconds. You see a woman and her child playing with bubbles across the street at the park. One second. You wait for the crosswalk light to turn green. Twenty seconds. You cross the street with a group of people. Ten seconds. You stop at a flower stand and buy two roses, one for Spencer and one for you. Twenty seconds. You turn the corner onto a desolate part of the sidewalk. Two seconds.
A van pulls up next to you and two men reach out and grab you. Six seconds.
One minute.
You’ve heard of stories where people are taken in plain sight and in daylight, but you never think it’ll happen to you. You’ve heard stories of victims being tortured, raped, and abused, but you never think it’ll happen to you. You’ve heard stories about victims needing a lifetime of therapy knowing it won’t fix them, but you never think it’ll happen to you.
Until it does.
Spencer moves about the office with you on his mind, excited to go on a lunch date with you. You’re not part of the BAU but you try to visit as much as you can. You have your own art business that you sell out of your apartment. You like to paint, make vases, and occasionally sew. Business has been booming for the last year so you’re not worried about not finding a “real” job any time soon.
Lunch time comes but you don’t show up, and Spencer thinks you might have gotten lost in a project. That tends to happen a lot, so he calls you to see if you’re going to be free any time soon. You don’t answer.
“Reid, JJ got something for us.”
Spencer puts his phone away and will call you later when he has a minute. Just like that, you’re pushed to the back of his mind. He has victims to save and bad guys to put away.
He just doesn’t realize that the victim this time is you.
The two men who took you were only the delivery boys. The men who have you are much worse. Spencer must be on a case if he hasn’t tried to contact you. Maybe he has. You’re not sure. You’re also not sure how many hours have passed or if it’s the next day. Time stops when all you can think about is pain.
They put a blindfold on you as soon as they stole you from the street so you’re not sure where you are in the world or what the room even looks like. All you know is that it stinks in here like dirt, sweat, and blood.
You’re hanging from the middle of the room by your wrists, your toes barely touching the ground. You’ve been suspended like this for so long that you’ve lost all feeling in your hands due to the rope biting into your wrists and cutting off circulation. If you’re lucky, they’ll fall off.
You’re stripped bare to just your panties. Those men love easy access where they can get it. Cuts adorn your once smooth skin and dried blood cake down your body. If you don’t give them what they want, they get violent. You’re surprised you’re not dead right now. They’ve beaten, raped, and abused your body multiple times in a single day.
You just hope that wherever you are, Spencer comes soon. You’re not sure how much of this you can take.
Spencer comes home after a grueling seven days in the field. All he wants to do is take a hot shower and snuggle in bed with you.
“Y/N? You home?” Spencer turns on the light but you’re not there to greet him like you normally are. “Y/N?”
He walks to the bedroom thinking you’re sleeping but frowns when he sees the bed is perfectly made as if no one has used it in a while. He checks the guest room but you’re not in there either. He takes out his phone and calls you but it goes straight to voicemail. He checks the Life 360 app only to see your phone is located in some ditch on the side of the road.
Now he starts to panic.
“Can’t get enough of this team? You just saw us for a week straight,” JJ jokes when she answers his call.
“Is Y/N with you?”
“No.”
“Have you seen her or talked to her all week?”
“No. What’s going on?”
“I think she’s missing,” he panics.
“Who, calm down, Spencer. Why do you think she’s missing?”
“She’s not home, she hasn’t been answering all week, her phone goes straight to voicemail, and I can see her location is in a ditch somewhere off the side of the road. You don’t think…”
“I don’t think what?”
“Do you think she was taken by the Daylight Killer?”
The Daylight Killer has been on the BAU’s radar for quite some time now. They take innocent women off the street in broad daylight only to return them back to their families after weeks. During those weeks, these women endure harsh psychological and physical torture. The BAU hasn’t been able to capture this man because they don’t think he’s working alone. If anything, it’s an organization that keeps him hidden from the authorities.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Spence.”
“JJ, she always answers her phone. Her biggest fear is me not picking up mine because of our job.”
“I’ll get the team together.”
Spencer immediately heads back to work and meets the team in the briefing room. They already have the victims of the Daylight Killer posted on the bulletin boards despite not having concrete evidence that you’ve been taken by him.
“What do we know?”
“I have already looked at the security cameras around your apartment, this building, and everything in between.” Penelope puts pictures of you on the screen for all to see. “She was last seen walking down Main Street when she stopped at a flower vendor on the corner of Main Street and Dobson Road. She turns the corner and continues to walk toward the BAU.” Penelope puts up three more pictures, one of you walking, another with a car parked right next to you, and the other with you gone. “This car stops next to her and she isn’t seen on any other cameras.”
“Did you get a plate?” Derek asks.
“Only a partial, but the system hasn’t come up with anything yet. You’ll be the first to know.”
“What if it is him? Do you know what he does to his victims?” Spencer asks with tears in his eyes.
“We need to speak to the survivors and see if they can remember their time with him.”
“You want to put them through that pain again?” Emily asks.
“What other choice do we have?” Rossi asks.
It’s safe to say that the victims of the Daylight Killer were less than thrilled to have to relive their experiences. Some of them are still in the hospital recovering from their injuries while others are locked away in their houses too afraid to go outside. There are only two girls who are brave enough to come forward. Confident that if they help the BAU, the men will get caught.
“If you need to stop at any time, please let us know,” JJ says gently.
“Okay,” Stacy, one of the victims, whispers.
“Close your eyes and focus on the sound of my voice.” Stacy does, and she wrings her fingers together nervously. “When you were taken, do you remember what you could feel?”
“You mean besides their hands on me?”
“I can only imagine this is hard for you but don’t focus on them.” Stacy nods and tries to relax. “Focus on the car ride. Was it bumpy? Smooth?”
“Smooth but then it became bumpy like they were driving on rocks or a dirt road.”
“How long were you on that road for?”
“It seemed like hours but probably ten minutes.”
“Then what?”
“They parked and took me out of the car. I was still blindfolded.”
“What was underneath your feet? Rocks? Dirt? Concrete?”
“Sticks. Dirt.”
“So, you were in the woods. What did you smell?”
“Dirt. Nature. It was musty.”
“What did you hear?”
“Insects. However, they stopped once we started walking.”
Spencer leaves the room after hearing enough from Stacy. So, they are keeping their victims in the woods. What woods, is the question.
The best part about you is Spencer. He brings out the best in you and pushes you to do your best in everything you do, especially with your art business. He never goes a day without telling you he loves you, and he shows it with the little things he does. He leaves out little notes for you on the kitchen counter before work, he buys you cookies and other sweets before he comes home, and he gets you flowers every single week.
Even in bed, he’s super loving. Sure, he’s been rough with you a few times but your favorite is how gentle he can be. He can spend hours in bed just worshiping you before giving you his sock. He fits so well inside of you like he was made for you. Even now, you can picture him bending you over and sliding his cock into your pussy. He touches your skin as if he’s mapping every inch of your body. He rarely leaves behind any marks because it reminds him that he can hurt you. He’s seen too much in the field to leave marks on you.
You’re pulled from your dream with Spencer when one of the men slaps your ass hard. His dick feels nothing like Spencer’s. He doesn’t care if he stretches you too much or if he doesn’t fit. He’s still slamming into you from behind and chasing his release. Your entire body aches from the pain but you refuse to give him and the other men the one thing they crave.
You refuse to cry.
You slip back into your dream and replace the man raping you with Spencer who loves you.
“According to the camera’s timestamp, she’s been missing for a week. Do you know what these men do to these women? What are they doing to her right now?” Spencer panics.
“I know it’s hard but you can’t think like that. We’re doing everything we can to try and find her. Right now, we have two women who remember being in the woods which means this unsub or unsubs need privacy. They can’t risk anyone finding them so they have to be isolated. That narrows down a lot of places,” Hotch says.
“They can’t be far either because Virginia PD is always on the scene whenever they release these women. They have to have a place close enough to where they can grab someone and release another in the span of hours.”
“Garcia, anything?”
Penelope pulls up a map of the area and circles the places where it’s likely the unsubs are located. All are in densely forested areas with nothing around them for miles.
“Based on the survivors’ accounts of being in the woods and the fact that they both said they weren't in the car for long once they got onto the dirt road, I estimate that the unsubs are located in one of five places. Every single victim has been released at a gas station before walking into town where there is reception.”
“That’s too many to go to. They could see us coming and leave. How are we going to narrow down this list?”
JJ comes marching into the room with a look of determination and worry on her face.
“We got another woman missing. Melissa Summers was out jogging when she was taken. This time, there were witnesses. They witnessed a ‘dirty white van’ and ‘two men grabbing Melissa off the streets’. They saw a partial plate which matches the one who took Y/N.”
Spencer goes rigid at the news because there are two reasons why they took someone early. They normally keep their victims for two or three weeks before releasing them and grabbing someone new. You’ve been gone for just over a week. Either they changed their minds and let you go early or you’re dead.
Spencer doesn’t have to say anything for everyone to know what he’s thinking.
“Reid, don’t go there,” Derek warns.
“Too late.”
Spencer leaves the room just before he bursts into tears. He can handle being by your side while you heal from their abuse but he can’t handle the thought of you being dead.
You wish that was the case. You wish they had killed you. After a week and a half of abusing your body for their pleasure, they leave you to rot on a dirty mattress with your hands tied behind you, duct tape over your mouth, and a blindfold over your eyes. The door opens but you don’t have enough energy to react. You’ve been saving your energy for when it matters the most.
“What should we do with her?”
They must have another girl if they’re already talking about disposing of you.
“We should just kill her, boss,” another man says. “She doesn’t make it fun. She doesn’t cry or beg like the others.”
“We should just leave her here and move on. She hasn’t seen our faces. She doesn’t look like she’ll talk.”
“Enough. Both of you. I’ll decide what to do with her when I’m done with her.”
The door closes and you’re back to lying in the darkness.
“Okay, so according to her parents, Melissa goes on a run on the same route every night. It’s on Mason Trail located next to a gas station. It’s one of the ones Penelope circled,” JJ says.
“We should go check it out,” Spencer suggests. “What harm will it do? The best case is we find the men responsible. Worst case is she’s not there and we try again. We have to do something.”
“I’m with Reid on this one,” Derek says.
“If we’re wrong and she’s not there, it could ruin everything,” Rossi says.
“You’re both right,” Hotch says. “Let’s go.”
The team, as quietly as they can, make their way to the house deep in the woods located near Mason Trail. It’s not quite night but Hotch keeps the headlights off to prevent anyone from seeing the sleek black cars. Virginia PD is right behind them because, despite the concern about this not being the location, Spencer has a feeling it is.
They park several hundred yards away from the house and finish the rest of the way on foot. If this is the house and someone is home, they won’t take kindly to Derek announcing that the FBI is at their door. Instead, he kicks down the door and just barges in.
There are four men sitting around the table playing poker who all jump up from shock. They reach for their guns but the FBI is quicker. Derek, Rossi, Hotch, and Emily take down the four men while the police search the house to clear the other rooms.
“Where is she?” Spencer asks once they are all in handcuffs.
“Dead.”
“There’s a door to the basement,” one of the officers announces.
Spencer refuses to believe you’re dead. Hotch leaves the unsubs in the care of Virginia PD and follows Spencer down to the basement. Light floods the room and Spencer pauses when he sees Melissa strung up wearing nothing but her panties, and you lying on a dirty mattress in the corner.
Emily and JJ immediately go to Melissa to help her down, and she starts to cry when she realizes she is being saved.
“You’re okay now. They’re not going to hurt you anymore,” JJ soothes.
Spencer runs over to you and unties the rope that binds your wrists. The second you’re free, you find the burst of energy you’ve been saving. You swing at the person who is above you thinking it’s one of the men.
Spencer grabs your wrists and tries to stabilize you but you’re thrashing too much for him to control. Derek comes over and helps Spencer hold you down, and Spencer removes the duct tape from your mouth.
“Y/N--”
“No, let me go!” you beg.
“You got her?”
“Yeah, I got her.”
Spencer lets go of you and Derek has to use his whole body to hold you still even though you’re still trying to get away. Spencer removes your blindfold and you blink rapidly to counteract the brightness of the dim lights. For someone who has had a blindfold on the entire time you’ve been here, the dim lighting it very bright to you. You look around and lock eyes with Derek who is the one who is holding you. You notice JJ and Emily caring for Melissa, and Spencer comes into view in front of you.
Almost immediately, you begin sobbing. You’re free. You’re safe now. You’re not going to hurt anymore. Every single tear you have been holding back is now coming out and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it. Derek lets you go knowing you’re not going to start swinging which allows Spencer to pull you into his arms.
“I’m so sorry, darling. You’re safe now. You’re okay now.”
You bury your face in Spencer’s chest and sob and wail as loud as you can. Spencer can’t stop his tears from falling, and he looks at the rest of the team. JJ and Emily are in tears, Derek is clenching his jaw tightly, Hotch has a stoic look on his face but is breaking down inside, and Rossi has to look away before he cries.
“We need a medic,” Hotch says into his mic.
By the time the ambulance arrives, your sobs have died down to quiet cries. The men are all arrested and put into separate cop cars, and you’re laid onto a stretcher. Melissa is taken to the hospital in another ambulance, and you’re put into the back of the first one.
“Spencer,” you whimper.
“I’m right here.” He climbs into the back and sits next to you. He grabs your hand and runs his thumb across the back of your hand. “I’m right here. You’re safe now.”
“Please don’t leave me,” you cry.
“I’m not. I’m right here. You’re not alone. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
The entire ride to the hospital is you crying over your innocence being destroyed and Spencer trying not to cry.
x
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OMISSION
m reader x julie // 21k words
There’s always going to be that one occurrence in your lifetime. Where, even when all possibilities of it happening just doesn’t seem to line up, still does.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Doomed to regret, or relieved of the fact that you’re given a chance after waiting for who really knows how long, it all arrives in the same fashion. You’re pretty certain that things like these transpire for a reason; and sometimes, the best part about this mystery is what’s to come after.
Truth be told, it’s an unexplainable miracle how Julie still remembers you after all these years.
Okay, that statement itself might be an over exaggeration, and it’s been roughly about five years? Maybe seven? Shit, it might be even eight or more. The game of life doesn’t have time for someone like you to stand idly, dozing off and unbothered like that’s how you want things to be.
Nonetheless, you analogized this to your circle of friends about how you and Julie are like parallel lines: destined to be side by side, never to cross each other's paths to meet in the middle. You’ve convinced yourself long ago there would never be any form of instance crossing past that line of being in love with her, ever. Despite what everyone says otherwise, the teasing never stopped; a recurrence every once in a while with your high school friends (and hey, it’s not your fault that you tense up at the bare mention of her name or see a picture of you and her together from when you were kids and not have a crossing thought of what could’ve been). She’s been the one person who was always there for you, until eventually going away and out of your life before you could even understand what any of that meant in the first place.
It doesn’t matter if it’s the first time you’ve set eyes on her or the last, because a part of you seems to stop in their tracks whenever she’s within line of eyesight.
–
Midday, at the peak of rush hour traffic around the airport, there’s a scramble of newcomers and departing travelers through the doors of the terminal. The sporadic influx of people with one or two hand carries, and various cart goers with enough baggage to stay in the country for more than a projected month.
You pull the corner of your lip when you see a familiar shade of bright ash colored hair, retro shades shielding her face from anyone that might notice at a glance. Her luggage was surprisingly less than what you have expected: a bulky backpack that’s roughly the size of her entire midsection (she could go hiking or backpacking for all you know) and a large suitcase with a duffel bag stacked on top of it.
Julie being Julie, she decided to go the comfort route of her outfit rather than the haute couture style that she always plasters her social media profile with which was a nice change to see considering the amount of sponsors she has at her age. She scans the line of cars with the hazard lights on along the lane, immediately bee-lining for yours while you’re leaning against the side with the engine still running and not with the hazard lights on, just to make it easier for her to spot you.
When she finally stops her footing a few inches before the curb, she lets out this sigh when the handle of her suitcase clicks back in, plopping the duffel bag onto the ground as if she’s making her presence known, you take a quick look around ensuring that she wasn’t trying to make a scene. “Hey,” she calls over. There’s no second thought; you could be fifty feet away and still spot her.
Julie runs a hand through her hair, chin tilted up slightly when you get onto the sidewalk from the street, signifying the clear difference in height. She’s at your neck, and you’re glad that she stayed around there - you know, just to annoy her.
Coming off ever-so casually, “Hey.”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
You lift your eyebrows with one at the highest point you could take on your forehead. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”
A shake of the head, you’re giddy in an instant second.
“Seriously?” She starts, pulling out her set of earbuds and her glasses simultaneously, raising an eyebrow before squinting her eyes closely to your face, and all you’re doing is just letting your head fall a few degrees left to keep her second guessing. “There is no way they let you be my personal chauffeur for today.”
“Well, about that.” you scoff, stepping on the concrete away from the asphalt while also fishing out a folded twenty dollar bill from your pocket. “I was doing some errands for my parents before I got hit with the last minute memo to pick up some girl that’s been too busy with stardom.”
“What’s the adult dollar for?” Julie asks, fighting the smile terribly while you’re matching the same energy. “Are you tipping for yourself?”
A pause forms between the two of you, staring, reading into each other’s expressions. The white noise of cars coming occasionally broken with scattered honks across the place. You kinda look stupid with the twenty dollars in between your fingers, but Julie breaks first by looking down, you’re rolling eyes at how simple it’s been after all this time - easing into her, and she does the same.
She steps forward with swinging arms, capturing you in between them. Julie was always the outgoing one with affection. Growing up, you kinda got sick of her being up all in your space. Now, you’ve come the long way ‘round; her hand lightly grips the back of your neck, you’re shaking her side by side with your arms around her waist, suddenly she’s got a hand to your cheek before she pinches it just to annoy you. One thing for sure: you enjoy the small bubble entrapping you with her, not giving a care for what’s going outside of it.
“Oh my god?” you tell her breathlessly, half drunk on the sweet scent of her hair, pushing her back slightly to get a second look at her, trying to process how much she’s grown. “You- your hair….”
“I know right?” she acknowledges, tilting her head off to the right while hiding away. “Didn’t think that orange would be my color in the first place and now, I own it.”
She looks good, and somehow she’s still the same Julie you remember spending a good chunk of your entire childhood with to know that unchanging fact.
“Long flight?” you ask her, hands on her shoulders with a quick massage. “You know what they say about airport crushes; see them once, and they’re gone the next moment for forever.”
“No one has ever said that.” Julie laughs, flipping some of her hair over the shoulder, her lone hand lightly underneath your forearm, not letting the faintest clutch of your sweater get to you because it will, and it seems that the personal point still stands, but you remember the conversation with her regarding that all those years ago - unsure if the sting is still present or not, you’ll have to ponder sometime later. “Always the one to say complete nonsense to me and expect to understand it,” she closes the distance with you again, a slightly more prolonged hug, relaxing into your embrace again with a sleepy sigh, “But yes, I’m still tired.”
“So much for getting lunch.”
“Oh, we can still get lunch, if you’re paying of course.” She says, pressing both of her index fingers together innocently, dodging your eyes on purpose before you realize what she’s actually doing.
“Typical of you, Julie.”
“What? I’m not doing anything.” She replies, shaking her head. Your peripheral view catches a person wearing a neon yellow vest approaching you two, probably coming over to issue a warning that you’re picking up and not parking. Looking in the same direction, she too, takes the hint, realizing that you’re in a slight time crunch and the reunion can take place somewhere else. “Besides, I was always the one to get you lunch after school when you said that you weren’t hungry.”
“I could just take you straight home,” you say, popping the trunk to put all of her belongings in the back.
“Don’t! I’m kidding, obviously.”
That’s your Julie.
“Unless you don’t let me pick the place to grab something, then I guess you could take me home then, if it isn’t that much work for you.” She remarks while you’re rounding the car from behind, slotting in the gap to open the door for her before she swaps places with you on the outside and her on the opposite side.
Regardless of the absence, she’s hit it off with you again like nothing had ever happened, the habits of goodwill when you’re shielding her head from the roof of the door frame and shutting it when she finally sits in.
It’s like a rerun of old memories coming back. When the whirr of the engine springs to life from the ignition, paired with the dragged out sigh of Julie settling into the passenger seat of your car, leaning the seat all the way back with her feet on the dashboard. She’s also surprised that you kept a few trinkets that she put in the interior, but the main takeaway was the polaroid on the left side of the speedometer. The image wasn’t that big of a deal if you’re looking at the date scribbled with a sharpie, but it’s her lips pressed against your face on the last night before she went away to pursue her own endeavors. As for the gesture itself, Julie laughs it off since the main reason was because she had one too many drinks - which was understandable, to say the least.
(Well, friends have their own ways of showing off their love from a platonic standpoint, so this was just one of those instances; nothing more.)
You and her just talk for what seems like ages, forget with the notion of playing catch-up. She’s only been here for probably less than an hour and half at this point, and you could care less with the traffic on the way to the niche coffee spot where you and Julie have always gone to after school days and study sessions.
She points out to you that everything is pretty much the same since she left it - like she runs the place - and in a way, it felt like that to you for a while. It’s all in the scattered corner stores, the park with those two stationary bikes that she’d ride just because she’s bored, that one avenue of houses that you and her talked about owning one day if the lottery was won between the two of you. All of these things start coming back to you like stills from an old film camera.
“I helped get the house redone with flooring and everything,” you tell her, flicking the blinker up and looping right into the parking lot of the cafe. “Figured that it was time to change some things up around there for once.”
Right when you set the car to park, clicking off the seatbelt and she too does the same; you glance over to the passenger seat while grabbing for your wallet and keys, seeing Julie on her side, head propped up to her hand, a leg tucked to her chest before she nods her head down to let the set of sunglasses fall weirdly on the bridge of her nose, fixing it soon after while softly smiling back. “Anything else that I missed out on that I haven’t heard from the others?”
You look up, pursing your lips together with a hum, trying to give somewhat of a legitimate answer, “Perhaps one thing: me.”
Julie stares at you unimpressed, slightly cringing at what was just said while you’re wearing a dumb grin spread across your face. Her chin dips diagonally, insisting silently that you give her a valid explanation, but you don’t. She knows your fair share of flings and failed talking stages, and she’s not far off the cut too; coming to you for advice about how guys operate because you understood well that some of them only think with their fucking crotch and not their brain most of the time.
She sighs, this time with a light smirk in acceptance. “Fine, I’ll take that to be an acceptable answer.”
Phone and wallet in one hand, the other opening the door, a turn of the head shields you biting your inner lip, mind slowly falling into the delusional thought of filling the gap in your amygdala of what should’ve been done in the first place.
Maybe if you had the chance to go back in a time machine to alter the causes, the outcomes might’ve been in a much different space entirely.
–
Though, it’s worth mentioning that you and Julie have never actually tried dating each other up until she left during junior year. The idea itself wasn’t necessarily tempting, but the lone strings in your heart decided at best that it wouldn’t escalate anything higher than what you already had with her.
–
Sure.
Everything comes natural when it’s with Julie. Out of everyone in your small circle of friends, it was you and her that have been tethered together since you two were basically in diapers. She was born a few days before you; in the same hospital, on the same floor. Your mothers already had a tight-knit connection even prior to you and her even stepping in the picture of their lives. Then there’s the special aspect of being a pair since preschool; nearly all the moments were either you and her not too apart from the other.
You poke a straw through her latte before handing it to her first, only to take the same drink and bring it back around for you to have to take the additional one you bought instead. Everything starts to settle like old times. She’s telling you stories about what she’s doing with her career; nothing short of traveling around the world, giving you the most colorful way of what occurred even if it was the most simplest of things. The brand deals, the collaborations, how she loves what she’s doing. You couldn’t be more proud of her for taking her life by the reins because you and her both agreed that staying here in this town would only hold her back to what she really wants.
“So,” she starts, placing her phone down after showing her pictures of her recent outing somewhere in Poland. “Remind me what you’re doing again?”
She’s sitting across from you on the table, leg over the other, hands linked at the knee. Her drink is almost finished, there’s a half eaten croissant while you’re playing back all of the things that might be worth noting. You look up to see that subtle smirk, a hint of her dimples that you’ve probably fantasized about kissing because they’re just there, her pretty cat-like eyes, low and heavy, and her hair just looks amazing to see since the papaya color really suits her well.
“Well, it’s nothing really worth sharing,” you say, grabbing another sip through the opening of your drink, “This job I got starts in a few weeks, and oh- grad school’s finally done and over with.” Julie nods in excitement, clapping quietly with her fingers while you’re waving a hand up to save the embarrassment. You show her the grad photos and ceremony, and tells you looked good, apologizing for not showing up earlier to be that for your massive accomplishment.
“Anything else that you’re doing to pass time?” she asks, stealing your drink since she finished hers.
“I write a little here and there. No big deal.”
“You do?”
You shrug, “Kinda, sort of struggling with this one story or idea that’s been rattling my brain for the past couple days now.”
Julie does the similar action like she did earlier while getting out of the car; that slight lean back with narrow eyes to subject something suspicious. “Is it the kind of writing that I think it is?”
“Jul, it’s just poems.” you tell her, adjusting your chair closer while she spills a mess of giggles while you snatch back your drink for another sip to keep yourself distracted. “You know that I get lost with reading. It was just that one time that you caught me red-handed.”
“You’re not at fault for hooking me onto that kind of stuff too.” she replies, fingers bridged together to support her chin with her elbows on the table, “I will say, the mind can create the wildest imaginations.”
“Have you noticed what you’re doing with those outfits and dances?”
“Hey, I read those comments every now and then.” Julie takes back your drink to finally finish it, placing the cup off to the side with the half-eaten croissant to open up the table for conversation. “It’s just one way of staying engaged with fans without even interacting with them.”
That’s the kind of line you drew with Julie: being her supporter while she’s coming into her own. Making a name for herself through her own route of success to being famous, garnering attention by the minute with every post that she makes of herself or with others. You find yourself staring at pictures of her in outrageous outfits a little too long at times, watch the parts of her in videos on loop because she’s radiating with happiness, enjoying what she does. Her voice is distinct for you to pick out, and you’re wondering also: what did the world do to deserve an angel like her for just being the way she is?
She was a constant in your life, the couple of minutes you set aside in your schedule to see what she’s up to while in school or work - an out reaching thread you’ll dip down to see where she is or what she’s doing.
Can’t be mad at her for not keeping up with you after all this time anyway.
“Why did you bring me here?” Julie asks, her tone serious with hands now on her lap.
Instead of sugarcoating the inquiry, you’re mature enough to the point where some things are best given flat out the first try rather than scaffolding the truth bit by bit.
–
(It’s a flashpoint in the same spot years ago; the end of one thing, the start of another. Only main difference of this was the seating arrangement: you with your back against the fence and Julie on the opposite end with someone carrying a tray back inside the cafe.
The receipt was already on the table, empty orders of drinks just waiting to be discarded. It’s sundown, and the inside was already packed with various students cramming in bits and pieces of study guides for that history test they’re all convinced that they’ll fail. Not you, because you’re confident in your academic abilities so why lose sleep over it.
“I’m finally going forward with this.” Julie tells you, sitting idly while she just went you through the potential plan of her journey to success. Bottom line still stands: she’s going away, and the news still hits you like a deer caught in headlights. She nudges your shin that makes you snap out from your trance off into the distance, “Are you even listening?”
“I am- I was.” you answer, shaking your head while scratching, because you’re aware of the facts. Julie has been pushing to get herself off with her feet up in the sky, and managed to land a chance to finally make that silly dream of being famous into a reality. It’s been brewing behind the scenes, seeing her pace back and forth between phone calls while having a quick bite before dinner at her place. “So it’s really happening this time.”
“Yes.” She says, as if the news itself already didn’t tear an opening in your heart from the beginning. Any lingering feeling that was there for her was about to be ripped away from you in the next few days, and there’s not a lot of time left either; so why put in effort to even try and convince her when her mind is already made.
“Only a matter of time until you’re finally gone.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“You know how I am with things like these.” you tell her, flatly. “The sentiment coming from me feels wrong, but it's your dream and I don’t want to jeopardize that.”
Julie’s expression softens, meeting your eyes. They’re filled with fading stars while hers are glassy, lip quivering while she reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing the ridges across the wrinkles of your knuckles - how the touch will be an unknown to her, inevitably.
“You’re not hurting me.” she says, smiling, confessing like it’ll give you some comfort to live with. “You never did.”
She knows your wavelength better than anyone else besides your parents. Nodding at her reassurance, you put away the one thing that you should’ve said in hiding, since it’s already too late. You don’t even know when she’ll be back let alone have the expectation for things to be the same later, because it won’t be.
It’s also impossible to satisfy the urge in telling her everything right here and now, put all of your thoughts and feelings on the table with no regrets; it’s there, but you’ve stomached the feeling deep down enough to keep it inside.)
–
“I mean, this is where we left things,” you tell her, bearing a smile, “why not start right where we left off?”
–
What’s talked about throughout years is all recapped in the matter of a few hours. You’ve gone around the town in different spots, talking about the notable events that occurred in each and every one of them. There’s a fill-in between different friends and shakeups of relationships and careers that has Julie in shock at the misdirection through the juicy details that never in a million years she would believe had happened. It’s still going, even when you drop by your home to see your parents and their adopted child (figuratively speaking) for a bit before carrying on with the drive to absolutely nowhere with the switch from your car to your mom’s SUV.
“What’s it about?” Julie asks while you stop at a red light. “Don’t tell me it’s a shitty sob story you’re struggling with.”
A press on the brakes, maybe a little too hard that slightly sends your body and hers jerking forward. And to that she punches your shoulder while you’re laughing. “For calling my story shitty.”
You’re reminded of her rudeness with words - letting out all the profane words that she’s been forced to bottle up for so long, letting it slip here and there for comedic relief. But with you, the rules never really applied to her, and you’ll do a limit test of crossing various things off the list, it’ll happen.
“Still haven’t answered my question.” she reminds you, a pinch to your arm also to let you know that she’s not playing around. You let her get her way, something that you’ve accepted a long time ago. Now with her newfound image, she’ll use that to her advantage that won’t definitely come back to bite her in the ass.
The glow from the excruciatingly long light catches Julie’s face from the corner of your eye. She raises a brow in suspicion when you look forward out into the open road, endless waves of darkness swallowing up the fading street in the distance. “It’s about past lives.”
“What.” she snorts, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
(You wave your hand back at her while she giggles, and you say that maybe staying at your house was a better idea than going back into town.)
“This was exactly what I was talking about,” you tell her, glancing at her side profile, the canvas of her cheeks, her hair in a loose ponytail that she’s twiddling around between her fingers, eyes looking up to the sky above before looking back as an implication to continue. “I found inspiration about this one movie where two friends who’ve been forced apart from each other, only to find their way back in the most cliché way possible.”
“So original.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“Okay, yeah.” Julie lets out a bigger smile, the one where her eyes also mirror the same movement as her lips. “Give me a more indepth version of this when we get to our destination and I’ll reconsider your pitch.”
As soon as she says that, the light finally turns green, and you gradually press down on the gas pedal.
–
Here’s what the general consensus doesn't know about you and Julie; an omission of facts, one might say.
Only a few handful of people among your circle of friends would know of the situation where Julie had convinced you to pose as her fake boyfriend sometime around sophomore year. To be fair, the guy trying to court her during lunch was a bit of an ass when talking to her - being so stuck up and over his own head that made you want to punch the dude, so not even more than five seconds of their interaction was enough for you to shut any sort of speculation down entirely.
Everyone from the outside looking in would all share the same tune: there would be no way in hell that you’d get past the friends aspect with Julie.
(But it did happen; in that short time, and even if it wasn’t actually a real relationship with her- well, that didn’t really matter anyway.)
It’s all over your face. In pictures from different hangouts, videos in school projects, people calling out of you daydreaming during in between classes or breaks, getting in trouble for cutting class just to make sure everything was according to plan (and not because Julie forced you to ditch since you would say yes regardless). Most guys who were gunning to have their chance turned down by Julie would fall back entirely whenever they see you and her walking together - because they somewhat already knew of the endgame about to occur.
As for the memory itself, you faintly recall some sort of verbal agreement with her, things to sell the whole act from both parts: hand-holding, the mandatory dates, and all of the other stuff that was easy to fall into since you and her were so comfortable with each other already. The only issue, however, was the projected timetable of how long this fabricated ‘relationship’ was supposed to last.
“We have everything down,” she tells you, scruffing up the soles of her shoes along the sidewalk one day after a ‘much needed debriefing’ at the park. She’s pulling you by the sleeve - you know, for good practice. “I think we’ll be fine going forward.”
“You didn’t say how long we’re supposed to keep up this act for.” you say, opening the gate to her front yard and up the steps to the door. “The three month rule exists for a reason.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
“It’s an unspoken requirement.” you reply flatly.
Julie bats her eyelids at that, getting on the first step of her porch to make herself taller to you, twists her body mirroring yours with hands on both sides of your collarbones. She lifts your face up, thumbs on your cheeks that could pose as teardrops because of how solemn your expression was, and she smirks at the appearance. “You’re nervous.”
“Nervous?” you ask, face slightly flushed and side-eying her fingers pinching your cheek. “I was just a little hesitant, that’s all.”
“What’s there to be afraid about?” she asks, stepping closer to the edge where it was natural for you to circle your arms around her waist. Deliberate, but every action with her was just right without having to question yourself if you’re doing what she wants you to do. “I helped you with all of the things that I wanted you to do with me in this relationship.”
You sigh, “Not all things.”
Julie looks at you puzzled, head cocked to the side at the unknown mentioned. Knowing her, she’s quick enough to realize what was being implied without having to say it explicitly. Few seconds pass, humming, trying to let those nerve synapses do their work before eventually realizing what was running through your mind. “Ah,” she says, nodding along to your level of thinking. “If you wanted me to say that, then you should’ve.”
“What were you thinking?”
“You’re a terrible kisser.”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” you tease, scanning Julie’s eyes, her pert smile, the subtle lip bite you catch at the last second before hiding the lower half of her face with the oversized sleeve of the sweater.
It was the last thing that was necessary to do. You’re thinking of the test drive of that from the other day, how you just gave a weak peck of a kiss only to poorly play it off as being ‘not ready’. Julie assures you that it was okay, and you tried it again.
(The second time was a lot better. And, uh, it still needs more, hm-)
“If we really want to make this work,” you tell Julie, fingers clasped together behind the small of her back, gravitating her closer to your chest. Her hands are slithering around the back of your head and neck, “Best to have it done properly. No mistakes.”
Julie nods in agreement, reminded that she was the one who roped you in to do all of this for her. This facade could have some sort of meaning when it’s over, but for the moment you could see on her face that she was relieved. “Right, if you want the part, you have to own it.”
Her head dips down to yours, sealing the deal with a kiss, smiling at the improvement when you return it fantastically well. She pulls away with half-lidded eyes, and maybe this lip lock was the first of many, time can only share so much.
“Alright then,” she whispers against your lips, brushing against yours delicately, “that was a whole lot better.”
–
Aside from selling the act from nearly all of your friends, you kept it to yourself that this ‘relationship’ with Julie should’ve been real from the start. Though, you can’t even blame yourself for the idiot you’d become whenever Julie’s steamrolling into your personal space in between classes. If anything, even if they knew the thing was real or fake, they all took the hint of backing off to give you two the respected space whether it was intended to be actually authentic or not.
Even if you wanted to be discreet - which, more often than not, was the complete opposite - it did feel like they were invading your guys’s privacy if it was in the halls, in front of the door for her next class or yours, or even at parties to which everyone spread word that you couldn’t stand being a few seconds away from Julie - keeping yourself in close proximity unless she said otherwise.
(Like you’ve admitted; you’re an idiot for letting yourself be this way for Julie. You can't really help yourself when she’s so forward with wrapping arms all over, keeping herself magnetized with you before her going away was even in the picture. Laughing about silly things that others from the outside could never really comprehend what you and Julie talk about. Having conversations with her was incredibly easy; that, and along the hands on hands or hands on legs or arm on shoulder. Then there’s the loving gaze you’d give her - staring shamelessly and blatantly doing it with no problem at all as if it was the last few seconds you’d ever have, and it would be everything.
So. The ‘act.’)
Sometimes you’d completely forget the whole purpose as to why you’re even doing this thing with her in the first place, since it felt so natural. It’s typical for a high school romance, kissing with a reason behind it or without having one at all.
You’d do it to punctuate something, convince her to consider otherwise, lower your eyes and tilt your head, slot your lips with hers. If you were with anyone else besides her in this scenario; it would have the same effect, but wouldn’t hit your heart as hard as you wanted to. Julie would stare at you, nodding, understanding, having known that this cosmic binding was meant to stay that could transcend time itself - linking pinkies together, as an extension of your hearts being hitched together.
When she finally called the verbal agreement of the fake relationship off, you were certain that things would still stay the same between you two; which it did, of course, but she was open about the loving intentions you had for her, regardless if there was a label to it.
(You and her would hide away from others after that, still, just because the company with each other was better compared to your friends - no disrespect to them, of course. And all of those times of doing that - well, you made it known how you really felt about Julie without saying it. The kissing was there as a plus, remember?)
–
The point still stands: you remember all of it. You expected Julie to be the same; hoping to shield the feeling of her leaving with every intent as possible until the clock would eventually reach zero. It was never a part of the conversation, but the weight hung heavy even if you or her mentioned was coming to pass.
You’ve learned to drop such expectations - much like taking things with a very small grain of salt, because any solid assumption would only lead to thoughts that would only crumble you from the inside out. The more blanks you have, the better.
Delusion might be one thing, blindly falling in love was a shot in the dark to your own admission, but that silly idea of ‘she fell first, he fell harder?’; come to think of it, it might��ve been put in writing long ago and it all circles back without any single warning at all.
This is what people realize about Julie, and you were the first person to know of this: she always breaks through other’s expectations.
She’s an ever changing current of some form that could only be described as groundbreaking. Pushing boundaries of standards to new horizons. A highlight that was destined to shine brighter given the right tools and exposure to let her do that one simple thing that she’s good at, being herself.
Miles ahead of everyone, never wanting to look back. And there’s you, falling slightly behind from her, on purpose - because watching her take on the world was something that you could handle for as long as you lived in the same space with her. Distant, but not far. The small thread of imaginary rope in your head clinching onto the fact that she’ll see you for you, and maybe the labels could all be sorted out in due time.
“And here we were,” she begins, arms out to the sides like gliding on air. She’s in your varsity jacket, in trade for the unfinished ice cream in your left hand, nursing it for yourself while she’s elevating herself on planters or benches; anything to bring joy with the simple things no matter how silly it was. “Feels so good to finally be home for a quick minute.”
It’s a little bit late, the light posts are on, wind gusting through the small park where you’ve shared countless memories when you and Julie were kids. Everything around the place is timeless, only replaced with a few renovations scattered here and there around the area, but still the same. She’s alongside the railing, the other side a calm river housing scattered sounds of crickets and cicadas.
On the opposite end, was your mom’s SUV with the back parked in. Some fine luck that they made a space to be near that big old tree with enough branches and leaves to serve as shade when the sun hits the highest point in the sky. Despite the darkness, you liked it compared to the daytime, whereas Julie was the inverse.
“Does anyone know?” You stop short when she turns around, hands pocketed in that lent jacket. “You, being here. On vacation if this was your plan for a while now.”
“Well yeah,” she responds, approaching closer with her mouth open while you spoon feed her another bite of butterscotch from the small cup, pulling lips inward to clean any remains of the desert. “Sure, I could’ve gone anywhere else to have time off, but I chose to come here. Decided that it would be a good thing to come and see everyone after so long.”
You nod at that, admiring the reason. Hiding that small tug in your heart that should be small enough to not notice.
Julie knows you better than yourself sometimes, and she can see from your eyes that you’re trying to go beyond what's being said.
She steps forward, because she can, and you’re not against that. This is where she thrived back then: doing everything to make you uncomfortable. And yeah, it was very simple for her to do back then in high school; the little gesture she does with her shoulders and scrunching face to let you know that she’s won. Putting up with her antics was one thing, but it was nothing that you can’t handle - practicing all of the little tricks and quirks to perfection in the hopes of holding your own if it ever happened again, just like now.
“Look at you,” you chuckle, “always on some form of borrowed time.”
She steps closer, hand out to guide yours with the empty cup of ice cream, setting it on the stone adjacent from you two.
You’re not sure who’s really in control of who in this current moment. All of this was led on from the continuation of bouncing stories between your work life and hers, the details of people in your corporate circle commensurating a string of complaints and drama that you’re not all invested in, but kept an open pair of ears for them just out of the goodness of your solid gold heart. Julie also spills her fair share of things that she’s done, telling all with that maddening grin of hers, the way her cheeks elevate at the pull of her lips, how her eyes draw this curve that hides the irises while you could see the gums beyond her teeth. The low glow of the light post casts this in bronze, the timeless features you’ve seen countless times, in all of its glory.
“Do you remember,” she prompts, closing the distance once more with her chest slightly puffed up, shoulders rounded back and relaxed, hands still in the pockets of your jacket she’s borrowing. “About that time where we posed as a fake couple back in high school?”
“All because you couldn’t take the fact that everyone wanted you back then?”
“Maybe say it a little better than that,” Julie muses, nudging your elbow to keep on teasing, “You’re within the ballpark, however.”
“Right.”
Julie smirks, mixing a noise between a soft laugh and sigh, looking up dutifully with those doe eyes. “God,” she says, studying your stoic expression, “even now, you’re still the same after all we did.”
This might be a double-edged sword of words, a back-handed compliment if you’re going to dissect the linguistic skeleton. That old rhyme of ‘stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me’, has never been more true than now. You remain unfazed, smirking, staring. The wind suddenly picks up where it sweeps Julie’s stray strands of hair in front of her face.
You can’t help but giggle at the way she leans down with a small squeal, hands covering the top of her head to prevent any mess caused by the natural course of nature. Helping her stand up straight, your fingertips sweep those tousled strands, smoothening them to eventually make it look more presentable, not giving any care with how your hands are cupping her face.
Her question pops up in your head again: about how all of this seems familiar. Feeling the small pull of tension in the air when you gaze into her eyes again - filled with a longing that was tucked away, radiating with sparkles that shouldn’t even look real, but they are. You’re trying to think, and yet, “Maybe. You could be right. And you being here with me like this tells me exactly everything that I need to know.”
“Really.” Julie coos, dimples deepening, “Would you like to elaborate on this?”
“I think you can explain that a whole lot better than me.”
She nods her head, raising a hint of suspicion with an eyebrow, “You think?”
“I know,” you respond. Guilty as charged, she played you this entire time, and somewhere along the lines of accepting it the best way, “Well, you know too.”
Thousands of miles apart, decimating that to the single digits, now being mere inches apart - closing in like before; and maybe you were just falling into an old habit the way you pull her face towards yours. Something like this takes practice, could honestly come off as a natural action at this moment: you kissing her, like it was meant to happen. You could never forget all the times she made you feel like this. Only difference is, she’s slipping through the cracks along with you.
Julie tugs herself closer to you, trying to mend her body into yours; becoming one. She’s ballooning more into the press of your lips before shying away, shrinking, hands moving from your elbows straight up to the nape of your neck. One of your hands snake to the smallest point of her back, holding her curving spine steady, not letting up the exchange of her intoxicating air passing through your mouth and nose - it only has you feening for more.
And she hums this sound, low and deep, firing impulses within you that will take nearly every bit of brainpower left to resist.
“Juls,” you murmur softly, pulling away for a slight second, feeling the clutch of her hands around the fabric of your sweater-
All of that attention is zeroed in on this transcendent sound that she makes, sealing it with your lips again, all needy and deprived and in desperate want that would literally kill you on the spot. She’s willing to take you away, devour every bit because she will, and you’d be okay with that.
“You have–” she gasps, “no idea.” Dear Lord, she’s breaking by the instant - pulling herself back with your fingers tangled in her hair. The moonlight towering over illuminates this glow on her skin, basking in it while you’re giving her this same look of endearment that you’ve had for most of your life. You might be deserving of it, she could say otherwise; maybe it’s one of fate’s tricks blessing you for once.
“You do remember.” Playing into Julie’s mind game, falling into the sinking temptation that she’s unknowingly doing over you. It feels tense, but at the same time it doesn’t. “And here I was beginning to wonder if you’d forget everything–”
“Trust me,” she tells you, hand ghosting over the length of your collarbone while yours reels her small body closer. By the neck, she pulls you to close the distance. “My memory is just as good as yours.”
(Oh, and it’s how you’re reminded again and again: at how Julie is one half of your brain - a perfect compliment to you for so many years. No one even comes close, and some have tried; they could never get you like she does.)
“I want you,” Julie’s soft voice twists your ears right back. “Fuck, I’m only gonna say this one more time: I need you.”
You probably don’t recall the number of things you dreamed of hearing, but this might be one of them. It’s not a question or an answer, nor a quote said intrusively. If anything, this was the green light you’ve been waiting for; there’s just only one thing left to do then.
–
Forgetting Julie was always going to be an impossibility.
When a girl like her has her face in literally everywhere that you could imagine: in photoshoots, brand events, social media engagements; the magic of being famous really transforms one’s landscape if they can break the threshold - which she has, and in one way or another - she could never hide away from the bright lights.
Except at a time like this, you’re glad the darkness envelops both of you.
“Mmph.”
Your vision is focusing in blanks, searching for something, fixated on the silhouette of your hand floating over Julie’s head, slowly bobbing down along your length, lips wrapped tight around your cock and her tongue sweeping the grooves along the underside; the ligaments at the knees are way past the possible bending point where you could take them, hips forward while this girl is laid flat on her stomach with the trunk open, and you’re also thinking: who in the actual fuck would be out walking this late in the night to see this form of public indecency? She stops halfway, shakes her head side-to-side, coaxing the head on both sides of her inner cheeks, humming with every intent of praise at how good your cock tastes in her mouth.
“Fuck,” you rasp, letting your head fall slack backwards, smoothening Julie’s silky hair when she pulls back up, teeth grazing the tip that has you let out a pathetic groan. “You’re so good at that.”
“Mmmmh.”
The pop she makes off the head is sinister, and you’re already imagining the smile she has spread across her lips, swiping her tongue across to make them more wet than it already is. She’s giving you a hard time to think straight, and you’re still blown away with how forward she was into blowing you, not wanting to waste a minute before you and her could even make it back to the house.
“How are you holding up?” She asks innocently, seeing the hint of her honey amber eyes dart at you while her wrist is giving a wandering tug up the length, tensing up every fiber in your lower back to keep it there.
“Do you really want me to give you an answer?” And Julie chuckles at the flex of your thigh when she runs her fingernails over it.
Julie then gets back right to work, enveloping your cock into that sweltering heat of her mouth, coaxing it in all the ways you’ve fantasized before - grunting and exhaling spells of air when she dives down deep, deeper, massaging the head with her slick throat - all the way before putting a ring with her thumb and index finger at the base, practically purring at the constant rhythm she’s doing on you, to get you undone.
Your stomach does this funny little twitch, like a punch to the gut once her hand finally gets to dance along the shaft, stroking along the slick surface while her mouth services a fresh supply of wetness swirling all over. She hums in approval when you take matters into your own hands, wrapping two fingers across the bottom of your cock while she’s happily bobbing her head along the length, picking up a consistent rhythm of spit and dribbles coming out of her mouth, pushing you towards that breaking point, sliding her plump lips across the tip before swirling back in, hollowed cheeks, your eyes slightly rolling back, vision swimming, hunting for a way to stay conscious.
And the only subjective thing you’re inclined to do, not like there’s any other option for anything else, is to just let her have it. You’ll cum for her, all over her pretty face, and have her slip your cock back into her mouth to make you cum again in a few minutes flat. She knows that it feels good for you, there’s no doubt about it; how you can see her eyes with the occasional glow of your phone going off to break light, glaring at you with every intent of swallowing you.
“Paint my face baby.” Julie whispers. It’s not a proposition, she wants it to be set in existence, “your cock is so pent up for me, all you have to do is just let go.”
“Christ-”
That’s what pretty much sets you off.
Your shaft is molten around your hand, cockhead pressed agasint Julie’s perfect lips, hips jolting in quick pulses; you also might’ve heard your kneecaps crack a bit in the dead silence, three thick threads of cum landing on the curves of her cheeks, hearing her hum in content. Her mouth opens to let the next few shots of release settle into their new warm home, head wrapped around that opening, riding out the last bits of sensation as you’re draining everything all over her face and in her mouth. The overhanging light for the trunk switches on with what remains of your spent energy, catching that smug grin when she’s resting your cock on her cheek, parting lips open with a small dribble of cum leaking from the slit still, to which she licks with her tongue on the underside while having her eyes still trained on you. She’s all blissed out, irises focusing and unfocusing - almost cross-eyed; and just like before, you’re captured around her little spell once again.
A few seconds later and she’s wiping the damage from her face, licking it up from her fingers - fondly taking in the sweetness of your cum on her tongue while feeling out her jaw again, trying to internalize the feeling of your dick filling her slutty little mouth. She won’t forget it, and neither will you.
“You taste good,” she mumbles after getting up on her knees, ducking slightly so that her head doesn’t hit the roof of the car, “y’know, if that wasn’t already obvious enough.”
“Decorum, Julie.” You tell her, straightening your legs out for what felt like an eternity. “Thanks,” you follow up, “I do try my best with my own things.”
Julie lets out a snort, wiping her lips with any lasting remains of her drool mixed with your cum, “Jackass. Always so stuck up for being an ass.”
“You just said ass in the same sentence twice,” you comment, propping yourself on elbows to where Julie leans down across the width of your chest, towering over you.
She leans lower while your head bumps the backseat, face nearly centimeters away from yours, hearing and feeling the needy breath against your lips when your hand skates up her waist, teasing with a fingertip before you lightly clutch her back, allowing her to fall down and kiss you.
She’s not far away from you now, but instead right here in your arms. This is progress; good progress and maybe even better. You can barely see the hickeys along the column of her throat in the darkness - something that you’ll revisit to make her revel in the feeling of your mouth over them, a get back of sorts in trade for giving what she wants.
“I hate how you’re such a smartass.” Juile tells you while pulling away. But hey, at least she’s saying that with a smile.
–
The whole town gets slapped with inclement weather throughout the week.
And yeah, you’re pretty much giving your phone screen or laptop or even the television that no one really uses around the house a dirty look when you see the consistent set of numbers with the picture of a few clouds mixed with rain at the bottom of them. Though, it doesn’t really make sense for it to rain when the weather was nice for once up till now. The percentages of rainfall were particularly high, especially around this time of year which typically means: hey man, it would be best to just stay inside, maybe catch up on some of those books you’ve been putting off for quite a while because of school. You could also use this ample time to finally get that story also, get some words in while the thoughts are fresh, or something like that. A third option would be calling Julie, since as it turns out, her parents are gone - which also means she’s home alone, and whatever you do with that piece of information is entirely up to you. So what’s it gonna be? Besides, you still need answers as to what your current dilemma is with her relationship-wise, and ignoring the fact that she feels the same way should be ringing alarms in your head as it is.
You could curse your mom or bless her, because she gave you a favor to do by going to her house to drop a few things off.
One worrying drive later in the wet darkness, and a well managed job to beat the unrelenting rain before it got worse, you’re at her doorstep knocking. The steady thrums of the droplets hitting the roof before the knob clicks and the hinges creak open. She lets you in with no hesitation, patting your wet hair while you’re tending your soaked jacket to the coat hanger.
“Didn’t your mom say that it was a good idea to wait until this storm lets up?” Julie asks, walking ahead to the living room while carrying one of two bags that you brought over, contents being various snacks and clothes that you were willing to give to her since you hardly ever wore them. “Thanks for bringing my favorites for me,” she beams happily, “I haven't had these in a long while.”
“Managed to get them a day before today,” you tell her, trailing along her pathing where the space in the house opens up more. “I thought the forecast said less than 40% of rain would come.”
“You still believe in what they say on the news?”
“Not all the time, but it’s good to stay informed.”
Julie steps away into the kitchen while you plop down on the couch, leaning your head back on the cushion while the sound of plastic rustling fills your ears. Few moments later, she comes back with a sizable bowl of pretzels, placing it on the table before she goes and gets two bottles of water; which you scoff at first but appreciate the simplicity of maintaining a healthy diet.
You and her pick up right where you left off. Talking about anything and everything that was worth it in terms of interesting topics. The television has one of those random sitcoms provided on the streaming service after trying to search for one for about five minutes or so, feeding each other occasionally while trying to hold in laughs while staring at each other.
“How long have you had that color?” Gesturing with a head pat to yourself while Julie downs the lasting remnants of what’s in her cup. She gives you this gaze with the clack of the glass on the table, leveling her gaze with you - the low glow from the tv serving as the prominent source of light, catching the smallest sweep of her hair right at the ends, tilting her head to match yours in curiosity.
“For about a month. And honestly,” she breathes, “I was pretty skeptical about choosing this color in the first place,” she adds, pulling her knees closer to her chest, “but I guess you could say that I was convinced to try it out.”
You purse your lips, reaching over the the near empty bowl of crackers while Julie is holding in a laugh, offering the other half to her with an outreaching hand - to which she leans over with an open mouth, happily receiving the remains on her mouth while you’re alternating glances from the screen to her.
“By the way, my parents actually just went out to visit my grandparents,” she adds, realizing that shere was a missing set of keys from the pot where you set yours past the front door; not to mention the two vacant spots on the shoe rack where they would usually be. “So I guess it’s just us alone here if the storm doesn’t let up.”
And by some comedic timing, you get a text on your phone. Basically it just says from your mom to stay over at Julie’s for the night, after getting news of the road being unsafe to drive with the rain as the cause of one or two accidents already.
(You might consider yourself lucky; but what good would that serve since you’ve already put yourself miles ahead of the competition in getting with Julie?)
“If this is some form of good news,” you tell her, showing the message bubble from the phone screen, to which she unleashes this gummy smile, understanding by that cosmic connection you two have built together that doesn’t really need a logical explanation. “I think you’re in good company for tonight at least.”
Julie then leans forward. No- she launches herself at you while you and her were sitting along the bottom of the couch, playing along by letting her weight collapse on top. You pay no attention to how her arms hook around your neck, but you do focus on the press of her lips to your cheek; it’s honestly worth sharing a laugh at her nestling into the groove along your neck and collarbone, patting her back to let her know that you’re also happy with staying.
There’s this odd silence, to where she pulls away. You could also hear the faint sound of whatever sitcom was on the screen to provide a calm ambience. It’s appalling to how beautiful she looks without any makeup on, hand mindlessly clutching onto her oversized sweater to where she tenses up on impulse - almost unsure at first, only to grab your wrist soon after.
“I’ve been wondering,” she prompts, face upright while you press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, “how come you and I never made anything official between us?”
“What do you mean?” you blindly ask. “I thought I made myself obvious enough about how I feel about you.”
“You were,” she responds, inching her body closer towards yours. “Though, it hasn’t crossed my mind before recently, when we–”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You’re not weirded out about it?”
Anything that you say from this point on would only solidify your case. You’ve always wanted the idea of Juile being all to yourself, despite her being big enough for everyone else to get a wanting chance at her too. This realization came to you on a random day, probably, when you’re just going along with your day before you suddenly dropped whatever you were doing - staring off into the distance because at the end of it: you’ve fucked yourself head over heels for her from the start.
“I wanted-” your words get caught up behind the tongue while Juile’s fingers are branching out to your shirt.
“You sound unsure about something.” Her voice is laced with mischief, teasing.
“-to talk about last time, and even if we do bring it up, you know- us,” you add with a raised hand with hers, “I just hope that it’s not a one time thing.”
“It’s not.” she tells you, face pouting with scrunched brows. “You worry too much sometimes, even back in high school, you were always like that.”
She’s not wrong, but also, she’s right for calling you out.
“I could just leave right now if it makes you feel better.” You start to stand up from the floor, only to be stopped by Julie’s tighter grip on your hand, causing you to freeze for a moment.
“I’m just glad,” her shoulders rise and fall with the pressure mounted on top of them finally lifted from whatever was plaguing her, “That after all this time: you still stayed for me.”
It’s just like that other time, and you’re catching her train of thought faster than the words can come out of her mouth. This wasn’t something to think twice about - if you don’t take the second golden chance fallen at your lap, it’ll be a lasting regret filling the back of your mind once she goes back to the world that she created for herself.
“You know.” She tells you, with that endearing grin of hers, filled with so much of everything that has you fractured from within, because she doesn't need to say anything else. “You know all too well for me anyway.”
A hesitating shuffle of your butt across the hardwood, you’re scooching closer to her, lowering eyelids, hand trailed to the nape of Julie’s neck until you and her make ends meet. In an instant, she’s suddenly reformed into this being of wanting, need, someone who will let you have their way over them.
She pulls away panting, you give her another kiss to the jaw. “Funny, how the tables have turned.” You tell her, twisting your head to the opposite end before she meets your lips again - this time a little more hectic, hands grasping along the fabric of your shirt, almost peeling it off at the first go.
“C’mon now,” says Juile, hand underneath to your stomach before trailing down to the waistband of your pants, “Don’t make me change my mind like last time.”
–
Here’s a silly thing: upon arriving, Julie suggested that it would be a good idea for you to sleep in her room (and in this case, it has happened before; way too many times to be exact, gossiping about nonsense or cramming material at the last minute the night before a big test. Another funny memory to recall.) She teases that it’s nothing for you to be worried about, and it's not like you were going anywhere else for tonight.
Instead, you insisted on using the guest room that she has, but here’s the funny part; you and her don’t actually make it back up to her bedroom anyway.
The harmony of a laugh she lets out when you slip your shirt off of your frame, catching her staring for a few seconds too long - biting her lip and some of her index finger, she can’t help but be in awe. A new, fit, and refined look that replaces the scrawny and nimble image that you somewhat hated for the longest time - towering over her on the cushions of the couch, helping her slide out of that oversized shirt to see a white sports bra - sweatpants soon after with a matching set. You’re nicking your head to the side in disbelief, eyes overloaded with the image straight out of your fantasies - only this time now to be all too real.
“Holy shit,” you breathe, unable to blink while you get a hand on her hips, off to the right where there’s a small tattoo - an anchor, grazing your thumb over to see if that was also another secret she kept from you (from everyone, for that matter) - there’s also her impossibly slim waist, her luscious thighs, the definite line down the middle where her abs are at. This could be another win in your year of success, and then again, no one else but you gets to see her like this.
“Got something to say?” Julie asks, smirking with her head slightly tilted back, up on elbows, “They do say that girls are breathtakingly beautiful wearing white.”
A click of your tongue, not willing to argue with that take, because she’s right. It’s within the lines of superiority, giving someone the respect that they deserve. She could have it, but she also likes it when you don’t even think of giving her that kind of luxury. “My mouth has a lot more things to say than just words,” you tell her, the pair of hands sliding up to the tight elastic resting underneath her breasts.
“Care to share what you’ll do to me?”
You get rid of that annoying sports bra, for starters - hands filling up with the supple size of her breasts, fast to wrap around her upper back while you’re peppering the new territory with kisses all over, her head falling back even more to open up and let you ravage and mark and the tens of other things that you’ll get your chance on, eventually.
She’s heaving with shaky breaths, not wanting your lips to leave her body the more you indulge in her perfect skin. Nails are quick to dig into your back, slightly, and it’ll just add on from there. The levels of touching, holding, kissing, and the anticipatory downright fucking you’ll give her soon enough-
“Am I on the right track for you so far?” you ask, quick to get your lips on hers while she’s shrinking into a whimpering mess into the couch.
Julie has managed her good graces for so long now, and you’ve played the waiting game. No matter how long it took, it might be a gamble with your feelings for not being able to move on - it was possible then, but as of this moment, you already made your decision.
“You’re the fucking worst,” she pants, a loosely planted hand that slides off when there’s the press of your thigh against her clothed pussy, feeling her legs sandwich you in between to prolong the wanting feeling. “I’ve been wanting- waiting for so long.”
“Really now?” you say, voice filled with heat when you help her slide out of her sporty bottoms, finally cutting the last line of caution tape. A quick look down - and her cunt is there, in all of its glory - slightly glistening at the lips and primed for what’s to come. You’re surprised at how wet she is, even more surprised when she grabs your wrist to get your fingers alongside her aching slit; a small hiss of air passing through her teeth inward while you're spreading her little by little. “We’re a little ahead here aren’t we?”
“Fuck- please,” Julie spits out, eyes scrunching shut while you press a finger in to asses, and she’s practically liquid down there. She’s acting completely different from earlier - failing terribly to keep composure - but she’s just as infectious as she always is. “You don’t think I know the amount of times you’ve yanked one out while thinking of me? Believe me, I know.”
“I didn’t say anything about it.” you reply, thumb lightly pressing against her clit while your middle finger curls a bit inside her, feeling her hips shoot upward off the cushion. You’re also doing everything in resisting the urge in the growing bulge in your pants, to ignore how badly it’s throbbing for you to snap and get yourself acting exactly how she wants to fuck till one of you goes dumb; cock drunk or pussy drunk, it’ll end in those one or two ways. “But it’s true: I want you also.”
Julie just mewls at your fingers, clenching around them, that forces a soft chuckle out of you. This was the first time that she’s losing her patience, and you’re going to milk the hell out of this moment for as long as you can.
“Don’t be-” she’s rambling with an open mouth, blinking fast, “Don’t be a bitch. Everyone knows that I wanted you for so fucking long.”
Well what do ya know? She would be the one to cut the wire and jump on the grenade between the both of you in confessing. There are very little things kept secret with her, some things you might’ve forgotten along the way, but you’ll keep this in your mind for as long as you live.
“Yeah,” you sigh, pressing your lips together while you slide your fingers out of her, the squelching sound vile for your ears to register. Hands are quick to meet her hips, scooching closer with a pull, to where her ass meets the top of your thighs. “Yeah.”
“Need it,” she pleads, “Need your cock inside of me.”
You’ve managed to get your sweats off in record time, pressing her legs up to where her heels are facing the ceiling. These feelings from embers that were supposed to die out years ago, but they never did, and this dirty act serves as a testament of everything you’ll put out on the table - for her. It’ll be shown in her swollen lips, the trail of hickeys scattered across her body, down to the crimson marks from your hands holding on for too long. Consider this a long shot in a stroke of luck - because no one will know her like you do.
And when you’re doing this steady approach of rubbing the head of your cock, against her aching cunt, waiting to be filled - you don’t even think twice about it at all. There’s this relief, washing over; almost in reverence to being dipped in holy water through the baptism ritual, feeling her walls slide all over the length of your cock. There’s also this shared ache, the mirrored rise of both your chest and shoulders. Once the ache finally subsides, you just stay inside her for a second.
“You–” and albeit you’re at a loss of words also; Julie’s face writhes, grasping for both of your hands secured past the middle, keeping her in place. The limitless amount of things that you’ll get your way in: mouth fast to her neck? You’ll do it. Pin her against the armrest of the couch with her ass up, or maybe have her do the work in bouncing back, and she will. Managing your cock fully inside her tight hole was good to settle with for now, “This fucking cunt, Juls–”
She sucks her stomach in, mouth now slackened, the utterances and noises that she unleashes would never hold up in an interview if they gave her the opportunity to speak her mind as she pleases. But she’s not caught up in the city and it’s stars; instead, she’s with you, on her couch, in her house, taking your- “Baby,” it’s really sweet how she keeps up with the pet name, “fuck, fuck, fuck- I can’t with your- your cock is - that’s so deep, holy fucking shit-”
You’re pretty much slightly drunk at how well she wraps around your cock, crying without fail. The octaves rising up with every hit back in, and she’s absolutely knocked. It won’t stop with the wash of rain hitting the window panes, feeling the rising heat between you two grow gradually larger, fixated on the extremely tight vice she has over you, and you’ll take that as a gift.
“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” your voice drags lowly, upping the ante the more you carve your cock into her, the tight hotness becoming more and more addicting by the minute. Julie was always an advocate for showing confidence in her looks, and it shows: in her pictures, the way she flaunts around that has everyone’s jaws dropped to the floor, all angles and good sides of her - behind closed doors, you’ll make sure that no one will see this version of her.
(And in a way, you do get it, you’ve understood the script written in your head now that you finally have the feelings fully reciprocated, and claiming this girl as yours would only be the start of it.)
When you’ve finally pushed her over, screaming, that’s the only cue you’ll ever need to keep breaking her.
“Please, please, please-”
“Tell me all about it, hm?”
Julie grins with her eyes squinting barely open, gasping out some form of a declaration.
“You’re, fuck- fuck me,” the air between you clashes with the contrast of warmth from the bodies - the coolness of the air conditioning filling the room, only for it to be backdrafted. Her flawless face is amazing to look at, leaning up for you to dip down and kiss her, hands still fast to her hips, her back arches with a slight lean back, trying to keep the motion going with every stroke and grind and touch you have over her. She’s getting close, you can feel it in the addicting clench, and you’re almost at your wit’s end.
“Needed me for so long, hmm?” you ask, smiling against the hot surface of her porcelain features, “then cum baby, all over this dick. I know you want to.”
She mumbles, something close to a string of ‘yeses’, and her whole body trembles.
It’s filthy, gross, impure, sloppy, pushing deep; angling past the trench to a euphoric feeling that she’ll only demand from you. The way that your hips slap against the bottom of her thighs, grasping her hips and across the supple skin the more you fuck through her orgasm. In some way, this was your get back for what she did to you in the back of the SUV that night, needing little to no words to punctuate the lovely sounds of her hitching breaths with every stroke back into her wet, tight cunt. Her grip on your wrists goes deathly, clenching you the same way her pussy does on your cock, and she’s still stuttering - the whimpers and whines the only serviceable words she can only speak while you groan in slamming her deeper into the couch.
There’s really no room for a margin of error, every drive back into her only gets you closer to that edge, and while she’s reduced to nothing less but a piliant puddle of mush from the head down, you unbury yourself, fist wrapped around the length of your shaft when you finally release your hot, sticky load all over the fine canvas of her midriff. Covering her - over her chest and waist, all fucked out silly and just laid out to immerse in the ropes of cum spread out across, soaking her.
“You- you,” Julie sputters out, while you have a hand off to the left side of her head, barely supporting yourself with what little energy left in not toppling over her nimble body. “Oh my god. Oh my god?”
You’re still riding on that high, finally letting your body go slack when you meet her lips again. She moans in content, how her tongue clashes against yours, trying to power its way through into your mouth. Pulling on the bottom of her swollen lip, just to be a tease, “Julie,” you mumble, breath grazing against her cheek, smiling. That same lip wobbles a bit, an implication that she’s still processing what just happened, aside from the shaky breaths and unfocused eyes. “Baby.”
A lazy smile brightens up her whole image. Her eyes are fluttered shut, but her lips and the faintest tip of her ears tell a different tale entirely. It’s the same smile you fell in love with since seeing it the first time, it never gets old.
“I love it when you say ‘baby’,” she starts with a soft tone, gentle, tender. “You have no idea how bad my head spins when you say those things to me.”
Through the small pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the window panes and the roof tiles, you think to yourself at how this moment should never end. The present moment like now will be ingrained into your brain for as long as you’ll move on with living. “I think.” you say with a whisper, laying your body over her - kissing her cheeks, her forehead, feeling her hands slide up the well defined muscles on your back. She tries to hide away, putting her head off to the side, and you’ll get the top of her neck too. Anything for her to finally have you, it’ll be a fair transaction. “I do.”
“Tell me more?”
“I’m just glad you didn’t forget about the many things that I’ve already put myself out for you.” you tell her, and she nods in agreement. The interlink between you two has never been stronger than ever, and this moment will just solidify it.
–
You’re scouring through the fridge and cupboards for something substantial to satisfy your spontaneous midnight cravings. There’s actually a load of different options; a wide variety of chips and snacks in the pantry. In terms of drinks, not much for you to work with - and a glass of water or milk would be good enough to take since it wouldn’t be much longer until you’ll eventually fall asleep.
Unless you're Julie, who’s standing next to you in the kitchen while you’re assessing her foods (still naked along with you, by the way), licking off some of your cum off her stomach slowly, a stray finger trailing up your waist since some of it did get on you as well.
It also doesn’t help how she’s sucking on her fingers shamelessly - hollowing her cheeks, pursing her lips, sticking out her tongue that will only put your head in a downward spiral. She’s massively fucked for doing that, with those cat-like eyes she has - but dude, you’re still staring at her.
“Can you like-” you nick your head off to the side, diverting your attention away from her to lock on the same open bag of half-full pretzels she put in the bowl when you first came in, deciding to settle with that but pulling it out onto the edge of the counter. “Do you really have to do that in front of me?”
“Doing what?” she asks you innocently, almost stupidly. She’s wetting her bottom lip, and man is she evil for doing that continuously. “It’s not my fault that you came so much. My pussy is just that amazing for you.”
Oh, fuck her. Seriously.
She’s back to her chirpy, bubbly vibe with that tone in her voice, the witty remarks also came back in full force. Your brain is probably in overload mode with how she’s blinking sweetly, smiling all knowingly like she usually does. It’s a longshot that you’ll draw this up to be a one-time thing, let alone be a golden chance done by your work single-handedly. Within these walls and as long as she’s with you, everything about it just feels right in its place.
“You’re such an asshole,” you breathe, closing the door to the fridge with a quarter-full bottle of orange juice, Julie getting ahead with two empty glasses ready on the counter. Everything that she does even if it’s the simplest of tasks is undeniably attractive for some reason; no matter if it’s her on the balls of her feet, reaching the cupboard or walking past you with the sway in her hips, one thing does settle back into your mind: she’s here, and that’s pretty much all that matters at this point. “I should give you a napkin to wipe off the stains on your abs.”
“Or I could just keep on licking it off while you pour me a glass.” She muses, tilting her head up while you kiss the crown of her head, pulling a few lazy strands of hair to the side, “Why did it take us forever to finally do that? I mean, and here I thought that you would be a little more underwhelming with your moves in bed.”
“You mean the couch, Juls. C’mon. Let me remind you that you’re the one who went and kissed me first.”
“And the things that you said about dreaming to fuck me actually came true,” she laughs, lightly clinking the rim of her glass with yours before sharing a nice, homey drink together. “All of those jokes about you and the guys wanting a chance with me, well guess what, you’re the winning contestant that blew away the competition.”
Side-eyeing her, you press your back to the fridge, she’s standing on the opposite end, legs crossed together - mirroring your posture, she’ll match whatever energy you give her, knowing that you’ll always do the same. This could be some silly pairing of toothbrush to toothpaste, and despite the difference in lifestyles, how your lines of successes came at different times, it seems that the parallel line you drew between you and her long ago finally reached a crossroads, which is a good thing, of course.
“The girls also said the same thing,” she tells you, “about how out of everyone in our circle of friends, it was somehow going to end up with us being together.”
You take that with a grain of salt, unsure if what she was saying was true or not. But she knows that she’s right; you took the realization first before she did - since she’s usually stubborn in some cases and won’t listen until it finally hits her, but it took her long enough. All of those rumors back in school and the whole skit of you posing with her may be a tipping point, but after putting yourself through that with her, a part in your head was always confident that she’d see what you’re seeing.
“Maybe they saw it first before you did,” you say, pulling her by the arm and into your space, feeling her arms circle around your waist while you’re rubbing her shoulder. “I’ve always been like this.”
“You got there first,” she replies coyly, tilting your head down for another meaningful kiss, “Blame me for being oblivious.”
–
Turns out that Julie’s parents came back to the house first thing in the morning. Well, they’re pretty relieved that you came over and stayed the night even with the weather going absolutely crazy over the past few hours, telling you about how one of the old trees came down blocking the road and cutting off access in some areas of the town. They didn’t bother to ask about the obvious marks spread across her neck and yours, and the bite mark on your wrist was also a small concern to be worried slightly - uh, you’ll talk to the girl regarding that later.
As for the present situation in terms of appearance while breakfast was made, you’re wearing one of her shirts that was blindly pulled from the closet before instantly passing out soon after. In all honesty, Julie liked how cute you looked with that stupid Hello Kitty graphic across your chest, but it was still a good laugh.
“She could’ve given me one of your shirts,” you tell her dad, passing a plate with half a stack of pancakes soaked in syrup, “Though, my clothes were already drenched from the rain and all.”
“I would’ve been fine with it,” her dad says, “Would’ve been better to get you changed out and not keep you in your own clothes for the night.”
“He knows that I steal from your closet as it is. He’s also crazy if I was gonna have him walking around the palace in one of your shirts, dad.” Julie butts in, bumping your shoulder while her parents are drinking in the sight of their daughter getting along so well with you like it’s old times. They’ve treated you as if you were one of their own, and it goes the same way whenever Julie stays over at your place. Even as kids, staying over and waiting for the other to pick you or her up was always the usual gig. Julie’s parents saw you as someone who is very easygoing, only to be chained to their daughter till the point where separating you two was a stupid decision. You could also assume that they even talked to her about the whole relationship stuff, and they’d be supportive of it, and marriage wouldn’t even be an issue to get around with.
“Will you be busy this summer?” Julie’s mom asks, breaking all the stories from past years in the kitchen. “You finished school and everything, right?”
“I did,” you answer, feeling Juile’s arm on your shoulder, pulling your head towards hers to wipe off a small patch of syrup stuck on your bottom lip with her finger. “Not supposed to start my new job for another few weeks or so.”
Julie’s mom hums in excitement, “Look at you, all grown up and getting your life together in the real world. Like your parents, we’re also proud of you too. Julie especially.”
You gawk at Julie comically, earning a side-eye from her before she playfully slaps your shoulder in retaliation. Both of her parents let out another laugh while you’re veering your face away from her hands. She puts a leg on top of yours on the seat, subconsciously palming it while feeding you another piece of pancake from your plate. “I really appreciate you guys, and I don’t think I could ever express that enough.”
“And you have already.” Julie agrees, openly kissing your cheek while you’re internally breaking down for a slight second soon after. That assumption about her parents being super supportive if you and her finally made it official - well, that was most certainly the case when the both of them nod in approval towards you and her.
“Your parents love me, and we most definitely love you.” Julie says, and you’ve never been more reassured or comfortable about anything in your life.
–
Everything falls into the same sense of normalcy like it was before. Some days you’re spending your time at her place, and on other days she’s over at your place. And in between those days where it’s just you and her together, it’s replaced with the sporadic rotation of hangouts with old friends and colleagues who got wind that Julie’s now a mainstay (just for the summer, in case you forgot).
Some of your friends also tell you and Julie about their insights about the same stories, all while sharing a few bites of appetizers and circling drinks until one of you guys play the silly idea of putting all your credit cards on the table for the waiter to pick a lucky winner at random to pay for the whole meal.
Not long after, the small party migrates from the restaurant to one of your friend’s houses, where the drinks seem to keep on coming it feels like - being a bit buzzed on the couch while your eardrums are pounding from the somewhat acceptable cover of whatever song they blindly picked from the song book. You’re a little out of it, but still conscious enough to have another sip of water as the viable substitute, words loosely slurred but still discernible to be fine with.
That is, until Juile is heaving out on your arm, leaning over away from the couch, laughing about some funny memory that happened back in high school - it’s also worth mentioning: she’s drunk, and also a lightweight. You could also look back at the apparent irony that she wouldn’t go all out with the alcohol before entering the restaurant, but here she is - completely lost in the plot at this kickback.
“You’re gonna throw up if you lean forward like that.” you tell her, holding her up by the shoulders to correct her posture, some hair is also in her face and you part it off to the side with the instinctual thumb rub on her cheek.
“Did you tell everyone here that you and I finally fucked?” she slurrily spits out, causing everyone in the group within the close proximity of the couch to be in a collective state of shock, though, that’s quickly dissipated with you confirming everyone’s suspicions - despite not being fazed or fully surprised.
(Before anyone else asks, you’re telling the group. Yes, we also made it official after God knows how long. Are you happy now?)
–
Later, she’s back in your room for one night, maybe two.
The whole place is riddled with waves of nostalgia, Julie’s additional presence opening up the sweet wound that never really hurted you in the first place; if anything, it makes the nocturne appearance of the moonlight breaking through your blinds and into the space where you’d want to keep things just the way they were. It’s in the trinkets and collectibles; the multitude of shirts you’ll let her steal (which she already has), a trophy that she broke on accident, and the wilted corsage for when you took her to do anti-prom activities for fun when she gave you the news about moving away from you and this town. The small recap on film running through your head is short-lived, kind of like the roll burning up when there’s nothing left - much of a story unfinished. You and her could recount all of the things that make your room yours, and you wouldn’t mind wasting time talking about the many different kinds of nonsense with her.
“I’ve been wondering,” she tells you, “actually, more than just wondering.”
She’s straddled across your lap, fingers dancing along the back of your head - your hands and eyes are wandering all over, from the visible window of her cropped shirt, helplessly holding onto her on her sides, the gradual curve from the rise of her ass, hiking to the spots where you’ll bruise her skin and–
“I’m sorry,” you’re left breathless and laughing a good amount when you look down at her sweatpants, “since when were you so bold with hiking up the ends of your lacy panties for me to notice?”
Julie presses her tongue to the inside of her cheek, knitting one brow closer to the bridge of her nose, hands neatly rested across your traps while she’s snickering at you keeping your eyes stuck to her body - letting your fingers trail up and underneath her cropped shirt, realizing that she didn’t have a bra underneath to begin with. She reads into your next move when your hands stop at her sides, crossing hers over and slipping the shirt, tossing it in some corner of the room where you’ll look for it later, taking in the valley of her breasts and the nice size when you get your thumb and finger beneath them.
“You’re getting off topic.” She says to you with a click of her tongue, calculated, knowing that there were more pressing measures to be discussed rather than have you shamelessly lusting and drooling all over her pleasantly enticing skin. “Answer the question, dickhead.”
“Language.” you chuckle, leaning your neck up for a pitiful kiss - to which she accepts.
It’s awfully quiet around your side of the neighborhood. The only things that break the silence in every few moments or so is the distant beep of the smoke detector downstairs; that, and probably the occasional pass by of a car down the street.
She asks you the question bouncing around her mind, but you pay no attention since you’re leaving chaste kisses across her chest.
“Hm?” you have the audacity to hum, causing Juile to flip some of her hair forward - a flash of her ego at best; and another thing about it, you’re so into that. “Must’ve missed the question again. Wha–”
“You really didn’t have anything serious going on while I was away?” Julie’s implying about any kind of special connection, whilst being very indifferent in the way that she speaks. “Not even good fuck that’s worthy of swiping your v-card?”
“Okay, then explain how good the experience was when you were doing it with me.” you reply, touch of the fingertips nestling on the outer edge of her back - sliding lower, more forward when you give the faintest pull to bring her closer to you chest. “I’d love to hear all the details about it, actually.”
“You just want me to say that you’re a good fuck for me.”
“In more ways than one, yes.”
Her arms make way, coiling around your neck - tauting themselves gently when you slip the lace at her hips between your fingers. Pulling them down a bit, just to test something, an attempt at best to make her open up all the neat perks and merits of what will entail later. No need to get more depth in the details, you already have most (if not all) of it memorized about her. She’s leaking out the bedroom eyes in the blackness of your small room, and it’ll reel you in whether you’re sensible to resist them or not.
“If this feeds your ego,” she tells you, singing the sentence along her tongue and to your ears, “you’re right, and I won’t bother to argue.”
Like you could ever complain to her or vice versa, Juile knows that her own pride will come tumbling down at the cost of you - as you’re electrifying her with every passing touch, sliding the pants and underwear off of her while giving her no chance to recover with a tit in your mouth.
A pop off the nipple, and she’s running a hand through her hair, trying to keep herself focused, and failing. “Want me to prove myself to you again?”
She presses her lips to yours, hard. A clash of the tongue and pull of your neck for more leverage, rut her hips across yours to test the friction - that growing heat from within her core, a singularity that many others would die to feel let alone hear the lovely sounds coming out of her mouth.
“Please,” murmurs Julie, smiling against the bottom of your chin, the grip on her ass tweaks tighter. You’re already imagining the red marks that would defile that creamy, holy skin.
“Try me,” she husks, “you’ve pretty much earned it.”
–
(Julie has never been more right about you. The way she puts up all of these walls and red tape; basically begging you to rip right through them, and you do. She’s flustered and left in broken pants the first time you make her cum, screaming and trembling by the second, and you have her a sobbing mess by the third time ‘round, coming undone by your cock. When you slide out of her well-worked pussy, her eyes roll back and up - raw, undone, satisfied - a move up to licking you clean with a swipe of the underside, a kiss to the tip that keeps you hypnotized for a few seconds, and she wants you to keep this in mind.
“Have I proven a point?” you ask her in full content, hand fastened to the headboard of your bed while you’re straddling her chest, happily wrapping her pretty lips around the head of your cock. “You looked like you enjoyed it a lot.”
She curls her back in and out when you finally shift and collapse next to her, a lazy kiss to your neck, humming sleepily as if she gave up in keeping it hidden from the rest of the world. “I did,” she whispers ‘round the cuff of your ear, kindly admitting it along your skin. “You’re everything I wanted bundled up all into one.”)
–
The implication still stands: Julie was never meant to stay rooted to this town.
She altered her own destiny into becoming a well known individual (since the term ‘famous’ wasn’t too appealing to put it, according to her). She’s sharing all of these different experiences, events, the interactions with people she would have never thought of meeting in her life let alone be in the same space as them. You’re sharing a buttload of things from your end of the scope, how some things stayed the way they are, for the most part. And it’s something that crosses your mind–
“I never really said to you directly about how proud I am of you,” you tell her, happily swinging your right leg around on the swingset outside your guys' favorite cafe. “I’ve told your parents countless times whenever I would see them, but-“
She has her leg over yours, shoulder meshed with her head leaned over - in one of your hats doing its job well enough to keep her appearance concealed; a bit pointless when literally everyone around the town could recognize her with ease.
“They told me,” she reassures, fiddling along the plastic bit of the string from your hoodie, pursing her lips out with a crease of the eyebrows. “You couldn’t keep in touch with me, but they could, and maybe I could’ve squeezed you in along with them - all you had to do was just ask.”
Her lips quirk when she makes eye contact with you, rolling them over and right when she scrunches her nose, knowing well at how much you could put up with her antics.
“That would’ve made things a whole lot easier, but hey,” she laughs, admitting stupidity where it stands, “What matters to me is that you finally had the chance to tell, despite everything.”
Well, I’m proud of you. You’re saying it again, this time straight to her face and not playing as the messenger. I was with you every step of the way, and now we’ve both made it to where we want to be, and maybe more.
You’re pulling a piece of hair over the cuff of her ear, she melts at the touch of your palm. Julie then leans in eyes pulling to a close, then the abrupt call of your name on the intercom signifies that the order was ready; letting out a short laugh while a parting slap to her thigh separates you two for just a few moments.
One quick tip later of a few cents, and she looks up with those oversized rims of her glasses, smiling sweetly once you hand her the same latte she always orders during schedules and events. She’s sipping it instantly while you’re moving her leg up back to where it was before; nodding along at how good the drink tasted.
She appears distant, pondering about something - zoning out to the distance while she slowly learns back against your shoulder. You’re looking out also, letting the eyes wander for anything in the cool early hours of the morning.
“Do you resent me? For leaving you? This town, our friends, and everything behind?” she suddenly stops drinking to ask.
Blinking, you’re trying to find something substantial for an answer. “Well…”
“Be honest.” she says enthusiastically. “I want nothing but the truth.”
It takes only a few moments to consider, and you’re always honest with yourself when it comes to talking to Juile. She always wanted to understand your side on certain things: opinions on important matters, what kinds of clothes look good on her and what doesn’t, even the stances on who matches with who and the possible compatibility between the two that isn’t you or her. You lick your lips, tilt the drink in your hand but just enough to not where it’ll spill.
“I’ve already told you what I thought about everything that day,” you say, placing the drink on the bench to prevent from letting the wetness from the cup soak to your fingers. “It hasn’t changed. And it never will. Me being with you since the beginning should already say enough.”
“Ah, you’re right,” she breathes, pouting her lips slightly because you could easily tell that she’s managed to let that slip from her mind, and you don’t blame her for that. She continues to ramble on about all of these regrets that seem to unravel and fall out - her cool breaking down once the realizations set in of the countless sacrifices she had to make. “How silly of me, overlooking that day.”
A shake of her head only brings the disappointment to the front faster, and she keeps drinking up her latte. You catch the smallest hint of a twinkle in her eyes, the middle part of the plastic top hitting the edge of her nose once finished with the beverage. Instinctually pressing your lips to her cheek as reassurance, she smiles at that, letting you take her empty cup to toss a few steps away from the bench.
Coming back, she’s on her phone, smiling her heart away at something that she’s proud of for sure; you can’t help at how cute she looks when she’s all geeked out - emitting more confidence that you could only dream of matching.You’ll get a chance of that with her help, or not; either way, if she’s happy, you’re happy.
“I was out in Europe for a shoot before our break,” she lets you in on her project, “The concept is very niche for all of us, and I’m very happy we pushed forward with this. Consider it as an insider look as appreciation for the way you’ve been treating me.”
She’s showing you a quick slideshow of Julie in an extremely wicked bikini top, a roll of green wrapped around her middle in a poor attempt of a ribbon around her body. Then there’s the short video of her on the stationary bike, and then the actual choreography. It’s leaving you in shock, so there’s really only one way of reacting. “I- holy shit. Julie, the–”
You’re watching how exciting it is for her to show these things to you, it’s adorable. She lets you in about all of the logistics, music, overall approach to how they wanted this thing to be received. The drive, passion, how everyone played a part into making this work; you understand that level of thinking entirely. “Right? This was exactly what I was talking about.” she’s tapping along your arm, “I can easily tell which part is your favorite already.”
“Not even gonna say it.”
“You should because it’s me.”
“Fucking christ,” you mutter, swiping her phone to get a closer look. She leans closer with a mischievous giggle at the thumb replaying the clips over and over again. “Hate it, someone like you should never be this hot.”
“But I am.” she replies, placing both of her legs across yours. “That’s the fucked up thing, isn’t it.”
“It’s also amazingly fucked up how good you are at twerking.”
“Didn’t come from practice baby, it’s all natural.”
You’re left gaping at her, shocked even. Julie’s eye smile is the only thing you see while she's covering up her face in embarrassment, wondering if the current judgment you’re giving her will stick for the foreseeable future.
It’ll throw you for a loop, but it’s still hot.
“I might have to rethink my life choices from here on out.” you tell her, staring up at the ceiling with a smile while she playfully punches your shoulder out of annoyance.
–
A beat later, you’re staring at the ceiling.
More specifically, the ceiling in your room, barely holding it together when you look up at the sight of Julie’s backside, cock vanishing in between in that glorious canyon of her ass, bouncing up and out with the pitches in her moans go further up the gradual scale.
“Fucking hell,” you hiss, hands resting along her calves while she slams her hips down, lightly thrusting yours up to meet her in the middle. The pressure already hot around your length, murmuring some words of praise that fall toward nearly inconceivable to understand. She sits up, and you’re hypnotized by the way she raises her hair up to reveal more of her surprisingly toned back, peeking over her shoulder, while your head just plops back to the pillow behind.
“You like that,” she murmurs, rocking her hips in a forward-backward motion along the stiff line of your cock, “oh- you love when you get to have my ass like this for you.”
“God-,” you huff out, pathetically, vision blackening to a fine point. “Holy shit- I could never get tired of this pussy, ‘feels so damn good.”
She falters forward, letting most of her lower body do the work, spreading her thighs out more for your hands to come to grips with. Flipping some of her hair back, while reversing her ass at the angle where you feel all of her, you’re worried if your dick will stay in one piece by the end of it.
“Just sit there like a good boy and relax,” Julie tells you, with a firm determination above the creaks of the bedframe, “don’t even do anything.” When she grinds down, deep, to where you’re thrusting your hips upward to hit her favorite spot, she coos at how you failed to put up with her instructions. “Look at you, not even listening to what I’m saying, shame on you.”
“Don’t really care,” you offer - an admission of guilt would be a better way of describing it, “You always get what you want anyway, so it’s my turn.”
You could feel the smile from across her lips, happily taking the opportunity to fuck herself over your cock choking her all the way down to the hilt. The slick sounds coming away from your groin and hers is a lovey track you’ll never get tired of hearing, and she adores the sounds coming out of you as well, it’s unholy, slamming back down with the sweetest whines projecting from her mouth.
She shimmy’s her hands up your thighs, sitting upright, letting you rest inside her warm hold for just a second while she catches her breath. Then, with a move of one leg, and the other to follow, she’s on the opposite side, caressing your head while your fingers are quick to get her hips moving again, amazed when you slide up in her, quivering thighs and a shaky breath to get you softly laughing.
The slaps of her hips on yours get louder for a few moments; admittedly, you kinda just let yourself go because her cunt should not be this easy to spread apart. In addition to that, her mouth hovers next to your ear, mumbling words or something remotely close to a verbal sound while you’re fixated on the clench her walls have over you.
The vision only fades out more, then the hearing also goes:
“Pill.” she tells you. That singular word entails a thing. One thing, and probably the testaments that will come after - if you’re ready for it, but let’s face the facts: for someone like her and the industry that she’s affiliated in, no one is ever really ready, but you’ll be in on it if she’s the first on board.
You’re not letting up your pace anytime soon, grabbing a handful of her ass, and bringing her back down to Earth. “Juls, you–”
“I want your cum.” she simply says, “just yours.”
It’s also not worth putting up a fight for much longer when she cums first; the gritty groan that has you sighing in tandem. She’s powering through with her lips on yours, wanting your body to completely crumble underneath her, fucking past your threshold - a kiss to the corner of your lip, in the most menacing action she could do to you, well pleased and–
“You’re so- fuck, filling me up was also one of your dreams, wasn’t it?”
Hey, in all fairness, let her have this one on you. If it means having her breasts all over your tongue or her nails gripping the nape of your neck, you’ll be adamant in not letting her go.
–
Your mind gets in this gray area. Things might be in a constant loop in terms of activities, or maybe you’re dialing it back from the hammering heatwave the other day. It’s not that, just the foggy morning on a lazy Sunday.
You’re taking slow steps across the hardwood floorboards in your house, glass of water in your hand. There weren't any plans for you and Julie for today, so the second best option which was the logical one was to stay inside, despite doing that for four out of the seven days last week. There’s also this quiet appreciation you have when the ominous setting of the house is in complete darkness, with the light fog serving as the present light source when you reach back to your room upstairs.
Upon returning, the visible spot of where you slept, and Julie adjacent to the right, still knocked out. It’s very calming, you realize, how peaceful she looks while sleeping, the gentle rise and fall of her chest underneath the sheets. The small tousle of her hair is spread out across the pillow, with her left arm and leg in the same position as it was when you were in bed with her before waking up.
Mindful of what she mentioned about her sleep schedule being all over the place at times, you decide to admire her bare face when you’re thumbing her cheek.
She twists a bit at the touch, the subtle stretch of her body underneath, shaking off the slumber little by little. The comforter resting along her neck shifts down, revealing the apparent lines of hickeys across the column of her neck - a favorite preference of yours that you’re carefully examining while she slowly flutters her eyelids open.
A look up, and you’re leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Figured I’d let you sleep in for a bit longer, but it looks like you don’t want to.”
Julie pulls a lazy smile, shifting her body slightly deeper into the cushiony confines of the bed, not wanting to move. “Do I want to know when we both passed out last night?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“It’s also not like we’re gonna do anything today. I mean, it’s been hot for most of the week. And, we only got lucky with the rainfall around here.” She finally decides to sit up a bit, pull some of the sheets over her body for a little more coverage. Your parents are out early again seeing relatives, an advantage in this current scenario: just you and me alone? Where you’ll fuck me again and again until the screams bounce off the walls and the neighbors will come over to complain for the hundredth time-
“You’re right. We don’t have anything planned for the time being,” you tell her, another helpless kiss to give that sends your brain giddy signals because your gorgeous lover and best friend for years is making you act like a freaking kid once more - not that you’d complain about it.
“Aside from watching that series you found, I’d rather just stay inside for today.” Julie suggests, scooching closer to you on the edge of the bed. “Cook us something for breakfast.”
That will happen, eventually, but you’re too busy working your lips all over Julie’s face. Tip your forehead in, get a kiss to her temple, then her cheeks, a stray one next to her nose, the end of her nose, her jaw. She’s too smitten with the private displays of affection, gratefully accepting it with an arm thrown over the shoulder, lightly laughing a crinkled nose with her face brightening.
It’s moments like these, away from the attention of others, behind closed doors, where the cameras and die-hard fans of Julie’s persona don’t typically have the golden chance to see, they’d envy to be in your place - as the one person out of everyone in her life to have this side of her. She tells you that fame itself is a weird paradox to get sucked in by, and in a way she’s absolutely right. You know from the get-go that Julie is one of the most beautiful, soft-spoken, and well respected individuals you have ever had the blessing of knowing.
“Anyone ever told you how amazing you look?” you ask her, her squinted eyes losing all seriousness when you laugh.
The look of adoration you have on her bare, sleepy face. It’s a sight that you don’t want others to cherish other than yourself.
“I’d rather just stay in this room and stare at you if I could.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing already?” she asks, biting her lip while you’re tilting your head from right to left, mimicking her doe eyes that she rejects with a hand soon after, for now.
You bite your lip, let out a tsk, and something snaps in your head for one second. Lips are fast to the line of her neck, hand slithering to her back, laying her back down on the bed gently. Julie tenses up for a moment, then lets her body go slack, allowing you to leave no nook or crevice untouched with the feeling of your tongue.
“Breakfast?” she asks.
“Not now,” you answer, kissing the pulse point right beneath her jaw, soothing with a soft bite of your teeth, “Just indulging.”
“I see.”
She murmurs and squeaks once you let your hands join the party. Kneading and massaging her breasts while you shift yourself down to the line of her collarbone, inhaling the leftover aroma of sex from the previous night. Her hand’s quick to the back of your head, tugging hair while you let your right hand jump down to her hip. A move of the sheets, to open things up, and your mouth shifts in between the cleavage, getting lower.
Julie putting legs together was a futile effort, sliding along her luscious thighs while your tongue streamed down her abs. The grip of her fingers got a little tighter, closer to desperate.
“Enjoying your fun?”
“Very.”
Your eyes lock on to that tattoo that hugs above the hard bone of her hip. It's a simple design: an anchor. The meaning of it is something that she never got around to explaining, feeling the ink across the pad of your thumb before smothering it in a string of kisses, to where she laughs at the silly feeling. Your hands curve up her waist, while your head is at her belly, descending down even more to where you're hovering right above the designated area you’ve set your sights on.
A check of the clock in a quick glance, and it reads nine-thirty. There’s definitely some extra time to waste before starting the day.
Juile lets in a sharp inhale when you get yourself comfortable, arms underneath her legs, parting them. She sees the glint in your eyes when you’ve finally started to bring the trail of kisses from her inner thigh upwards, anticipating for what’s to come. You can tell that her vision is getting hazy, a cross-eyed gaze that only pushes you to absolutely ruin her, and hold your end of the deal.
“Have I ever told you,” you start, a teasing kiss to her folds, “how amazing your body is?”
“I don’t think you’ve told me explicitly, but showed in other ways.” she replies, propping herself up with an elbow and a heel down to your spine.
That’s your Julie.
You press her down, from the waist, a harsh suck on the clit, and get the first few samples of her addicting slick down your mouth. She sucks in her gut right underneath your fingers, and you hum in approval.
Pulling away, licking your upper lip, and some of her bed hair gets in front of her face, heaving. “And by the way,” you tell her, “I”m getting you back with the whipped cream this time.”
She nods, knowing well that it’s pointless for her to fight the foreshadowed climaxing sounds coming out of her mouth with the back of her hand.
–
Julie brings out a side of you that only seems to really bloom fully when she’s around. It’s something that never really gets acknowledged, let alone be brought up in moments where you’re truly at your most vulnerable state - the side where all of these hardships and struggles in being a good person, blinded by perfection, all seem to wash away from the touch of her hands and lips, combined with the reassuring words of encouragement.
That said side truly blossoms when you genuinely feel the intimacy above what the mind wants you to think. Aside from all the hand-holding, arms linked, stolen kisses while waiting at the red lights, sharing bites of the same food order, tearing away skin in little nips, the sex itself escalated a lot more than just sheer lust taking over both of you. It’s above than just the regular conventional fucking.
So you bring it back to where you and her unpacked all of the bottled up feelings:
On the couch, but this time at your place rather than hers. By literal unpacking, when you sink your cock inside, the relief of her walls clamping down around you, moaning out alternating expletives and your name, letting her body go limp as you increase the pace, pounding her senseless, have the raw urge to just get rough and pin her down in this spot where she’s supposed to be. You’ll want to be locked away with just her for no one else to see, to have her all to yourself; it’ll be selfish of you, but she’d agree where your head is leveled.
“It’s not even all that special- ah-” she blurts out while you have your hands cuffed to the back of her shoulders, leaning in to place a languid kiss across the fine column of her neck. You’re fucking out all the sounds and whines out of her, bottoming out every drive in, her legs rest just above your backside ankles stacked - your mind is already frizzled out, and so is hers, pulling ever fiber inside your muscles and bones into getting her astonishingly destroyed, “it’s just- your cock is- fuck- fucking perfect.”
She’d want you to be gentle sometimes, but when it’s rough? Oh man, you’ll let the actions speak louder than your fucking words.
“In through your nose, Juile,” you whisper with a bump to her forehead, holding her down at the waist while your hips aim tried and true, into the hottest spot deep in her cunt where you can reach, “That’s it baby, there we go. Just be pretty for me, like this. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Ugh,” she huffs, letting her eyelids drop finally when you’ve made her reach that euphoric sensation first, gasping when she feels a hand wrap lightly around the jaw, forcing her mouth open, a few broken sounds get let out, panting. Her back arches while you slip your other arm under, and manage to drive your cockhead even deeper - it's a new feeling of bliss that has you in disbelief. “More, please-”
She is so- so slick around your cock. A dam of an orgasm within you and her just waiting to finally break. You keep the motion going: pull your hips out, and drive back in. Pull your hips a bit further out the second time, and the snap of your thighs hitting has her crying. It’s mind numbing; you’ve lost your composure with her the first time fucking your feelings out to her, and it’ll be like this for as long as you’re together. She could ruin you like right now - in the next day, week, month; hell, for the foreseeable future. The notion in itself is already devastating to think while this girl beneath you is shuddering, as you’re pounding her ruthlessly, pulling her hips back to yours, coaxing her worked pussy well past the brink to the point where you’re hearing your own heartbeat thumping in between your ears.
“You’re so good…” she croons, lifting her head up bareilly to kiss you, get a few nails dragging along your back, let the pain soothe the filthy fuck you’re giving her. “Please, just– like that, god, fuck me, more, more-”
“Shh.”
Some things in life are better left unsaid.
“I want to be yours before I go.” she whimpers, sounding off depressingly - like she’s unwilling to cope with the fact of leaving you. Her eyes are glassy, begging almost - like this was the one fear she’s afraid to live out when the time comes.
The sobs mix in with the slaps. She’s reduced to much less than a puddle, all worn out and exhausted, reaching out in desperation, keeping you close. You and her are so flushed, the stifling warmth could make you sick.
“Baby,” you breathe, a fast and tender kiss to give her all the reassurance that she’ll ever need. “You’re not- I’m never letting you go. Not now, not ever.”
By the time she’s whining and writhing and spilling out these bittersweet sobs, rocking your cock down the crevice until you’re fucking your load right down her gut. You’re hunched over, fingers digging into the two small divots below the small of her back, hips bucking, a culmination - a nod, callback, homage, whatever you’d like to call it. You’ll leave your sentiment here, along with your heart, pulsing every beat out until the strokes get slow, lethargic.
Until you finally lay to rest with a kiss to her temple.
You tilt your face, let the breath graze across hers. Her hands are clasped together, your thumb pulling a bit of her hair away from her cheek. She’s shaking a bit, chest heaving but calming as the seconds pass on the clock.
“I was always yours.” This was the lasting resolve you’ve had with Julie, “from the very start.” You’re muttering while she’s knitting her eyebrows, trying to take time to recuperate, fluttering her eyes open that tears down the final wall within your chamber.
She tries to form something within the rows of her teeth, and though it might not be recognizable to your ear canals, you press your forehead against hers again, letting that lazy smile do damage for the thousandth time since she got here. Drink in the moment while the crickets start singing their patchy tones.
“It’s you,” she says, tiredly. “It’s always been you.” She’s softly laughing while you’re peppering her with kisses, and she’s quick to get both of her hands on opposite ends of your face, having one for herself because she’s selfish. “No one else even comes close.”
Finally closing her eyes, you pull a soft smile, internalizing what was just said.
–
The agenda is running blanks - you’re stuck doing the usual, daily routine that you’ve built a proper consistency with. Sometimes, it feels like you’re running a rerun of that one annoying sitcom your dad plays to serve as background noise while doing chores around the house.
In other words, it’s been a little bit dry.
“You never really told me,” you tell her, leaning back against the car while squinting through your sunny’s, staring up at the building in front of you. “I’ve always wondered if you’d take the chance to teach a class here in your free time.” The building, that is, Julie’s old dance studio; one of a few places that has served a pivotal purpose in your friendship and relationship with her. She tells you that you would’ve done a few things well if you had chosen to pursue the same passion as her years ago, and you laugh at that.
“Something to consider,” she starts. Walking back towards the car while you sigh and have an eyebrow lifted. “Think they’d take me in when I’m supposed to lay low for the time being?”
“Talk about laying low when everyone knows you’re back in town.” You shrug.
“I might just do it.”
“Then go for it.”
You pass her a drink that was bought from one of her favorite spots just five minutes down the street, puts the refreshing taste down her throat before returning the cup.
“I’ve only got a few more days,” Julie says, twisting your attention from your phone back to her. And once again, you’re reminded. You’ve known the stakes long before she even arrived here. The low burst of a bus passing by, a daunting noise you'll hear again once you drop her off at the airport when it happens. “The company wants me back to finalize a few things before the next project.”
“Right,” you nod, remembering clearly about the short topic when she brought it up the other day. “Can’t be a show if they don’t have their star present to make it happen.”
Julie shifts a shoulder, tilting her head and prompting you to walk with her. There wasn’t anywhere else to go in this town, and you’ve done the lot. At this point, you’re just enjoying the quality time spent well with her.
And it gets you wondering - probably the fine line between delusion and deep thought about: What would it be like if she didn’t become famous in the first place? Would she pursue other endeavors besides doing dancing and music that she could be proud about? What if it didn’t work out back then, and she had to come back here? None of those things really matter unless she tried, and look what happened; she did try, and she made it.
It’s after all these years of building her own life, you realize again, that even though there's that apparent gap of leaving you in the dark for all this time, she’s still the same - deep down, in this very moment where no one else sees her as this superstar, but a regular person. A person, to you, that has grown much more than what you could have ever imagined possible. The list of things in your mental checklist has filled up to the point where the paper roll in would have to be extended, maybe stapled to a stack.
You hit the jackpot in the roulette love-life that some are very lucky to have. That longtime childhood friend-next-door neighbor turned to lover seems very make-believe and cliché if put in writing, but you’ll fill the blank journal page of that story somewhere down the line.
(An idea, or, ideas - for the topic of that entry, start forming. Maybe it’s a good thing to set some time aside to rewrite that empty draft completely.)
She’s here now, she’ll be gone soon; but the unchanging fact is that you’ll be her strongest supporter. An act of affection that doesn’t really need to be said out loud, and you’re cheering her on even if she’s begging to stay in this town. You love her and what she does; you’ll love her even if there’s some distance between you two.
Love. You blurt out while zoning out to the small skyline, it’s such a funny concept to think about. Even if–
“What was that?” Julie asks, stopping in place while you’re suspended on the sidewalk. “Did you say something?”
And, some things in life are meant to be said.
“I love you.” The own voice in your throat sounds unnatural, like a spirit possessed you into saying it. You clear your throat, not willing to hide away from anything - especially her. “I’ve always loved you. Didn’t you know that?”
Julie turns her body square to you, a tilt of her head, inquisitively, lightly scrunching her face at what you just confessed, admitted - determining if you just committed perjury at this very moment. All she did after a second was nod in agreement, looking you in the eyes that tell a whole lot more, “Yeah, I knew that.”
You cringe, throwing the most gummy grin at her imaginable. She laughs, walking forward with a small hand slap to your chest. It’s silly, cute, and so sweet. This girl has weaved into your heart, threading it so tightly that everyone else outside your little bubble knows that you’re hers. A keepsake, one of many.
“Think you can handle missing me?” she asks, hand on your cheek - and this time you’re the one leaning into her touch. “From the looks of it, you’re gonna be struggling. Like, a lot.”
“Tsk,” and you’re rolling your eyes while she starts to walk again, “I worry, like a normal person should.”
“What’s there for you to worry about?” Julie asks you with her hands stacked behind her back, “until then, we’ve got all the time in the world. Now c’mon!”
She grabs you by the hand, and you’re left smiling since it’s been something to be fine with. Because at the end of it all, she’s always right.
Best believe that you won’t forget it.
-
// i hope you enjoyed!! wanted to pop in here to say a quick massive thank you for all the amazing support since my debut so far. it genuinely means the world to me and I appreciate you guys from the bottom of my heart. much love to everyone, stick around for more, and stay healthy <333 //
#julie smut#julie#kiof julie#kiof smut#kiof julie x male reader#male reader smut#kpop smut#kpop fanfic
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Disaster in Penacony
Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader
Summary: You and the Astral Crew (minus Nanook) go to Penacony! Things end up not going well on your end and a mysterious blond man (who works for the IPC) oh so generously offers you his hotel room! Little did you know, you won't have the best experience in Penacony as a newcomer.
Note: I haven't played HSR's story quests in a long time (I'm still in Penacony), so this fic is most likely awful. I will not continue writing any HSR fanfics until I am fully caught up with the game itself. Newer fics will be shorter since it's been a little over a year since I have written or posted any fanfics— baby steps. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: I'm not caught up with HSR, so this fic is most likely ass. Possible mischaracterization of the newer characters 😞
Word Count: 5.2k
You cling tightly to March’s arms as you and the rest of the Astral Express crew enter The Reverie in Penacony. While the hotel is beautiful, the multiple stories make you feel nauseous. You did not know that the hotel has so many floors. Some areas of the hotel don’t have any railing— or at least one high enough to prevent people from falling.
“Are you alright? You don’t look too good, [Y/N],” March says, walking farther into The Reverie Hotel.
You shake your head, shutting your eyes tightly. You’re not enjoying the fact that you’re somewhere really high up. March sighs sympathetically, rubbing your back as she guides you to where the others are standing. Mr. Yang and Himeko are talking to the lobby manager to check everyone in the hotel and make sure the information provided is correct.
March pats your back, “[Y/N], look! We’re safe away from the edge! There is a stable ground, and everyone is safe and sound!”
You peek from March’s shoulder, eyeing your surroundings warily. Dan Heng and Caelus walk over to you and March, looking at you worriedly. You didn’t stop clinging to March’s arm since arriving at the hotel lobby, refusing to let go of her arms. While you can cling to Dan Heng or Caelus, you opted for March because she was the closest person to you when the Astral Express arrived at Penacony. March guides you over to an empty chair in the hotel lobby and sits you down.
Dan Heng and Caelus stand before you, making sure to shield your view of the precarious drop of The Reverie Hotel. After what feels like forever, you finally release March’s arm and bury your face into your knees. Caelus sighs, patting your head while you try to collect yourself. You’re not a fan of heights, not even a bit. Sure, you go on rollercoaster rides from time to time, but this is different.
While drowning in fear and misery, you hear footsteps approaching over to where you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus are standing and sitting. You peek from your knees and stare at the ground, seeing familiar pairs of shoes come into your line of sight.
Mr. Yang sighs, “How is [Y/N] doing?” he asks.
“It's the same as before. They refuse to look up and have been attached by the hip with March since our arrival at The Reverie Hotel,” Caelus replies. “It’s a miracle March can drag them to this spot without them dying on the spot.”
Himeko giggles, walks over to where you’re sitting, and kneels before you, rubbing the back of your head. “You poor thing. Do you think you’ll be able to go to our hotel room once we have officially checked into the hotel?”
You peek up at Himeko, nodding. “Yeah! I can try! But I can’t promise anything, Himeko. Why does this hotel have so many floors?” You whisper.
Before Himeko can say anything, Dennis, the hotel lobby manager, approaches your group with a sheet of paper in his hand. “Mr. Welt Yang and Miss Himeko?” Dennis asks, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose.
Everyone looks at each other, confused and worried, before Himeko and Mr. Yang walk over to the lobby manager. After giving yourself an internal pep talk, you let out a long sigh before standing up. March gasps softly, covering her mouth with her hand as she watches you. Dan Heng rolls his eyes at March’s reaction while Caelus shakes his head, chuckling under his breath.
“What’s with the reaction, March?” Caelus asks, lightly tapping March upside her head.
March grumbles and glares at Caelus while rubbing the back of her head. “Hey! Watch the hair! You’re so annoying, Caelus!” March stands up and brushes the dust off her clothes. “How are you feeling, [Y/N]? Still as anxious as ever?”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. There’s no use in freaking out over heights— you and everyone else are already at the hotel lobby, and everyone is going to their rooms soon. Once you arrive at your room, you should be fine and dandy! Then, you can shower and nap before being dragged who knows where.
You smile at March, though it ends up being a grimace, “I’m okay for now, March. I just wish that Nanook was here with us.”
While everyone on the Astral Express is currently at Penacony, Nanook, unfortunately, cannot join you and the rest of the Astral crew. Why? Nanook said something about having to deal with an unspecified situation and didn’t want you to get involved. You’re grateful that Nanook didn’t want you to get involved, but you’re disappointed he’s missing out on being at an interesting place like Penacony. However, what Nanook’s definitely not missing out on was this damn hotel because why the hell does it have so many stories?
“It’s okay! Sometimes, you and Nanook need to be away from each other! It’s good for couples to take a break from seeing each other if they spend waaaaay too much time together!” March says, patting your back.
Dan Heng coughs and clears his throat. “They’re not dating, March. Just because they spend time together does not mean something is going on between them.” Dan Heng looks mildly miffed— almost like he wants to smack March for saying that out loud.
March raises her eyebrows at Dan Heng. “Oh, really? Then how come I heard them—”
“March!!” You screech, lunging towards the girl and covering her mouth with both your hands while she struggles against your grasp. You smile at Dan Heng and Caelus awkwardly. You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel March lick your hand, trying to get you to release her. But you continue to cover her mouth while Dan Heng sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while Caelus stares at you two in horror.
“Please behave in public, you two. Other guests of The Reverie Hotel are staring at us,” Dan Heng mutters, looking around the hotel as if he doesn’t know you and March.
You grunt and release March from your grasp after she elbows you in the gut. You wipe your hand on your pants and glare at March, who sticks her tongue out at you with a shit-eating grin. You grumble to yourself before looking over at Mr. Yang and Himeko. Himeko gestures for your group to walk over, but the look on her face makes you not want to go over there.
March leans over to you, “Are we in trouble?” She whispers.
You shrug and approach Himeko anyway, with Dan Heng, Caelus, and March following close behind. As you approach where Himeko, Dennis, the lobby manager, and Mr. Yang, you realize they’re in an almost heated discussion. Mr. Yang looks unhappy, almost stressed. You and the trio behind you trade glances with each other.
Dan Heng clears his throat, grabbing their attention, “Is there a problem?”
Dennis laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes and no, but I’ll leave that to Mr. Yang and Miss Himeko to answer your questions,” Dennis says, taking a step back and gesturing to Mr. Yang and Himeko.
Everyone looks at Mr. Yang and Himeko anxiously. Caelus and March look at one another, knowing what’s about to come. It happened the first time they went to Penacony, and it’s most likely happening again, but this time, you and Dan Heng are present.
Mr. Yang sighs, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Himeko places a hand on Mr. Yang’s shoulders and smiles at him as if she’s telling him that she’s going to be the one to tell you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus what has happened. Although Mr. Yang is grateful for Himeko's wanting to explain the situation, he rejects the offer and gives the four of you a rundown of the situation.
Apparently, your information did not register in The Reverie Hotel’s system— like how it happened with Caelus in the past when they went to Penacony the first time. It’s strange how the same situation is being repeated, but this time, it’s happening to you.
Dan Heng furrows his eyebrows, crosses his arms over his chest, and looks at Dennis. “Is it possible to book [Y/N] a spare hotel room in The Reverie Hotel?”
“No, it won’t be possible because all of the hotel rooms are completely booked,” Dennis replies, fumbling with his hands anxiously. “I apologize, but I have thoroughly checked the hotel’s system for Mx. [Y/N]’s information, and I cannot find anything in the system.”
You press your lips into a thin line before sighing in defeat. Perhaps this is your sign to return to the Astral Express. After all, you’re not fond of the design of the hotel. It’s beautiful, but the precarious heights make you feel queasy, and you don’t know how much longer you can stay in the lobby without spiraling. Plus, you miss your cabin and Nanook.
You smile at Dennis and wave him off, “Oh, don’t feel bad! This is probably a sign for me to return to the Astral Express while everyone else stays and enjoys Penacony!” You’re getting ready to walk away from the group, but Caelus places both hands on your shoulders and drags you back to where you’re standing.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Mr. Yang says, nodding.
You nearly deflate at his response. It’s not like you didn’t want to stay in Penacony and enjoy a new environment! You don’t want to stay in The Reverie Hotel. You pucker your lips and nod, letting the group figure out another way to let you stay at the hotel. You sit on the arm rest of the couch in the lobby, staring at the red carpet of the hotel, zoning out.
A laugh captures your attention, making you look up to see a blond man approach you. He looks dazzling, almost luxurious. He takes his sunglasses off and lets them hang from his shirt. The blond man stops before your group, crossing his arms across his chest, and gazes at everyone with mirth.
“Ah, so we’re having the same issues as last time, I see,” the blond man chuckles, shaking his head. “My, my, who do I have to give my room to this time?” He strokes his chin as his magenta and cyan eyes scan the group.
You freeze in your spot when you two lock eyes. For a split second, the blond man’s expression quickly changes before returning to the typical smugness he displayed earlier. Before he can say anything, a man and woman stand beside him. The new guests (?) have wings for ears… do they have ears? You slowly tilt to the side, trying to see if they have ears, but the man with grayish-blue hair narrows his eyes at you.
“Aventurine, Sunday, and Robin. What a pleasant surprise to see you three again!” Himeko says, smiling at the trio.
Caelus leans to Dan Heng and March, “Is it really a pleasant surprise to see them? I mean, Robin, it’s good to see her again, but the other two?” Caelus mutters.
The blond man (Aventurine?) strides toward the nervous lobby manager, pulling him over to the desk while the grayish-blue-haired man and periwinkle-haired girl remain with your group. You can’t help but get this unsettling feeling in your gut. You squirm in your spot before getting up from the armrest and waddling over to where Mr. Yang is standing.
“What’s the matter?” Mr. Yang murmurs as you stand behind him and Himeko.
You shake your head, grabbing onto the back of his coat and looping your arm around Himeko’s arm. The man and woman stare at you— one being out of curiosity and the other being unreadable. The longer the grayish-blue-haired man stares at you, the more the unsettling feeling creeps over you. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something off about him. Other than the fact that he’s incredibly attractive, the angel wings for ears (does he have ears?) give him an illusion in a way— If that makes sense.
The periwinkle-haired girl approaches you, Mr. Yang, and Himeko. The gentle smile of hers puts you at ease, but the feeling is short lived when the grayish-blue-haired man stands beside her. The girl peeks from between Himeko and Mr. Yang, waving at you with the same sweet and gentle smile. Aeons, you can’t help but feel like a child meeting strangers for the first time.
“Hello! I’m Robin, and this,” she gestures to the stoic man beside her, “is Sunday, my brother! I see that you’re new to Penacony!” Robin looks ecstatic.
You nervously smile at Robin, debating whether you should come out from behind Mr. Yang and Himeko. “Hello, Robin and Sunday! It’s nice to meet you both! Please excuse me for my strange behavior. As you said earlier, I am new to Penacony and feeling overwhelmed.”
Robin’s eyes widen, giving you a sympathetic look. “Are you alright? I understand this is a new environment for you and all, but are you alright?” She takes a step closer.
The scary yet beautiful man beside Robin— his name is Sunday, holds his arm out in front of his sister, stopping her in her tracks. Robin looks at Sunday curiously as he continues to stare you down, almost as if he’s trying to read every part of you. From your facial expression to your body language— heck, maybe he’s trying to read your mind, too! Wait, can Sunday read your mind? He can’t, right?
Robin clears her throat, trying to grab Sunday’s attention. “Is there something wrong?”
Sunday lowers his arm and glances at Robin from the corner of his eyes before flashing a calm smile in your direction. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you can’t help but feel that he doesn’t necessarily like you. Maybe it’s all in your head, but who knows? “There’s no issue, dear sister. Although, I do not want you to startle our new guest here. They look overwhelmed,” Sunday says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Robin gives you another sympathetic smile before watching you get whisked away by Dan Heng and Caelus. While the trio (March, Caelus, and Dan Heng) are keeping you distracted from your fear of heights and the two good looking siblings, Mr. Yang and Himeko talk to Aventurine and Dennis a little longer. Robin and Sunday keep to themselves, occasionally talking with one another while not-so-subtly looking in your direction.
After thirty minutes, Aventurine struts towards your group with a smug smile. “Due to a system error, I have decided to give you my hotel room,” Aventurine says, propping his hands on his hips while looking at you with his magenta-cyan eyes. “Come, come! I’ll show you where the room is!” Aventurine turns around and starts walking, gesturing for you to follow him.
Aventurine graciously gives you a short tour around The Reverie Hotel. It���s beautiful, and you’re relieved that you didn’t have to be in an area where you’re very aware of the number of stories the hotel has. Walking past the VIP lounge, you can’t help but feel out of place, but you ignore the feeling and continue to follow after Aventurine with the others.
Needless to say, the hotel room is something you didn’t expect. There’s no bed, and there are more couches than beds. There is a seashell-looking bathtub—what is that, really? It’s filled with blue liquid, and bubbles are floating to the top. You turn to Aventurine, confused as hell. Aventurine chuckles and starts to explain everything to you and how things work in Penacony. Aside from the seashell bed bathtub thing, there’s no bathroom.
“— Does that make sense, Mx. [Y/N]?” Aventurine asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You blink and clear your throat, nodding. “Yes, Mr. Aventurine.”
Aventurine smiles, shaking his head. “There’s no need to call me Mr. Aventurine. Mx. [Y/N]. Aventurine is just fine. We are friends, correct?” He raises his eyebrows at you, the corner of his lips curving into a tiny smirk.
“If that’s the case, then there’s no need for you to call me Mx. [Y/N], Aventurine.”
Aventurine throws his head back, laughing. Your face warms the more he laughs and pats your shoulder. Dan Heng, March, and Caelus look at Aventurine with an indescribable look. They look like they’re judging the blond man. What’s his job occupation again? He’s part of the IPC, correct? Should you even trust Aventurine..?
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to tend to. [Y/N], I hope you enjoy your stay at The Reverie Hotel and look forward to seeing you in the Dreamscape.” Aventurine winks at you before exiting the hotel room.
The Dreamscape, huh? One by one, each person leaves your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sit at the edge of the tub (what is that thing, though? It’s not a bed, that’s for sure) and stare at the glowing blue liquid. So, this thing is supposed to transport you to Dreamscape? It won’t hurt to try it out, right?
You dip your feet into the glowing tub before slowly submerging yourself. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to soothe your racing thoughts and heart. You slowly lose consciousness, drifting off to Dreamscape.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
“We’ve been here for who knows how long, and there are still no signs of [Y/N]. Are you sure they’re in Dreamscape?” March demands, crossing her arms over her chest. “They’re not picking up my phone calls or text messages!”
Himeko places her hand on March’s shoulders, “I’m sure [Y/N] is in Dreamscape. After all, it’s quite large, and [Y/N] is probably exploring around.”
Before March can respond, she sees Welt, Dan Heng, and Caelus approach her and Himeko with new guests. March does a double-take and points at the new guests. Since when did someone contact these men? Unfortunately for you, Nanook isn’t with the group. “Poor [Y/N]... they’re going to be so disappointed that Nanook isn’t in Dreamscape with us. Can Aeons enter the Dreamscape?”
“Why did you bring an army of men to search for [Y/N]?” March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.
Jing Yuan chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s good to see you again, March 7th. We were informed about [Y/N]’s sudden disappearance. How can we sit by and do nothing?” Jing Yuan asks, crossing his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at the pink-haired girl.
The bustling city of Golden Hour is loud enough to deafen anyone who speaks. So, to be able to hear each other, Welt suggests going elsewhere to speak on the situation. Blade grumbles and glares at the person who bumps into him. The person stumbles out an apology before scurrying away.
Gepard clears his throat. “I can see why the assumption of [Y/N] getting lost is possible. Penacony is huge and lively.”
“Hey, this may sound like a craaaaazy concept, but why not stop by their hotel room at The Reverie Hotel before, I don’t know, check Dreamscape?” Sampo asks, brushing his fringe away from his eyes.
Blade rolls his eyes, kicking over the advertisement sign. It flops over before scurrying around the group. Blade pulls out his sword, getting ready to hit the scurrying sign, but Luocha chuckles and stops him before he can pull his sword out. The sign continues to hop and mock Blade before running back to where it was previously.
Luocha hums, brushing his hair off his shoulders, and scans the lively environment. “Penacony is a strange yet interesting place. Perhaps [Y/N] got distracted by the things Penacony has to offer and ended up getting lost. I’m sure they’re fine.”
The large group continues to scour the area of Golden Hour, searching for the one important missing person who is not from their universe. The Penaconians and tourists from all over the galaxy walk past the group, muttering to themselves as they weave through Himeko and the others. Everyone is too immersed in Golden Hour to notice the distress the group is showing. Where in the world are you?
After searching high and low for your whereabouts, everybody is back at square one. Blade sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, wanting nothing more than to leave Penacony and its festive environment. Cars race by, and people are laughing and enjoying the Dreamscape. The environment can be overwhelming for newcomers. Perhaps you feel that way about Penacony and leave the Dreamscape without notifying the others about it.
“How are we sure that [Y/N] is still in the Dreamscape? Perhaps they never step foot in Golden Hour. Have you guys thought about that?” Blade asks, raising his eyebrows at the Astral Express crew.
“Huh, that could be a possibility…” Luka murmurs, stroking his chin. “How can we be sure if [Y/N] entered the Dreamscape?”
March groans loudly, running her hands through her hair, tempted to yank at the roots. “We can’t just keep standing here wondering where they are. We need to look everywhere for them because who knows what could have happened to them if we don’t search every nook and cranny!” March stomps her feet.
Welt places a comforting hand on March’s shoulder, giving them a light squeeze. “Don’t worry, March. We will find them in no time.”
March sniffles, hugging herself. “How can I not worry about them? There are weird people here, and we can’t trust Sunday or Aventurine to find [Y/N] because they’re weirdos with weird intentions,” March grumbles, wiping the stray tear away.
Himeko walks over to March and pulls her into a hug. March buries her face in Himeko’s shoulders and hugs Himeko tightly. Everyone stands in silence, listening to the live chatter and cars driving in the background. It’s best for everyone to take a break from the search to clear their minds, or else they won’t be able to focus on the search.
Welt is sure that you’re safe somewhere in Penacony. The main issue is finding your exact location, and there is no way to reach out to you or pinpoint your exact location. Wherever you are in Penacony, everyone is determined to find you and bring you back to The Reverie Hotel before anything or anyone can get to you.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
You peek from the cement planter, staring at the monsters in horror. They perk up and look in your direction, only to see nothing of the sort. You hug your knees to your chest, slowly peeking from the corner. When you arrive in Dreamscape, you are greeted with monsters. It wasn’t pleasant in the slightest, and you ran for your life. Of course, because this is your first time in Penacony, you don’t know where you are going, and this is where you end up— hiding behind cement planters, praying for someone to save your ass.
You reach into your pocket to call for someone, only to come to the realization that it most definitely fell out of your pocket as you’re running for your life. You hear a shout and something falling to the ground. You peek from the corner once again to see a tall man with brown hair kicking the absolute shit out of the mechanical soda dog and other creatures you cannot identify.
“Goddamn, who is that fine ass man?” You gasp, covering your mouth.
The man adjusts his tie and rubs the back of his neck before yawning into his hands. His right arm is littered with scars, one of the buttons of his shirt looks like it can snap off at any second, and he has bags underneath his eyes. The mysterious man sighs, walking in your direction. You slowly stand up, checking your surroundings for possible monsters lurking nearby.
“What are you doing out here alone? It’s not safe here,” The man says, crossing his arms over his chest.
You clear your throat. “I, uh, woke up here, actually! The last thing I remember, aside from running for my life, was going into one of those bed, bathtub pods thingy at The Reverie Hotel, and here I am.”
“Hm. So, you never woke up in Golden Hour?”
You shake your head, earning a sigh in response. “I would contact my friends, but I dropped my phone while running for my life. So, there’s no way for me to contact my friends, unfortunately, and it’s most likely they’re at Golden Hour.”
“Well, since you’re, I’m assuming, new to Penacony, I’ll take you to Dreamjolt Hostelry. From there, I can contact your friends to come and get you.” The man says nonchalantly, gesturing to you to follow him.
You trail behind the tall beefy man, surveying your surroundings. It’s beautiful and also really high up. It’s probably almost as bad as The Reverie Hotel, but it’s outdoors. The man stops in his tracks and looks at you with an amused yet tired look. You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights, wondering why he stopped out of nowhere.
“Is there a problem?” You ask, worried he might leave you stranded wherever you’re at.
The man chuckles, shaking his head. “No, no! No problems at all! However, I never got your name. My name’s Gallagher. I’m a security officer for the Bloodhound Family, and you are?” He raises his eyebrows at you.
Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you pretend to look at the beautiful sky. “My name’s [Y/N]! It’s nice to know the name of my savior,” you say, trying to cool yourself down. At a time like this, you still manage to find someone attractive no matter how close you come to death.
He smirks, “[Y/N], huh? It's good to finally pin a name on that pretty face of yours. Now, follow me.” Gallagher starts walking.
You stare at his back, eyes wide. You fan yourself to get rid of the heat settling on your cheeks, but the more you try to do so, the more your face becomes warmer. You’re okay, and you’re safe— all thanks to the Bloodhound Family’s security officer.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Upon arriving at the Dreamjolt Hostelry, Gallagher tells you to make yourself a home, and that is what you do. You sit at the bar, nursing a drink Gallagher made for you— nonalcoholic, of course. Gallagher steps away from the counter to make a phone call to Mr. Yang. As you’re sipping your drink, you hear a soft sigh behind you.
“My, my. You’re over here nursing a drink while your beloved Astral Express family is searching high and low for you.” Aventurine chuckles.
You turn around to see Aventurine, Sunday, and some violet-haired man. Sunday smiles at you, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. You press your lips into a thin line, pushing the drink away. You want to look for Gallagher, but you’re worried that if you turn around, one of them is going to snatch you up before Gallagher can say “SoulGlad.”
The violet-haired man rolls his eyes. “Ignore this bumbling fool. I’m here to inform you that your friends— The Astral Express Crew— are on their way to your location. That Security Officer called to inform them of your whereabouts. Needless to say, they’re relieved to hear that you’re safe and sound and have brought guests along with them.”
You smile at the violet-haired man warily, “Thank you for letting me know, uh…”
“Veritas Ratio— Dr. Ratio.” Dr. Ratio bows politely.
You look at Aventurine, who’s now standing much closer to you. You take a step back and raise your eyebrows at the blond man. Geez, just when you thought you were going to make new friends in Penacony, you ended up being wrong. These men are giving you weird vibes, but not in a good way. It’s such a shame that they’re so pretty. Dr. Ratio, on the other hand, is the lesser of two evils (Sunday and Aventurine).
“If you three are thinking of putting your hands on [Y/N], I highly suggest you don’t, or else you’ll be dealing with something worse than the Astral Crew and their new guests,” Gallagher interjects, now standing beside you.
Sunday exhales through his nostrils, narrowing his eyes at the Security Officer. “And what are you implying exactly, Gallagher? You’re going to be the one to protect them?”
Gallagher shrugs. “I saved and protected them from harm earlier. What makes you think I can’t do it again? Oh, and I wasn’t implying myself,” Gallagher chuckles.
“What are you—”
A deep voice interrupts Aventurine. “WHERE ARE THEY?”
Your heart jumps into your throat, and you peek over Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, and Sunday’s shoulders to see a familiar person storming into the Dreamjolt Hostelry. Your eyes widen, and you look at Gallagher, who shrugs in response.
“Nanook, what are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t come to Penacony.” You squeak.
The Aeon of Destruction’s glare softens upon seeing you. Nanook walks toward you, pushing past the three men, and grabs you by the waist before hoisting you over his shoulders. Just when Sunday’s about to say something, Nanook glares at the man, causing him to close his mouth and glare at the Aeon of Destruction. Nanook smirks and shakes his head, walking to the entrance of Dream Hostelry. At the entrance stands the Astral Express Crew and new guests from Belobog, the Xianzhou Luofu. Wait, who is that redhead?
“I see the Aeon has made it to them before we did,” The redhead sighs.
You gesture to the redhead, confused, “Who’s this?” You ask.
“My name’s Argenti. I belong to the Knights of Beauty. It’s a pleasure to meet you, [Y/N], despite such circumstances,” Argenti bows, “It’s a relief to see you are safe and unharmed.”
You awkwardly smile at Argenti, still on Nanook’s shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Argenti! Though, I wish we could’ve met differently.”
“Yer lucky Gallagher was able to find you. Yer friends were close to putting up missing person’s posters all over Penacony if they didn’t find you by the end of the day.” A man wearing a cowboy hat chuckles, shaking his head.
“And you are…?” You trail off, suddenly feeling drained from the introductions. How many people have you met today? Aventurine, Argenti, Dr. Ratio, Robin, Sunday, Gallagher.
The cyborg cowboy tips his hat forward, winking at you. “The name’s Boothill. A pleasure to be at your service, Mx. [Y/N].”
Himeko chuckles. “Alright, everyone! That is enough for today! I’m sure all of you can introduce yourselves to [Y/N] back at The Reverie Hotel (Reality). Poor [Y/N] probably feels drained from today and needs rest, isn’t that right?” Himeko looks at you.
Nanook shakes his head. “We will be returning to the Astral Express, which is much safer for them. They can return to Penacony whenever, but I do not want them staying at the hotel.” Nanook states, glaring over at Aventurine, Sunday, and Dr. Ratio.
Before anyone can interject, Nanook walks away with you still over his shoulders. You lay limp on Nanook’s shoulders, closing your eyes. You can’t wait to return to reality. Being chased by unknown creatures of Penacony sure did a number on you. You can’t wait to relax and sleep on a real bed with Nanook at the Astral Express.
Note: Now that I got that out of the way, I am finally free!! I had this idea on my mind for a while and it was driving me crazy. I don't really like how this fic turned out, to be honest. Lowkey tempted not to post this, but I'll post it anyway since it's been a while. Next week's fic will not be Isekai'd!Reader fanfics for both Genshin and HSR. It'll be a commissioned fanfic instead, so that's going to be different. I'm going to try to post two fics a week in the future, but idk when. Anyway! To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Taglist for this fic: Will not be tagging people in fics for now— at least for this fanfic
Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
#Honkai Star Rail x reader#Honkai Star Rail imagine#Honkai Star rail fanfiction#Honkai Star Rail fanfic#HSR x reader#HSR imagine#HSR fanfiction#HSR fanfic#Dan Heng x reader#Gepard Landau x reader#Sampo Koski x reader#Welt Yang x reader#Blade x reader#Jing Yuan x reader#Luocha x reader#Caelus x reader#Nanook x reader#Luka x reader#Aventurine x reader#Dr. Ratio x reader#Sunday x reader#Gallagher x reader#Boothill x reader#Argenti x reader#genshinluvr
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reader x hyunjin based on the last skz code where they went camping - he looked so hot working on that tent 😯💨 - , going with the boys since it was all minho idea, reader doesn't like camping but she likes him so, building tension up bc that's hot too, and maybe he could switch places with reader's bff and sneak into their's tent? 🖤
pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
t/w: friends to lovers ; Hyunjin is a flirt ; fluff ; a little suggestive.
w/c: 2.1k
a/n: it was fun to write! And yeah, Hyunjin really looked hot (I mean, he always is). The way he rolled his sleeves up omg, I couldn’t not write this. Hope you like this, anon!
↳ Reader has with the members the same friendship they have with each other.
"I hate this." Jiwoo complains as she drops the bag she was holding to the ground.
"Come on!" You try to cheer her up, "It's nice to be out in nature sometimes!"
She shoots you a glare, "That's easy to say," she says bitterly, "You hate camping more than I— hey!" she exclaims when you nudge her arm with your elbow, silencing her.
"I love camping." You lie loudly, with the boys just a few meters away from you.
"I can't say the same." Changbin comments, slapping his arm to kill a mosquito.
And suddenly, an arm falls around your shoulders. You turn towards the person who has come up next to you and see Hyunjin, unconsciously shrinking under his close presence, "I agree with Y/nie, a bit of fresh air away from the city is nice."
A small smile forms on your lips.
"You say that because you have no intention to help with anything." Chan chimes in, opening one of the bags he carried.
"Clever of you to assume that." Hyunjin responds, smiling.
"That's why Hyunjin will help set up the tent." Minho states, biting back a smile.
"Huh? I don't know how!" Hyunjin complains, taking his arm off your shoulders and moving closer to the older guy.
You regret that the contact was so short, but you maintain your composure and watch him walk away.
"You'll learn." Minho closes the conversation in a tone that allows no reply.
—
“You need to pump it?” Hyunjin asks, looking for the pump to inflate the tent.
You watch him curiously, seeing him search non-stop for a while.
“Did you find it?” Minho asks him, watching in disbelief. There are only 5 bags, how can he not have found it yet?
He starts to approach him, but you are quicker.
“They have accessories here.” Hyunjin says in a pouty, hopeless voice, closing a bag. He turns to continue searching but almost falls to the ground from the jump he makes when you suddenly stand up in front of him, very, perhaps too, close.
You hand him the pump that you found in a few seconds, “You suck at finding things.”
He puts a hand on his heart, opening his mouth and sighing slowly with closed eyes, as if he has just seen a ghost, “You scared me.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatic behaviour, “Don’t thank me.” You say sarcastically.
He smiles, his front teeth slightly showing behind his slightly parted lips, “Thank you, Y/nie.” He blows you a kiss for show. You are used to this, yet you blush, while he bends down to attach the pump nozzle to the tent opening.
“Do you need help with that too?” you tease, smirking, trying to hide the visible blush coloring your cheeks from yourself, since he can't even see you.
“Huh?!” He stands up and rolls up the sleeves of the baggy t-shirt he’s wearing, showing his muscles, “I don’t need your help, these are enough for me.” He flexes his biceps.
You like them, don’t you? You think he’s cool, right? Hyunjin hopes so.
You chuckle at his words while he gets to work to really show what he’s capable of as you return to Jiwoo, who needs help with setting up your tent.
You don’t even realise you've been distracted watching him the whole time, as his muscles contract with the effort of pushing the pump handle, and soon small drops of sweat start to trickle down them.
Your eyes are fixed on the way his hands roll up the sleeves each time they unroll and on the way he lifts his head and pulls his hair back with one hand when it bothers him too much and prevents him from seeing. It almost seems like he does it on purpose so your eyes never leave him.
But someone's hand rests on your shoulder, waking you up. “He’s really handsome, isn’t he?” Minho smirks and holds back a laugh when you turn to look at him, blushing and trying to stammer out a response, but he stops you right away, “Wipe off all the drool you’ve spilled first.” He chuckles and walks away with your eyes on him, shaking his head slowly, amused.
Just then, you hear the sound of someone falling to the ground, and when you turn, you see Hyunjin sitting from exhaustion. His breathing is heavy, and pained sounds and light groans leave his lips, the heat of the sun making everything worse, while Jisung takes his place to finish inflating.
His friend hands him a black tank top to wear instead of the sweat-soaked shirt he has on, and that's what Hyunjin does.
He takes off the white t-shirt and uses it to wipe off the sweat covering his body. And once again, it seems like he does it to show off so that you watch and can’t take your burning eyes off him, off his body. But deep down, you know it’s not like that, and this thought forces you to immediately look away when his eyes meet yours, amused. It’s a quick contact, it lasts little but says a lot.
And you have to use all the self-control you have in your body not to set your eyes on that tight black fabric that perfectly hugs his body, making his muscles appear more tense and defined.
“That’s better.” he sighs with relief, soon returning to work and starting to add the stakes.
The silence is filled with the sounds of hammers, and you don't notice when he moves away from the group.
When you stand up after finishing setting up the tent, you look around, confused by his absence. “Where's Hyunjin?” you ask Jiwoo, who is taking out lights from a bag to use as decoration.
“He went for a walk over there; there's a river a bit further from here.” She points in a direction with the index finger of her free hand.
“Oh.” you nod in understanding.
Only a few seconds of silence pass before she speaks again, “Go to him, he's alone; I'll take care of decorating the tent.” It's written all over your face, what you want to do. She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes and winks at you instead.
And you don't need to be told twice.
When you arrive at the spot, you search for him with quick, darting glances. “Hyunjin?” you call out before finding him lying on a large rock with his hands on his belly and his eyes closed.
He didn't answer, so you gather that he's sleeping. You slowly approach him, trying not to make any noise, and sit down next to his sleeping body.
You look at his serene face and can almost hear his calm breath and sense the steady beats of his heart.
The place itself is very quiet. It's cozy, isolated from everyone else, and intimate.
You glance around a couple of times with furtive eyes, but you end up realising that you're alone. Then you look at him, his slightly parted inviting plump lips. You bring your face close to his almost instinctively, faces so close that you can feel his warm breath on your own lips, but then you pull away.
What are you trying to do? It's wrong and stupid. If someone saw you, it would be a mess.
And if you had done it, he would have noticed, because he's awake.
Your ears burn, your cheeks flushed with shame and guilt when his eyes open.
He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, looking at you with distant irises, wrapped in thoughts, then he sits up, raising his torso.
"I heard you calling me but I didn't feel like answering.” he tries to smile to tease you, but what comes out is more of a grimace. You pretend not to notice though, lying to him as well as to yourself.
"I knew it, that's why I've been sitting in silence." You smirk, trying to push away the shame and alleviate the strange tension that has arisen.
However, the situation changes so quickly. There is still tension between the two of you, but it is different with his hand holding your chin and his thumb slowly, intensely stroking your lower lip. Intense, too, is the look his burning eyes give to your rosy lips.
When your eyes meet, his movements stop, and it’s difficult for you to tell what he is thinking. The eyes are the reflection of the soul, he likes to say, but at the moment his do not reflect much.
And then, he pulls away from you. His gaze, his hand, a moment later are no longer on you.
He stands up, "You had something on your lips." He looks around, normal, apparently enjoying the scenery.
You touch your lips, embarrassed, "Oh."
He looks at you and chuckles softly, sitting back next to you with a now more serene air.
One of his arms rests on your shoulder in a friendly gesture, trying to get as close to you as possible.
"I like this place, it's quiet and relaxing," he says. "I want to paint it."
"Hey lovebirds!" You hear someone say from just a bit further away from you. You immediately recognize it's Jisung's voice, who has joined you. "Get a room."
Hyunjin chuckles, and you try to do the same, but your mind is clouded by the memory of his gesture.
The fact that he didn't stop you when you tried to get closer to his lips, the way he touched yours with his thumb.
These images still flash in your mind while everyone else sleeps. You touch your lips with two fingers almost unconsciously, smiling sadly.
But apparently, you're not the only one lost in thought, as the entrance to the tent is opened and the little lamp in between you and Jiwoo is turned on. The latter gets up and leaves, letting someone else in.
And how could you not recognize that head of dark hair making its way inside, closing the entrance zipper after murmuring a 'thank you' and receiving a nod in response.
"Hyunjin? What are you doing here? It's late." you ask him, but receive no answer.
You receive no answer because instead, his lips crash against yours in a needy gesture.
Your eyes widen at the sudden gesture, but you don't push him away, not even when his lips start moving on yours shortly after. Instead, you reciprocate.
It's desperate. Your movements aren't even in sync, but it's okay. It's perfect like this; you couldn't ask for anything better.
One of his hands rests above your ear, caressing it so delicately that you barely even notice, as if you’re made of porcelain.
You break the kiss with quick breaths and uncontrollable heartbeats, emotions finally laid bare.
"I've wanted to kiss you for so long." he admits in a whisper, looking into your eyes.
You find the strength to speak, albeit lightly, "Today by the river… I didn't just watch you." You admit, and you can't help the hint of embarrassment you feel in saying those words to him.
"I know, and I hoped so much that you'd do what you were about to do, but you stopped." His smile doesn't falter for a moment. "You didn't have anything on your lip; I just used it as an excuse to touch you. I actually wanted to kiss you, but when I looked into your eyes, I didn't have the courage." He confesses.
"And here you are now." You chuckle.
He huffs a chuckle, "It wouldn't have been like this if you hadn't tried to kiss me first."
“Now I wish I hadn’t stopped earlier today, by the river.” you say, lowering your eyes to his lips and then back to his, licking your own lips. “I’ve always thought you have nice lips and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you, you know?”
“Now you know,” he says happily. “Or do you need to explore a little more?”
You don’t even need to answer; he already knows the response. And once again, your lips are on each other’s, in a kiss that quickly becomes fast and hungry.
Your hands roam over each other’s bodies, fingers tangled in hair, hands gripping cheeks, hips, ending up on thighs.
Your breaths are fast, and the tent heats up. You’re so lost in each other that you don’t realise you’re not being very quiet anymore.
It’s Changbin’s voice that wakes you up and makes you pull away. “Could you guys keep it down a bit?” he shouts from a couple of tents away from yours.
“If you two don’t let me sleep or wake me up at any hour of the night, I’ll put you in the air fryer.” Minho’s voice intervenes right after, annoyed.
You and Hyunjin lock eyes and then laugh silently.
“At least we’ll be put together.”
#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fanfic#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#hyunjin x reader fluff#stray kids x reader fluff#hyunjin fluff#asks ♡#anon ask ♡
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Special week: Blurred Lines for Kinktober.
♡featuring: jjk & bsd x afab! reader.
ᡣ𐭩PHASE 1: geto & chuuya x reader
♡synopsis: being a movie star in the jjk world has its perks and pitfalls, especially when you find yourself face-to-face with four swoon-worthy men. to make things even more complicated, you end up sandwiched between chuuya and geto in one night.
♡warnings: ņsfw, mdņi 18+, established plot, smųt with plot, characters are aged up or in their 20s, threesome, double penetration, cum mentioned, double cream pie, unprotected sex, fingering, degradation 'slut' ... not proofreaded, ig that's it?
♡word count & a/n: 5.2k, a special thank you & a smooch to @remlionheart for helping my ass write this and feeding my brain with her sweet ideas. it was so amusing and fun to write that i couldn't stop giggling. this fic is dedicated to my bbg @bittysuguro
[check the jjk & bsd special week masterlist]
“what do you mean my card got declined?!” a furious voice echoes across the pristine, high-end louis vuitton boutique.
you pause mid-step, glancing over your shoulder. the boutique is one of the most luxurious on omotesando street, and you haven't expected any kind of outburst here, of all places and you can’t help but arch an eyebrow, pondering if he's trying to pay with monopoly money or if his bank account has suddenly taken a nosedive.
the subject of the chaos stands by the counter, fuming—he’s a redheaded man in a black designer coat with a flat cap pulled low over his striking blue eyes. he looks like he just walked out of a fashion editorial, except for the part where he is practically roaring at the terrified cashier and waving a gold card like a weapon.
you find yourself blinking once again—what in the world is going on?
“sir, i ran it three times, and each time—” the cashier stammers, flinching as the redhead leans over the counter like he is about to blow the place up.
“i know there’s money on it! RUN IT AGAIN!” he growls, and you swear you can see veins popping in his neck.
before the poor cashier can even protest further, another man saunters into view, tall, lean, and wearing the most obnoxiously casual yet designer outfit. white hair peeks out from under a pair of dark sunglasses, and despite the clear chaos, he is wearing the cockiest grin you’d ever seen.
“tsk..no need to get so worked up,” the white-haired man drawled, arms laden with five louis vuitton bags. “your poor is showing.”
the redhead whirls on him, eyes blazing. “what did you just say, you asshole?”
the taller man stands there unfazed with his shit grin spreading wider. “you heard me, short stack.”
the redhead’s whole body stiffens, and you half expect him to launch himself across the store. you are only a few paces away, casually browsing the new bags collection, but now you find yourself watching the scene unfold like a deer caught in headlights.
“oh, please,” the white-haired man replies with a chuckle, waving his hand dismissively. “you sure you wanna do this, kid?”
at that moment, the shorter guy’s feet literally lift off the ground as he floats up toward the white-haired man, arm cocking back for a punch. it's like some weird gravity-defying stunt, and you can't help but stare, unsure whether you are hallucinating or if this is a really elaborate prank. you half-expect someone to jump out and yell, “surprise! you’re on candid camera!” while someone else films your bewildered expression.
the punch swings forward but… stops. midair.
“what the—” the redhead sputters, his fist hovering a mere inch from the smug man’s face, like an invisible barrier is blocking it.
“oh,” the taller man snickers, “you actually tried.”
just as things are about to get out of hand, a third man appeared—a taller figure with dark hair tied back wearing a serene expression as if he just strolled in from a yoga session. he places a hand on the redhead’s shoulder, gently pulling him back to the ground.
“hey man, let’s not destroy the boutique today, alright?” he says, tone weary yet unbelievably calm, like he is used to this kind of chaos. his gaze shifts to the white-haired man whilst rolling his eyes. “saturo, stop antagonizing everyone you meet. people are staring.”
the redhead grumbles something under his breath, glaring daggers at the taller man—saturo?—who simply chuckles back at him.
just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, the fiery-haired man still glaring at gojo, like he’d just stolen his lunch money—suddenly turns his gaze toward you as if he can feel your eyes boring into him. “what are you staring at?”
he takes a step toward you, and you feel your body tense up like a live wire. you can't help but blink back at him, because honestly, what are you supposed to say? "oh sorry, just trying to figure out why a five-foot ball of rage is levitating in a louis vuitton boutique?"
before you can formulate any semblance of a response, a smooth voice cuts in, dripping with nonchalance, “now, now, chuuya, no need to take your frustration out on innocent bystanders.”
the ginger-haired man—chuuya, you think you heard—glare flickers with surprise as a tall man with messy brown hair sidles up next to him, his brown trench coat swaying with his lazy steps. you barely register him before he sweeps his hand out, pushing chuuya aside like a piece of furniture. “pardon my associate’s behavior. he’s always a little testy when his card gets declined.”
you blink. “huh…?”
the brown-haired man gives you a dazzling smile, the kind that should come with a warning label. “ahh but you…” he trails off, letting his dark eyes roam over your figure with a look of pure delight. “such a wonderful sight. how can such a radiant beauty even exist in this world?” his voice dips, smooth and syrupy, and you can practically hear the faint sound of violins playing in the background.
chuuya’s eye twitches as he scowls at dazai. “are you seriously doing this right now?”
dazai ignores him entirely, stepping closer to you. “osamu dazai, by the way. and you must be the goddess gracing us with your presence today. It’s an honor to bask in your light.” he flashes you a grin, the kind that looks practiced but somehow genuine, and you’re not sure if you should be flattered or call security.
“i—uh—” you stammer, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the situation.
before you can utter another word out, the white-haired man—saturo, you assume, based on the way the other man addressed him—suddenly whips around, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose just enough to reveal his gorgeous icy blue eyes, narrowing his gaze on you.
his entire demeanour shifts in an instant, going from casual smugness to absolute starstruck fanboy in 0.5 seconds. “wait… wait a damn minute—” his eyes widen, and he practically leaps forward, shoving dazai to the side like an afterthought. “you… you’re—no way, it's you! you’re my favourite movie star!”
dazai, now comically stumbling from the shove, frowns, “hey, i was talking first!”
saturo doesn’t even hear him, his attention laser-focused on you as he runs a hand through his white hair, grinning like an excited puppy. “holy shit, i’ve seen all your movies! you’re incredible! i mean, not just pretty—you’re talented too! that last film? chef’s kiss. truly. pure brilliance.”
you stare at him flabbergasted by the sudden barrage of praise. “uh… thanks?”
saturo claps his hands together and then turns to dazai with a smug smirk. “sorry, what were you saying? something about basking in her light?”
dazai, ever the smooth operator, recovers quickly, “wait a minute…” he muses, leaning slightly closer to saturo, “you know, your voice is kind of… nice.” he cocks his head as if discovering a new piece of an intriguing puzzle. “almost like i’ve heard it somewhere before… perhaps in a mirror?”
saturo's eyebrows shoot up, a look of surprise briefly crossing his face before his smug grin returns again. “well, well, aren’t you observant?” he says, hands casually stuffed into his pockets as he looks dazai up and down. “i guess i should compliment your taste then—great minds and great voices think alike.” he chuckles, and you can almost feel the mutual smugness radiating off the two men.
chuuya, who has been silently simmering through the whole exchange, finally explodes. “are ya both fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls, fists clenching at both his sides. “first, i’ve gotta deal with him”—he jabs a finger toward dazai—“and now this jackass too?” his foot taps impatiently on the boutique's polished floor, like he's ready to fight both of them.
“chuuya tsk.. tsk you're just upset because your little card got declined.” he shakes his head chuckling, “i didn’t know the economy would reject you specifically. but you know, you could always start a gofundme or maybe, uh i don’t know, pawn that fancy hat of yours?” he smirks playfully. “i hear they pay well for vintage."
saturo chuckles, clearly enjoying their little banter chaos. “hey, i like this guy! he’s got jokes.” he leans over toward dazai. “you sure we didn’t cross paths before?” then, turning his attention back to you with a teasing glint, he adds, “don’t worry, sweetheart—i’m still your best bet if you’re looking for a hero.” his eyes glimmer with flirtatious arrogance, as if he’s already planned your honeymoon by now.
chuuya throws his hands up in exasperation, shooting dazai an accusatory glare. “this isn’t funny, dazai! how the hell are we even supposed to survive in this weird-ass world when my damn card doesn’t work? not to mention that this is your fault for bringing us to this ridiculous place!”
the bandaged man sighs briefly, slipping into a serious look, “you're right. but I guess it's time to become a street performer. i mean, with your size, you’d make an adorable little tap dancer. might even make some decent pocket change.”
“you son of a—”
“enough!” the hot black-haired guy, who had been silently observing, steps forward, placing a firm hand on chuuya’s shoulder again. “we’re in public. can we try to act like civilized people for five minutes?”
chuuya grumbles, his fists still clenched, but the black-haired guy’s firm grip on his shoulder seems to anchor him enough to stop an all-out brawl. he glares between the two idiots in front of him—dazai still grinning like a smug bastard and saturo, who looks like he’s already planning his next punchline.
saturo straightens, his grin shifting slightly. “ugh suguru..don’t be such a killjoy.” he gestures lazily at dazai, “i was just making a new friend.”
chuuya scoffs. “friends? yeah, right. who the hell are you guys anyway?”
“just… tell them your name already. this isn’t a fight club.” suguru rolls his eyes.
saturo shrugs, turning his attention back to you and flashing that million-watt grin. “well, since suguru insists.” he dramatically puts a hand to his chest as if introducing himself for the first time. “i’m gojo satoru. the strongest sorcerer and uh apparently,”—he glances at dazai with a smirk—“your newest competitor for this sweetheart's attention.”
you sigh, clearly having enough of this shitty situation that feels like the setup for a sitcom episode. the ginger looks more frustrated by the minute, and the sight of him glaring daggers at the so-called companions makes you feel slightly bad for him.
“alright, chuuya,” you say, pulling him toward the cashier, ignoring the stunned look on his face. you feel suguru follow, maintaining a calming presence beside you. the cashier looks just as frazzled as chuuya, but you’re determined to end this nightmare once and for all.
“wait, what are you doing?” chuuya protests, glancing back at you with wide eyes. “you don’t have to—”
“It’s fine, really. it happens all the time,” you insist, shooting him a reassuring smile as you pull out your own card. “this is on me. plus you can pay me back in another way, though.”
dazai, overhearing this, perks up like a dog hearing a treat bag crinkle. he sidles over with that ever-present smirk on his face, leaning closer to you. “oh, you accept other ways? you naughty naughtyyy tsk!”
you roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm slightly, and ignore him completely. instead, you focus on the cashier, who looks thoroughly confused but also relieved to see the drama coming to a close. “just run this through, please.”
chuuya crosses his arms, clearly still disgruntled but unable to resist the tide of your determination. suguru shoots him a look that seems to say, “just go with it,” and chuuya huffs, lips pressing into a thin line.
as the cashier processes the transaction, you turn back to huuya. “it's fine, I really get it—everyone has rough days. uh how about you let me help you out a bit? i actually have a project coming up that could use two male leads.”
“it’s a vampire movie,” you explain with a grin spreading across your face as you watch chuuya’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “and honestly, you two fit the aesthetic perfectly. everyone i’ve auditioned so far has been terrible. i could really use your looks and… personalities,” you point toward the redhead and the hot black-haired man.
chuuya raises an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his features. “a vampire movie? seriously?”
“actually, I think you’d be perfect for the role. your features and that hair of yours are perfect for it.” suguro chuckles, nudging chuuya slightly.
you watch as chuuya’s expression softens, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. for the first time, he chuckles, rolling his eyes at suguro. “you wouldn’t believe it, but I’ve had to dress up like one just to save that idiot dazai’s neck.”
suguro chuckles back, shaking his head. “guess it’s time to redeem yourself.”
chuuya huffs but a small smile betrays him. “fine, i’ll consider it. but only if you promise i don’t have to wear any ridiculous costumes.”
“i can’t make any promises,” you say with a teasing grin.
suguro smiles, leaning against the counter. “i’ll accept the offer, too.”
you beam, feeling a wave of relief wash over you finally. “great! i’ll send you both the details later.”
“ugh, why is this so hard?” you can’t help but chuckle at his struggle, it’s not like you're defusing a bomb here—just rehearsing a kiss for a scene.
“chuuya, it’s just a kiss. how hard can it be?” you tease, raising an eyebrow, watching him pace back and forth through the rehearsal room like a caged tiger.
“just a kiss? have you seen your face?” he gestures wildly, and you swear you can see steam rising from his ears. “you make it look way too easy!”
you giggle glancing up as you hear a faint creak from the door only to see geto strolling in and casually leaning against the door frame. you can tell that he just got out of the shower as he holds a towel drying his luxurious black hair. you part your lips trying to take a deep breath as you see his damp hair clinging to his neck in a way that’s... well, distracting, and you're not above admitting that. but as he shakes the water from his hair, your mind drifts back—against your will, mind you—to that moment from a week ago.
technically, it was a regular day. nothing special. just you trying on a costume in one of those annoyingly small fitting rooms. and of course, it had to be the tightest, most ill-fitting costume known to mankind. the zipper might as well have been laughing at your misery as you wrestled with it, stuck halfway like it had a personal problem against you.
after what felt like an hour of struggle, you finally managed to peel the outfit off your body like some weird victory over fabric. and that’s when geto decided to make his grand entrance.
“oh, uh... wrong room,” he said and in that split second, you swore your heart had leaped out of your chest, seeing his eyes go wide, flicking down clearly taking in the delicate lace set you had on and oh, the way he stares makes your cheeks flush hotter than the sun on a july afternoon.
you are friends. just friends. well, maybe more than friends. the three of you are getting along—maybe a little too perfectly, if you are being honest. it is in the small things like how geto always have a lighter handy for you and chuuya, even though he doesn't smoke. you have no idea why, but somehow he’d always flick it open when you reach for a cigarette. that, combined with the lingering glances and casual touches that seems far too intimate to be strictly platonic, says something about where things are heading.
chuuya, on the other hand, is... well, he is oblivious. not that you mind it. he is just so focused on the roles you are rehearsing together that he hasn't picked up on the fact that you’ve been flirting with him for a while now. hell, geto had caught on, but chuuya? the poor guy needs it spelled out. you are going to have to make your moves more obvious—or, in chuuya’s case, maybe drastic.
and if you think back to certain moments—like that night when chuuya got himself absolutely plastered. that redhead brat went from zero to blackout drunk in record time, and of course, it fell on you to drag his sorry ass home. you just couldn't see him stumbling out of a bar, half-laughing, half-cursing, completely out of it and do nothing. to be fair, this all came after his impulsive bank robbery—yeah, you heard that right. a bank robbery. apparently, after the whole boutique incident, chuuya decided he was tired of being broke.
so there you were, guiding this drunken menace through the streets, and contemplating how you could spring him from the charges he was facing. he was barely coherent, mumbling something about the "best wine ever" and how the stars were "calling his name." romantic, right? wrong.
by the time you finally got him inside, chuuya, in all his sottish wisdom, decided clothes were optional. without a word—no hesitation, no second thoughts—he started stripping. pants off, dress shirt shirt flung across the room, and he was about to lose the rest when you jumped in.
“whoa, okay, let’s maybe not do that right now?” you managed to say, trying your best to avert your gaze but also wondering why the hell the universe had put you in this situation. because, let’s be honest, as much as you didn't want to stop him... you really, really should.
and you did stop him, somehow managing to wrestle him back into some kind of decency before he could make things even more harder for you. needless to say, he was so out of it, that he passed out immediately after—half clothed, thank god.
and you thank heavens that he doesn't remember a damn thing the next morning about his one-man strip show.
you blink as the sound of geto’s teasing voice yanking you from your thoughts.
“what’s going on in here? i could hear chuuya’s desperation from down the hall.”
chuuya glares at him. “shut it, geto. we’re just—”
“rehearsing a kiss,” you finish, unable to resist the urge to jump in.
“exactly,” chuuya huffs, crossing his arms defensively and pouting—god he's so adorable. “just a stupid kiss.”
geto smiles softly and steps further into the rehearsal room, “well, it can’t be that bad. show me what you’ve got.”
chuuya rolls his eyes, obviously being tested by geto’s teasing and you can see him mentally gearing up, “alright, but don’t laugh if I mess it up.”
you try to flash him an encouraging smile to ease him a little bit. “just breathe. it’s literally just a kiss.”
he nods stepping closer, you notice his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. he gets within a breath’s distance and suddenly seems frozen, his confidence evaporating as he stumbles over his own thoughts. “uh... so...”
you can't help but chuckle softly, leaning in a little closer to coax him. “come on, chuuya. just focus on my lips. you can do this.”
geto—who had been watching from the side with a knowing smile—decided to step in. “you know, it might help to ease the tension. let me give you a few pointers.
chuuya blinked, caught off guard but quickly nodded. “yeah, sure. anything to make it look… believable.”
without uttering a response, he strides over and gently cupping your sweet pink cheeks, leaning in to press his soft lips against yours, and oh god, it’s perfect. the world fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you and the warmth of his lips. you let out a soft gasp as he slips his tongue between your puffy lips, tilting his head for better acess making your heart race as your mind wonders if you’ve just been seduced in a rehearsal. honestly you’re taken aback by how natural it feels, how perfectly his lips fit against yours.
geto loses himself completely in the kiss, his fingers brushing through your hair as if he’s trying to pull you closer, as the kiss deepens a low hum escapes his wet lips. you feel a rush of pleasure floods through your entire body, and just when you think it can’t get better, he pulls away, slightly breathless and blinking as he locks gaze with your lips for a bit before averting his gaze to chuuya.
well as for chuuya, the ginger stands there, wide-eyed, his lips slightly parted as if he hasn’t fully processed what just happened. “uh… was the tongue really necessary?” he stammers, cheeks flushed an adorable shade of crimson.
geto chuckles, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “now you try.”
chuuya blinks again, still looking all flustered but still wants to get it right. he turns to you, hand sliding to your waist in a way that is awkward but endearing.
“fine… i got this.” his voice is hushed as his take your lower lip between his pink ones, trying to mimic what geto had done. it was just a kiss—chaste, careful, like he was still holding back. but then something clicked within you, the ginger's eyes snaps open before growling into your mouth as you slip your tongue into into his before twirling the two pink muscles together. you glide your delicate fingers through his messy strands, pulling him closer for a few seconds before he pulls back, breathing heavily.
“okay, that was… not acting right?” he says, his brows furrowing as he tries to catch his breath. “is that how it’s supposed to feel?”
geto sighs loudly, shaking his head in exasperation. “chuuya, how didn’t you notice? it’s been going on for a few months already. didn’t you realise it? because if you really want us to… you know...”
“ugh, thank you!!! finally someone who can read my hints,” you exclaim, shooting geto a grateful look.
chuuya blinks a few times, his brows knitting together as he processes what’s just been said. “wait, hold on,” he splutter, looking back and forth between you and geto. “are you both... serious?”
“god, i’m such an idiot. i thought we were just—” he pauses
“just friends?” you finish for him, giving him a playful nudge. “come on, chuuya. i thought i was dropping some pretty big hints.”
the redhead runs a hand through his messy hair, looking both at you and geto. “ so..uh..you really want us to fuck you?” he mutters, lips forming into a slow grin.. “like...both of us?”
“uh, yeah?” you say, biting your lip to suppress a smile watching chuuya and geto exchange glances more like a silent understanding seems to pass between them, and before you know it, geto strides over and lifts you off the ground effortlessly.
“wait, wait, wait!” you squeal, laughter bubbling up as you squirm in his grip. “what are you doing?”
“just a little detour to somewhere more private.” he says, glancing back at chuuya, who raises his eyebrows with a sick lustful grin plastered on his face.
“seriously, you guys, i can walk!” you protest, but the thrill of being swept off your feet makes it hard to sound convincing.
“good, ‘cause we'll make sure you won’t be walking straight for days.” chuuya says as he opens the trailer door, stepping inside with geto following suit.
the sound of a zipper being pulled down is the last thing you hear before you’re instantly pressed between the two men, their eager hands working quickly to strip you bare. the fabric falls away easily revealing more of your skin to their hungry eyes.
“damn,” chuuya breathes seeing your skin pebble once they hit the cold air. “you’re even prettier than i imagined.”
your eyes flutter shut as your head falls back on geto's shoulder and you relax for just a second before you feel chuuya's mouth encircled your nipple, his jot tongue swirling around your areola tasting your sweet skin as he groans softly against it.
“hngh—chuuya…” you whimper fingers tightening in his messy hair.
he releases your nipple with a slick pop, then brings his large palms to knead your pillowy breasts. as geto lifts you slightly, guiding your hips down to press against his hard cock. you open your eyes to glance down, breath hitching at the sight of him resting between your slick folds. you can't help but let out a soft gasp seeing how massive he is, tip coated with pre-cum and veins popping and soaked by your essence. you let out a soft moan as he peppers your neck with hot, wet kisses, goosebumps rise across the plains of your skin.
chuuya leans down easing you into geto's embrace and spreading your plushy thighs wider.
“look at her pussy—fuck s’pretty..” chuuya drawls as he spits on your swollen clit drawing lazy cut shapes on it, the warm fluid drooling between your puffy folds.
he then plunges his spit-slicked fingers past the swell of your plump lips, coaxing you to get even wetter for them as geto's large, gritty hands grip your ass, pulling you back and forth on his throbbing, leaky, fat cock.
“such a good slut, sucking my fingers so well,” your cunt clenches eagerly sucking on chuuya's long fingers, once he's truly satisfied, he pulls out of your cunt before smearing your juices all across your folds.
geto grips his cock in his palm, the leaky tip smearing your juices as he positions himself between your chubby cheeks. you never tried anal before and you never expected yourself to gasp that loud feeling the rush of spit pools against the pad of your tongue from him stretching your hole so perfectly. you cry out in surprise before chuuya swiftly plunges his tongue into your mouth swallowing your lewd noises.
“ffuck, i’ve been waiting for this, babe.” you hear geto's soft moans against the shell of your ear from behind, “... thinking of you in those lacy little things... mngh, you have no idea how many nights i couldn’t sleep, wanting to feel you... s’warm and tight around me.” he grips your juicy ass cheeks tighter, thrusting you down against him, as if he can’t wait any longer.
“ready for me doll?” chuuya breathes against your lips.
“yes ahh please chuu—mngh” you try to respond, but your words dissolve into a moan as you feel him slowly push inside your heated core. you had expected him to be gentle—just not this gentle. he languidly slides deeper and deeper, his head dropping forward to rest against your soft breasts, growling as he buries himself inside you.
you dig your nails into chuuya’s shoulders, forming delicate marks on his pale skin as you use him for leverage to push yourself back onto geto's cock. each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, making you shudder as chuuya fills you completely.
“god, you feel s’ fuckin’ good, doll,”
your moans get higher and higher mingling with their grunts and growling, chuuya finds himself thrusting faster than usual, his cock is pulsing from watching you nastily taking him and his friend's cock so perfectly.
“y-you okay doll?” chuuya breathes, his voice laced with awe as he watches your eyes roll back into your skull.
“ffuhmk—yes please more,” you cry feeling geto's pace starting to match chuuya's fast and hard ones, your body tenses up, pleasured from all angles, both with their girthy huge cocks filling you up to the brim, your vision blurs seeing through haze chuuya's eyes roll back, his fiery strands sticking to his face and neck, red hue blossoming under his skin and rapidly spreading to his chest.
“jesus f-fucking christ, you're so hot.” geto breathes against your skin tilting your head so that he can bite down your bottom lip gently before drawing circles with your tongues making the pair of you an even greater mess, both his hands reach up to cup your pillowy breasts squeezing them as they jiggle between the palm of his hands, “mmngh—sugu~ahh” the two of you moaning in unison.
before you can catch your breath, chuuya grabs your cheeks with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. his lips crash against yours with a bruising intensity in a sloppy kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth as his fingers roughly toy with your clit, drawing sharp, almost painful pleasure from the sensitive nub. “you gonna cum for us, mngh? gonna be a good slut and cum?” he growls, cupid's bows wet from your searing kisses as his fingers cut circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.
the world around you blurs as you're finally pushed over the edge with the repeated brush of their cocks against your spongy spots—a blinding white light floods your vision, static crackling in your ears. chuuya watches in awe, like he's witnessing a miracle, as you cum, your body convulsing with pleasure. at the same time, geto spills inside you, his warm release filling your womb to the brim. the intensity makes you feel like you might pass out, a scream ripping from your throat as the knot in your lower belly unravels with chuuya's twitching cock inside you as he too rocks inside you multiple times riding out his sweet release with force that makes your body shake as he paints your walls with his hot shooting cum filling you up perfectly. you three reach your peak together, perfectly in sync.
the world gradually comes back into focus, as you three try to calm down from your release. geto is the first to pull out, and as he does, you feel his cum slowly drip from your body. chuuya follows, watching in awe your ruined holes leaking with their seeds as your legs tremble from the overwhelming pleasure.
chuuya chuckles breathlessly, wiping the sweat from his brow, and gently rubs a hand over your thigh. “i’ll get the bath ready for ya doll,” he murmurs, voice still rough from the intensity of his orgasm, before standing up and heading towards the bathroom.
you nod, watching his bare form head to the bathroom as geto leans in close, pressing gentle, reassuring kisses to your lips while his strong hands tenderly massage your trembling legs. “relax, baby” he whispers between kisses, his lips still deliciously sloppy, “you did so well. let me take care of you.” he strokes your skin soothingly, bringing you down from the high as you try to catch your breath.
you give geto a tired but grateful smile, your chest still heaving, “t-thank you, sugu,” you murmur softly, watching his lips curl into a satisfied grin, and he continues to massage your legs, his fingers easing away the lingering tension.
TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @whiteelovex @dottedhalfnotes @victoria1676 @ghostedwriting @a-trashbag @bakedpotato12 @ambervanth @sakui1 @iams0up @osamucide @lighthoonie @chuuyascumsock
#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#bsd x reader smut#bsd#chuuya#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs chuuya#chuuya x reader#chuuya x reader smut#geto x reader smut#geto suguru#jjk geto#dazai bungou stray dogs#bsd dazai#chuuya nakahara#bsd chuuya#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#suguru x reader#saturo x reader#dazai x reader#dazai osamu x reader
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Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)
DC x Pjo
Part 6
This had like a huge timeskip
___________________________
It's been 3 months Since you decided to stay at camp
It's been so good, the camp is quiet, since it's school year right now, it's currently October, the weather outside doesn't really affect the camp but it's chilly, the good kind
Percy and Annabeth have been sending you photographs of their schools, since you can't go to school anymore
Because you're "dead"
Still even if you're not studying, no way you're gonna let them get ahead of you, so you spent an entire day carving an Athena statue
You got a bunch of food from the Cornucopia as offerings
Then you pray "Lady Athena, may you please guide me, I need books on grade 6 studies.... Please?"
For good measure you decided to place a drachma on the statue
"I- I want to study... And uhhh, I've never really prayed to a god before- I mean what kind of god would - okay going off topic, I want to learn because I don't want to feel helpless anymore, I've been there, never again, so if- you could help me... I'd appreciate it, but you don't have to if you don't want- sooo... Yeah I guess, do I say amen? Um bye"
"didn't think a child of Aphrodite would ever be interested in learning"
"AH!" You yelp as a voice appears behind you
" 'Thena can you not sneak up on children, that's fucking creepy"
You tilt your head "Mr. D???"
"kid next time you want to study just bother Chiron, there's legal procedures to this kinds of things" he groaned
You were about to apologize but then Athena spoke up for you "Nonsense, if she wants an education is it not reasonable to get it from the best?"
She turns to you "kid, what do you want to know about?"
With great determination you say "I want to know everything I can manage to learn"
"really?" She smirked
"Yes. Whatever you can teach me, how to use an abacus, what body part do you stab someone to kill them in an instant, how to crochet, whatever you can teach"
"yeah while you two are at it can you teach her how to undo my punishment" Mr D opens another new diet coke
______________________________
"Gods- Wait crap" you collapse on the floor
4 fucking hours now, she's been training you for four hours, Mr D had finished 55 diet cokes watching and laughing at you
Out of every fight, she wins, of course she does, out of every train, sparring, archery and everything she made you try
"new rule, all you have to do is make sure this cloth touches me, whether it be a momentary graze or wrap it around me, it just needs to make contact, and I will try to push you out of bounds" she says pulling out a blue cloth and a bunch of rocks and twigs form a square
You didn't think it'd be easy, at all, she'd dodge and dodge and dodge
You lunge at her and change direction to where she's going, but she flies instead
The sun is going down, and Athena flies down and kicks you near the bounds
"AHHH! ow! Shit!" Your form looks disfigured, your arm is under your body and it doesn't look good
You cry, tears coming out as you try to not scream "I fell the wrong way, I-" you sob on the ground
"Shit, Thena what did you do?!?" Mr D stands up
"I'm sorry- I didn't, help please...." You scream in pain
Athena teleports to you and kneels, she turns to Mr D "I'll call on Apollo to heal her arm and-" she stops talking
She stops talking as she feels a silky texture on her cheeck
With wide eyes she looks at you, and your smug smile, that stupid smile
"I finally won against you" you stand up and dust yourself off
You can't beat the goddess of wisdom, but- you can trick her
"huh..." She says
Mr D spikes his diet coke on the ground "(name) go fuck yourself"
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I'm about to take a test rn, it's mathematics 😀
Anyways enjoy the chapter:3
@delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven
#dc universe#percy jackon and the olympians#dcu#percy jackson#yandere#percy pjo#yandere platonic#yandere batfam#warmyanderepjoxdc
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THEY GO TOO FAR 𖹭 엔하이픈 ( reaction ) !
genre yandere 𖹭 warning dark fic, mentions of hitting , blood , starvation , psychological torture — parings OT7! enhypen x fem reader | back to library .
request: what about yandere!enha when they've gone too far ? like punished you/messed with you enough to the point the person is non-verbal/fainted/really mad at them etc.
— what happens enhypen goes too far with a punishment?
「 authors note 𖹭 」
﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ
he doesn't think he went too far , in fact he got you exactly where he wanted — all to himself , that's why he did this , this why he isolated you from your friends, your family; anyone who loved you — cause only he could love you, you were his. all you did now was follow him around the house , not wanting to leave his side, you even sat on the toilet while he showered. he couldn't even leave the house without you screaming for him to stay , and that made him smile wickedly , he went too far and he loved it. "pl-please don't leave me." you sobbed , grabbing his arms , he wasn't even going anywhere, he just wanted to see what you were gonna do , smiling , he closed the door , pulling your shaking body into his arms as you begged him not to leave.
"see how easily i can leave , remember that."
﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ
when you did something he didn't like, he withheld everything from you; shower , food water for as long as he saw fit , he even ordered the maids and everyone else to ignore you. this went on as long as he saw fit , mostly a week , but he wanted to try and prolong it to prove a point to you. — until one day he heard a thud and scream of a maid , you had fainted. "shit." he pulled the tie of his suit. "don't just stand there pick her up take her to the room , call the doctor." he sighed. "how long did she go without eating?" He asked ,everyone was silent. "how long!" he shouted. "about a week and a half." he cursed , he went too far.
"stupid girl i told you to listen to me , call the fucking doctor."
﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ
jake knew he'd gone too far, you didn't care anymore. you didn't cry when he cut himself anymore , you didn't stay up for days making sure he didn't hurt himself , you were desensitized to his actions and he didn't know what to do , you were gonna leave him for sure now , he no longer had control. "I'll really kill myself this time , I promise." you stood there watching him bleed from his arms , every emotion flowing through your brain — you snapped , picking up the knife. "fine." he watched you put the blade to your arm , slicing it. "y-yn." you screamed as he began to cry. "shut up , shut up." you shouted at him. "you wanna die? you can't live without me? let's die then." you said , he was watching you go crazy.
he didn't know what to do , he'd gone way too far.
﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ
sunghoon was short tempered at times , and you both knew it was only a matter of time before he went too far with his punishments , and he did. "su-sunghoon please." you could see he face turning red. "i'm sorry." he didn't hear you , all he saw was you hitting him and running towards the door , it was locked and he had the key , but he was pissed. "sunghoon please im sorry." all he wanted to do was push you to the floor , but he pushed too hard , you fell to the ground not before hitting your head on the table , knocking you out cold. "shit." he ran his fingers through his hair , checking your pulse— you were still breathing. he picked your body up off the floor taking you back to his room.
he actually felt bad this time
﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ
it happened too fast , you were leaving out the door, you were gonna leave him all alone , you were falling for his manipulation tactics anymore , you didn't pack anything ready to leave , he blacked out , like everything was in flashes; one minute your hand was on the door knob , another flash and the lamp was in his hand and he was behind you , then another flash and you were on the floor , he'd hit you. "oh no." he dropped the lamp , tears welling in his eyes , you were breathing but you were out cold . "im so sorry." he sobbed , holding you in his arms. "yo-you were gonna leave me , i couldn't let you go." he cried. "I'm so sorry." he moved you to the bed.
"i-im sorry i went too far."
﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ
so maybe he left you in the isolated room too long; normally it was only a week, he knew you could take it— so then what about 2 weeks? 2 and a half weeks? 3 weeks? no you couldn't take it , and jungwon soon found that once he stopped hearing you scream , when he went to give you food , you barely ate it , then you stopped eating all together. he started to fear you were dead , he didn't want that , so he opened the door , where you were balled up in a corner , hair messy , you whimpered from the light shining into the room. "hey come on." he said, you didn't move , he tried to come near you , but you tried to bury yourself into your knees , muttering im sorry over and over again , until he picked you up from the floor taking you to his room.
when you crawled into a ball silently sobbing to yourself , he realized he went too far.
﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ
ni-ki doesn't think he went too far , he didn't even twist your arm that hard , why are you crying like a baby? "it's not broken , get up." you don't get up , so he grabs you by that arm which makes you scream in pain , he drops you on the couch. "shit." he realizes it might actually be broken. "i told you not to leave again and you did , this is your fault." he said , how the hell was he gonna explain this to a doctor? he won't , cause he's not taking you to the doctor, well not at first. "go take a pain killer and stop screaming before someone hears you." he only takes you to a doctor because he's sick and tired of hearing you scream.
"fine i'll take you , just shut up."
#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen reactions#enhypen headcanons#kpop x reader#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung scenarios#jay park x reader#jay park scenarios#jake sim x reader#jake sim scenarios#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon scenarios#sunoo x reader#sunoo scenarios#jungwon scenarios#yang jungwon x reader#ni ki x reader#ni ki scenarios
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Written in the Stars
Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 1
Word Count- 4.3k
Warnings- Swearing, blood, death, panic attacks, mentions of the confederacy (ew)
A/N- This will be a slow-burn series.
The reader has a brother, I know it’s not very X Reader, but it’s to help the storyline.
I brush down the black tie my younger brother is wearing, the satin fabric making me slightly cringe.
“Are you sure you’re not going to go? We can go show those stuffy old bitches how to really party.” I let out a small huff at Theo’s question, shaking my head amusingly.
“I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of Mystic Falls’ elite. Hearing them talk about how they’re so proud of their southern heritage,” Both my brother and I let out sounds of disgust, “the Confederates lost get over it.”
Theo stands in front of the hallway mirror and goggles himself. Where I am rather introverted, my younger brother is most likely the most self-confident person I have ever met. He has called himself, “A gift to the human race,” on more than one occasion. So it takes him about a good 9 minutes to gaze at himself in the mirror before we walk out the front door to the car.
We drive in silence, or I drive in silence as Theo hypes himself up in the passenger side mirror.
After a 10-minute drive that seems to have taken at least twice that time, we finally reach the long driveway of the mayor’s house.
“Why are you even going to this masquerade thing anyways, you hate dances,” I ask him as we wait behind a line of cars.
“Tyler is my football captain, and this thing is to honor his father, I’m here for my fellow man,” Theo presses a fist to his chest and puts on a fake sympathy look.
“So you’re actually doing it because you want to get on Tyler’s good side so he puts you on Varsity?”
Theo’s sympathetic look drops and is replaced with a shit-eating grin, “You know me so well.”
As we get to the front of the line of cars, I hum along to the Coldplay song playing on the radio.
“So what are you going to do while waiting for me?”
I pull my car up to the front of the “house” which is really just a mansion.
“I have a feeling you won’t be here very long, or stay out of trouble so I’m just going to park somewhere and wait for you.”
My brother does a look that looks like he agrees with me about him getting into trouble and nods his head in agreement. I put the car in park and Theo unbuckles his seat and gets out, straightening out his suit as he goes.
“Bye nerd, don’t wait up!” Theo yells as he climbs the stairs walking past Mystic Falls’ elite. I let out a sigh and pull away to find a parking spot.
—
My fingers graze the pages of my book as I glance at the time, Theo has been here for over an hour now and hasn’t shown any signs of leaving. I bring my back up to continue reading when a figure in the distance catches my eye. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of who I believe is Elena Gilbert. Elena’s a popular girl in my grade, who I’ve probably had two interactions within my short time here in Mystic Falls. I don’t know much about her other than that she’s dating some guy named Stefan, her parents died in a car accident and her brother is in the same grade as Theo. Theo and Elena’s brother don’t hang out either because Theo says he’s a “stoner emo.” Theo’s never been one to keep his thoughts to himself.
Elena seems to walk with a slight limp which makes me slightly concerned but nothing to make me go out and try to talk to her. I hate talking to people in general, especially kids my age. Elena has always seemed nice but I’m not taking the risk.
Or at least I wasn’t until I saw a man in a mask start following behind her. I may hate interacting with people but I would never let another girl get attacked if I had the power to stop it. The next thing I know I’m hopping out of my car and jogging behind them.
“Elena behind you!” I yell to her, but I freeze as the man hits her and knocks her to the ground. I let out a yelp as I turned to try to get help but a sharp pain hits my skull and everything goes black.
—-
“Y/N, can you hear me?” A voice comes from above me and a wave of nausea washes over me. My eyes open and close a dozen times trying to get used to the bright light before I can focus on the person in front of me. Elena Gilbert. Why is Elena Gilbert in my bedroom? I mean she’s really pretty and all I just thought she had a boyfriend. I’m not a homewrecker.
“Oh thank god you’re awake!” Elena whisper-yells to me as she brushes a piece of my hair behind my head and grimaces when she looks at my forehead. She brings her hand back and a wave of fear and disgust washes over me as I see her hand covered in a red liquid. Blood. My blood. I try to bring my hand up but Elena stops me.
“Don’t exert yourself we don’t want it to bleed more, okay?” She gives me a small smile but something about it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand why until I turn my gaze away from her and look at our surroundings. Dirt-covered walls, glass-covered floors, and a mildew stench are what take focus. I’ve always been sensitive to smells but with the addition of my raging migraine, I am fighting the urge to keep down the rising bile in my throat.
My breathing starts to quicken and I can feel the start of a panic attack starting to make an appearance.
“Elena, where are we?” I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t understand what I was saying since my words seemed to be jumbling together.
Elena glances around us and gives me a solemn look.
“I don’t know, I woke up here a little while ago before I was knocked back out by the people that took us. I’m truly sorry about this Y/N, I would never wish for you to be a part of this.”
I furrow my eyebrows at her last comment as if she were responsible for the reason we were taken.
“It’s not your fault,” I shake my head and start tapping my fingers together one by one. It’s a thing I do whenever my anxiety gets too strong, almost as a way to ground me.
Elena’s eyebrows mirror mine and she goes to say something but a young man with shaggy hair walks in.
“Oh goody, the other ones awake. How are you doing sleeping beauty?”
The man starts to walk over to me with a look in his eyes that makes the bile in my throat inch even closer to the surface. But within another second Elena stands from beside me on what I can see now is a couch and blocks me from the man’s view.
“I’m the one you want, Y/N is innocent, just let her go.”
I want to back Elena up and defend her too but with the migraine and the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now being verbal isn’t something I see happening in my current future.
“You’re right Dopalicious, she’s not, but I can’t just let her go, what if she were to go and warn those friends of yours? Can’t let that happen now can we?”
Elena goes to stand her ground but within a blink of an eye, Elena is shoved backward and lands on the other side of the couch. I jump backward at the action which gives the man the opportunity to come in front of me. I start trembling as I look up to him I try to push farther back into the couch but I’m squished into it as far as I can go.
“Stay away from me,” Finally able to find somewhat of my voice again. This doesn’t seem to scare away the man, and honestly, I don’t blame him. My voice sounded like it came from a scared 5-year-old.
“Just a taste, I’m starving.” My mouth opens to question what he says but a millisecond later I feel myself being grabbed and a sharp piercing attacks the left side of my neck. I’m hyperventilating and screaming at the same time somehow as I hear Elena’s yells from beside us.
“Don’t touch her!” Elena’s yell comes from beside us and I’m thrown away back onto the couch. I’m disorientated as I look up to see the man before me rubbing his cheek and Elena standing next to him holding her right hand. She’d punched him. My vision strays from Elena’s red knuckles back up to the man, who has something dripping from his mouth. My chest feels like it locks up as I stare at the liquid dripping, everything seems to be going in slow motion for me as I watch the drops start at the man's chapped lips to the drops of blood falling onto the cracked hardwood floors. Wait, blood. He has blood dripping from his mouth. Had Elena punched him that hard? I start to believe that possibility until I feel a wetness drip between my chest.
My already shaking hand comes up to my chest as I swipe a finger along the liquid. My vision blurs as the red liquid drips from my fingertip down into the palm of my hand. I can’t register Elena’s voice as she kneels in front of me and presses something to my neck. The blood coating my hand is all I can see and smell.
“Y/N….Y/N! Just focus on my voice ok, breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” A cool hand is pressed onto the side of my face and I close my eyes at the embrace.
“Ok that’s good, I’m going to stand you up to get a better look at your neck ok?”
I feel like I’m running on auto-pilot or something else is controlling my body and mind as I stand up and grip Elena’s upper arms to keep myself steady. Elena returns the pink fabric from my neck and leans down to glance at the wound.
“Ok, it’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Just keep this here and it’ll help control the bleeding.”
I must still be in shock because Elena has to bring the shirt to my hand, wrap my fingers around it, and finally press my hand into my neck. The shock of pain washes through me and brings me back to reality. My vision can’t seem to focus on one thing for too long as my eyes keep darting from the blood on the floor, my blood, to the look on Elena’s face, to the man standing behind us with a scowl on his ugly face. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. This sequence continues until another person enters the room, a woman.
“He’s here.” The woman with a pixie cut says, her voice seemingly scared.
The man next to us shifts his scowl into a look of pure fear.
“This was a mistake,” He rushes over to the woman and shakes his head.
“No, I told you I would get us out of this. You have to trust me,” She tries to talk him down which only seems to freak him out more.
“No! He wants me dead Rose,”
The woman points at Elena, “He wants her more.” I glance to Elena who is standing in front of me slightly as if to hide me from the two strangers or cannibals. Since I’ve calmed down momentarily and I’ve begun to stop the tears that had unbeknownst to me had fallen on my cheeks, I’ve realized that I’ve been kidnapped by cannibals, that being the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.
The two cannibals start arguing about some man but I turn to Elena who looks almost as scared as I feel.
“What’s going on Elena, who’s coming?” I whisper to her.
Elena turns her head slightly to me and gives me a frown and a shake of her head.
“A man named Elijah, but don’t worry ok,” Elena grabs my free hand and holds it in her own, “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore ok?”
I nod trying to find comfort in her words but the girl in front of me is 17 years old and maybe 120 pounds I don’t see how she’s going to protect us both from two cannibals and whatever mega cannibal these two are terrified of. I don’t know if the other guy is a cannibal but using context clues I’m guessing he is.
“What are we?” The woman’s voice brings my attention back to them as I see her grab his arms. This seems to calm the man down.
“We’re family. Forever.”
I might’ve found this endearing if it weren’t for the fact the man had my blood drying on his upper lip and they were literal cannibals.
A loud knock startles all four of us as Elena and I both shoot each other wary glances. Our hands are still intertwined. I don’t usually like being touched but given the circumstances I can let this slide.
The woman looks over at Elena and me as Elena slightly turns her head, “You’re scared.” Elena comments. The woman says something else to her friend and then runs up the stairs
—
What seems like forever of waiting and pacing around is broken up by footsteps coming from the top of the banister. I can feel Elena freeze up from beside me as we both look up to see a man in a suit staring down at her. The man has dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face. Why is this cannibal not ugly? Wrong Turn had it all wrong. We all stand there watching Elena and the suited cannibal stare at each other. I can feel Elena’s shaking hand in my own and try to comfort her by squeezing her hand to let her know I’m right beside her. That is until the man transports himself from the top of the banister to in front of Elena in the blink of an eye. The movement has me losing my balance and falling back onto the couch.
No one seems to notice me as my panic attack starts to build up as I try to understand how this is possible. How could he have been that fast, it’s impossible. Oh god, I'm going to throw up.
“And who is this?” A deep voice comes from above me and my stomach flips at the sound. Defiantly going to throw up.
“She’s no one. She has nothing to do with this, just please leave her alone.”
Hearing Elena’s voice makes me raise my head and I regret it instantly because I lock eyes with the suited monster who is now standing above me staring down at me. The man’s face instantly goes slack as his eyes meet mine, a look of recognition seems to pass through his dark eyes as they move fast across my face. The man opens and closes his mouth many times as if he can’t quite find the right words to say. The slack expression from before softens into something that makes my stomach flip again. This guy is so going to kill me when I throw up on his expensive ass shoes. His soft, dark pink lips curve up at the corners slightly.
“You’re real.”
These are the first words to come out of the man’s mouth. Everyone else in the room seems to know just as much as me with what he’s talking about because they all have looks of confusion on their faces. Feels somewhat comforting to be on the same page as everyone else for once.
The man doesn’t once take his eyes off of me this entire time though, “What is your name, Elskan?”
I freeze under his stare and try to avert my eyes, this gives Elena the ability to step in for me.
“Her name is Y/N,” I look to the man as he mouths my name slightly to himself as if he wants to know how it sounds on his tongue, “Please don’t hurt her Elijah, she doesn’t even know about the supernatural, I’ll go with you willingly.”
Elena’s words make me freeze up. What does she mean by supernatural? I flinch as the man, Elijah, brings his hand up. This stops him for a moment.
“I would never harm you. You have my word on that.” I can only sit there frozen as he cups my face with his hand and uses his thumb to brush a stray tear away that must’ve fallen during one of my many panic attacks. He seems delighted at the moment until the soft expression he has on his face darkens into something that makes that bile rise even farther up. His eyes dart from the top of my head and drag themselves down to my chest and neck. I try to move away but his hand has a soft but firm hold on my face.
“Who did this to you?”
My eyebrows furrow at his question, and I must’ve not answered quickly enough because he turns to glare at Elena. Which makes her flinch.
“The head injury is from the kidnapping and then the bite is from um,” she glances towards my neck and then to Trevor who looks like he’s about to internally combust. She goes silent again at Elijah’s stare and he turns his attention back towards me. The glare was long gone and replaced once again with a softer look.
“I see. Here,” I have to swallow back down the bile as I watch the man rip into his wrist and put it in front of my face expectantly. I sit there in horror and quickly look to Elena who doesn’t look as surprised as she defiantly should given that this man just BIT HIMSELF.
“It’s true Y/N, it’ll heal you.”
I open my mouth to say something which must’ve somehow been an ok to the man as he presses his wrist to my open mouth. I’m about to push him off, or at least try, but stop at the heavenly liquid that spills into my mouth. Elijah brings his other hand up to brush back my fallen hair.
“Good girl, Elskan.”
Elijah removes his wrist and I sit there silently staring at my lap as I realize what I had just done. I just drank fucking blood, and I liked it?!??! Oh god, does this make me a cannibal now?
Elijah seems to be fighting an inner battle as he moves his eyes away from mine and onto the man behind us. Elena and I watch before us as Elijah approaches the scared man/cannibal thing. Thing because I’m not sure what the actual hell is going on here.
“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. Truly very sorry.”
Trevor says with a bowed head as Elijah circles him. Almost how a predator would circle its prey.
“Well, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah responds but something in his tone doesn’t sit right with me.
“Yes, yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina. And I failed you.”
“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah glances at him and then up to the woman, “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor…”
Elijah comes to stand in front of the man, “Where was your loyalty?”
“I beg your forgiveness.”
The oxygen in the room seems to be dwindling as everyone watches the interaction.
“So granted.”
The deep breath I was to let out is replaced by a scream and I can only watch in horror as Elijah throws his hand over to the man who decapitates him. A heart-wrenching wail comes from Rose and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from the body-less head that is lying in front of me.
“I’m going to-” Vomit spits from my mouth and onto the floor in front of me, the burning from the back of my throat causes tears to build up and block my vision. I feel someone lift my hand and hold it away from my face. For a second I thought it was Elena before Elijah’s voice came from beside me.
“I’m truly sorry, Elskan. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.”
I lift my head to stare at him and find him kneeling right next to me. He reaches into his front pocket grabs a fancy napkin and wipes my mouth with it. Not seeming disgusted just saddened. He wraps his hand in my mind and stands me up.
“We can leave now, we have quite the journey ahead of us,” Elijah leads me over to where Elena is standing and motions for her to follow.
“No! What about the moonstone?” She questions him.
He stands in front of her with a small scowl, “What do you know about the moonstone?”
“I know that you need it. And I know where it is. I can help you get it”
Elijah nods his head, “Tell me where it is.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
Elijah’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he glances back at Rose, “Are you negotiating with me?”
Rose just shakes her head and tells him she doesn’t know anything. Elijah then turns back around to stare at Elena for a moment before scowling and reaching up to her necklace, ripping it off.
“What is this vervain doing around your neck,” He throws the necklace behind him and grabs Elena by the neck, dropping my hand in the process. I go to try to get her away but Elijah shoots me a warning look that has me freezing in place, “Tell me where the moonstone is.”
In a monotone voice, Elena replies, “In the tomb underneath the church ruins.”
“What is it doing there?”
“It’s with Kathrine.”
The rest of their interaction is cut short when a glass shatters from somewhere upstairs. Elijah comes over to me and grabs me by my waist bringing me into him almost protectively.
“What was that?” He asks Rose.
“I don’t know.”
“Who else is in this house?’’ To which he gets the same response.
Elijah grabs Elena quite harshly with his free hand and guides both of us to the top of the banister. His hand never moved from the top of my hip. Once we make it to the entryway something rushes by us, Elijah pushes Elena off into Rose’s arms but never drops his hold on me.
“Up here.”
“Down Here.”
A voice call from the top and bottom of the stairs caught all of our attention. Elijah lifts his hand from my hip and motions for me to go over to Rose.
“Don’t let her out of your sight.” He warns her as he moves to the staircase.
A moment goes by before something flies through the air and pierces itself through Elijah’s hand. I let out a yelp but Elijah doesn’t even seem fazed.
My vision is blurred for a moment as I now standing next to Rose with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in front of us. He motions with his finger to be quiet. Ya as if I was going to say anything anyway.
“Excuse me,” Elijah’s voice comes from below, “To whom it may concern. You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. And you can’t. You hear that? I repeat, you cannot beat me. So I want the girls on the count of three, or heads will roll.”
The man who has his hands on Rose’s and I’s mouths moves his head to glance at Elijah downstairs.
“Do we understand each other?”
“I’ll come with you,” I perk up at Elena’s voice. Wondering what the actual hell she was doing. But the blue-eyed man in front of me shakes his head at me telling me not to move.
“Just please don’t hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out.”
“What game are you playing with me? Where is Y/N? I won’t be leaving without her.” Elijah’s skeptical voice questions her. There’s a sound a medal, and then a loud boom, before Elijah lets out a yell. The sound for some reason makes my chest feel like it wants to cave in on itself. Rustling and fighting sounds come from below us before the man holding Rose and I leave. Rose runs after him, but I can’t seem to get my feet to work so I just sit there on the dusty floor staring at the wall peeling wallpaper in front of me.
A few moments pass before I hear Elena’s voice along with two unfamiliar men, one who I’m assuming is the blue-eyed guy from before.
“Where is Y/N,” Elena asks.
“Are you talking about that girl that smells like vomit?” A snarky voice questions her. If I hadn’t just gotten kidnapped and had one of the worst days of my life, I might take offense but I did just get kidnapped and honestly, I do smell like vomit so he’s not wrong.
“I think she’s over there.”
Footsteps get closer to me as I look up with tears in my eyes at Elena. She gives me a small smile before kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.
“What is happening Elena?”
“I’ll explain everything if you want me to ok? Let’s just get out of here first ok?”
Elena stands up and reaches down her hand for me to take, and with a deep breath, I do.
#author#athenamikaelson#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaleson imagine#thecwshows#the originals#klaus x reader#the vampire diares imagine#theoriginalsimagines#thevampirediaries#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikaelson#stefan x elena#stefan salvatore#damon salvatore#the vampire diaries#the originals x reader
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Ok I posted about this in anger a while back but I'm gonna say it more intelligently and actually tag it because I think it's something people need to hear. Something that bugs me about how people talk about the morality of the men in this game is that a lot of analysis totally glosses over Anya's motives and what she actually asks of people, and in doing so once again strips her of agency. Like. The reason Curly sucks isn't because he failed to properly punish Jimmy, it's because he ignored Anya in favor of her abuser. He didn't listen to her regarding how to move forward, he didn't give her a way to protect herself. No matter what he would have done to Jimmy, Anya is still traumatized and in danger, and that's the most important point of failure.
I think a lot of people are projecting a revenge fantasy on Anya, and while I'm not gonna argue about the validity of revenge here, for Anya specifically I think that's a major mischaracterization. She's the one who says that our worst moments don't make us monsters. And while yes, this could just be her trying to appease her abusers, she still doesn't strike me as a particularly vindictive person. She's a nurse, symbolically in a role associated with care and healing. Before the crash, she seems like a very soft-spoken and restrained person. Hell, she can't stand giving Curly his meds because she feels so bad for him. There isn't really a point in the game where she calls for violence at all. And even if punishing Jimmy or Curly is morally correct (subjective), saying that it's what anyone Should have done still glosses over Anya's wants and needs. It still centers the abuser, even in vitriol.
It's especially weird to see people judge Swansea on these grounds, because like... We don't know what his dynamic with Anya was like. We don't actually know what she said to him, if she even confided about her pregnancy or the SA at all! I honestly think Swansea's actions give more credence to the idea that Anya herself wanted a peaceful resolution. The whole "Oh, I'm holding it together" thing, him becoming more hostile after speaking with Anya... He waits until Daisuke AND ANYA are dead before trying to kill Jimmy. I think the obvious reading is that he wants Jimmy dead, but Anya asked him not to do anything crazy. Genuinely, I think Anya just wanted to be safe. She wanted out above everything. She didn't want more violence. The only violence she commits is against herself in the end, in order to escape this hell her coworkers made for her.
And like. Swansea is kind of the only one who actually did try to protect Anya in a meaningful way. I won't say that he couldn't have done more for her - all of the men on that ship failed her in some regard - but Swansea intentionally keeps the axe out of Jimmy's hands. He keeps the pod a secret, probably to give to Daisuke, but we can't say anything for sure. I joke that Swansea should have killed Jimmy from the start, but if we're being real that would have been an insane thing to do given what the characters know. But Swansea isn't the point of this post. Like. Idk I just think it's really bizarre that when people discuss Anya's assault, they still do it from the perspective of the men involved. It's weird and I don't like it. Like people have said before me: it's not enough to hate abusers, you have to love victims.
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Trapped in the forest with a feral John Price could be hot 🔥
WOOF bestie you are so right 😩
Warnings: Non-con to dub-con, John Price is stupidly big. Fem!Reader.
“I know you’re out there, birdie.”
God, you hate his taunting voice, the lilt that makes it sound like he’s singing to you. You hate your friends for abandoning you in this creepy fucking forest, you hate the way every dead leaf manages to crunch beneath your feet no matter how quiet you try to be. You’ve been sneaking away from the giant man for what feels like hours but his voice never gets further away, always right on the brink of being too damn close.
“Nothin’ to be afraid of, girlie, jus’ wanna take care o’ya.”
His call is loud, somewhere behind you, before you hear a thud and then silence follows. You stop dead in your tracks—did he fall down and knock himself out? Maybe you ought to check, make sure he’s really down and no longer on your trail. Slowly, you turn around and take a few steps where you remember the thud to have sounded, but there’s no body slumped over itself. At least, nothing human.
You gasp at the sight of a whimpering dog with an injured paw, instantly kneeling down to try and help the poor pup. You hold her paw in your hand to examine it but there’s nothing wrong, no thorns or cuts in her pads. You furrow your eyebrows and pet behind her ears, cooing softly to her.
“What’s wrong, baby? Where’s your-”
Your sentence is interrupted by strong arms lifting your body up, one hand covering your mouth. You shriek, clawing at the man’s hairy arms as you try to kick free from his hold. It’s useless—he’s so much stronger than you, and the pain you’re inflicting doesn’t even register in his brain.
He knows what he wants, and he’s going to have it.
The ‘injured’ dog stands from her place on the ground and sprints away at the man’s command, full weight on her paw. Your stomach flips at the realization. He used his dog as a trap.
“P-please don’t hurt me! I’ll do- I’ll do anything, please!” You sputter, fat tears streaming down your face as the man lays you on the ground.
“Not gonna hurt ya. No, could never hurt my pretty girl, never,” the man murmurs, and despite the fact that he’s currently binding your wrists to the tree behind you with his belt, his words are gentle and seemingly sincere.
Once your hands are secure, he leans down to kiss you, frowning when you flinch and turn away before his lips are able to meet yours. He grunts and tries again, but when you repeat the action he cups your jaw in one large hand, keeping you still and finally pressing his mouth to yours. He tastes like tobacco and smells of it too, earthy and dewy much like the grass he’s trapped you against.
“Atta girl, jus’ submit t’me.”
There’s a wide smile on his face when he pulls back, thumbing away a string of saliva that remains on your bottom lip. Then his hands trail down your body, ripping open your tank top and pulling your tits out from the cups of your bra. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your traitorous throat when he wraps his lips around one nipple and sucks, pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger.
“N-no, please…” you cry, trying to kick him away, but he just growls and suckles harder in response.
Damn your body for not fighting him harder, and damn your pussy for getting so wet from this. His hot tongue trails down your stomach while his large hands expertly undo your pants and pull them as well as your knickers off of you completely. He even tosses your shoes and socks aside, kissing his way from your toes all the way to your inner thighs, then planting his lips right over your clit. He groans against your cunt and you can see the way his hips buck against the ground as he tastes you.
In a similar fashion to the way he’d sucked your nipple, he does the same to your swollen bud, circling his tongue over it repeatedly. You’re gushing out abundances of your arousal much to your dismay—and his delight—and he dips his tongue into your entrance to drink it all up. You hate how good it feels, how tight the coil in your belly has gotten, how close you are to the edge. He slides his tongue through your folds and sucks on your clit once more and then you’re screaming, trying to fight off the euphoric waves as they overtake you.
The man’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he slurps up all of your juices. As quickly as he’d started, he pulls away, and those dexterous hands shove down his pants to allow his stupidly fat cock to bounce out. It’s obviously heavy, fully erect and yet still drooping away from his soft stomach, curved and slick with precum. You whimper at the sight, shaking your head as more pleas escape you.
“No! No, please don’t, sir, please… I’ll do anything…” You sob, legs still trying to kick at him even as he parts your thighs and settles himself between them.
“You’ll take my cock,” he responds gruffly, a low moan leaving his throat when he shoves the tip past the barrier of your pussy.
The stretch burns like hell and you scream at the intrusion, wrists desperately trying to tug free from their restraints so you can shove him off. It wouldn’t have worked, anyway, not with his strength and the determination he has to claim you. With a grunt and a hard thrust, he sinks all the way inside, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before he’s rutting into you wildly.
“Ah, so fuckin’ tight. Knew ya would be. Knew ya’d fit me so fuckin’ well.”
Cold sweat trickles down his freckled face and drips onto your cheeks, making you flinch every time you feel a drop make contact. His dick is stuffing you so fucking full, and all you can do is lay there and take it. The initial pain is gone and in its place is a revolting pleasure, one that makes you roll your hips against his. The man smiles proudly, using the backs of your knees to push your legs up to your chest.
“Yeah, feels good, don’t it, girlie? Can feel your cunt clenchin’ ‘round me. Fuckin’ cum on my cock. Do it. Give it t’me.”
His pace quickens tenfold, making your vision go white as his fat tip bullies your g-spot with every thrust. Your entire body convulses when you climax but he doesn’t relent, fucking you through your high and overstimulating you in the process. It doesn’t matter to the man mounting you, his eyes so far back in his skull you’re not sure they’ll ever return to their normal position. An animalistic growl escapes his throat and then you feel ribbons of hot cum spurting inside of you, filling you to the brim.
You hate the way his cum leaks out of you when he pulls out, spilling to the ground and wasting all of his hard work. After he tucks his dick away and gives you a passionate, tender kiss, he releases you from the restraints and scoops you up into his big burly arms, carrying you back to his little shack where his actor of a pup is waiting for him with a wagging tail.
Maybe the forest isn’t so bad, after all.
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