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#wait that happens often in this damn series
tategaminu · 11 months
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Callum is so handsome I hope they reveal his father as the hottest man ever
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aphelea · 1 year
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It appears that I may have been a dumbass
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talaok · 7 months
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Daddy knows best
Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader
Summary: Joel has given you homework, and although you've never watched porn, one particular thing you see does pique your interest (this is part of a series but can be read alone)
Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence, dub-con, Perv Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| fingering, squirting, anal play, one lil pussy slap, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, allusion to oral sex (m), he takes a pic, and LOADS of daddy-kink (Joel is also meaner in this one)
This is a dark fic, so please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.
a/n: I am a very sick individual. dont read this. honestly. just dont
Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt.4
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"Hi daddy!" you smiled, shutting the door to your room to greet him at the entrance.
"hello sweetheart" he grinned at your excitement getting rid of his jacket and throwing it on the coat stand before his eyes traveled to you, and god was he thankful they did.
That tiny baby blue skirt he's bought you was a damn good investment, and your own touch of that little fucking white top was just as good.
There you were, on display for him, all for him... and you didn't even know.
"I like the outfit" he smirked, tilting his head to get a better look at your naked thighs, thighs he now knew from experience to be soft and just... perfect.
"thank you daddy" you giggled, smiling happily
"You know what you need to do sugar, go on" he gestured, his voice deep and almost strained at the thought of what was about to happen.
It had turned into a routine now, but his dick certainly never got used to it.
"of course" you nodded, obedient as ever, your hands going to the hem of your skirt and slowly, slowly bringing it up- up enough to show him your bare core.
Panties weren't allowed anymore.
He didn't know what it was, but there was just something about the fact that he had the power to make you do that, to make you show your whole naked pussy to him in the middle of the living room, in the way your eyes remained on him, patiently waiting for further instructions, pending from his every word, there was something about that that made him thank each existing god every single time.
He got his good look, and then with just a nod he'd made you cover yourself up again.
"good girl" he smiled, getting rid of his boots as you eagerly stalked closer to him.
"how's my favorite girl doing?" he asked, his voice sweet as he wrapped one arm around you, pushing you closer to him.
"good" you nodded "my exam went well today at school"
Your math exam, the same one he'd watched you study a whole week for, even "helping out" in his own way once or twice... a kiss down there for every right answer had become your new favorite study method.
"mhh, of course" he smirked, stroking your cheek "pretty and smart, now that's my girl"
You bit your lip at his words, that warm feeling traveling between your legs once again.
"a-and how did your day go?" you realized was your turn to ask once you got out of the trance his eyes made you spiral into every time.
"mh" he hummed, shutting his eyes for a moment as if to clear his mind of bad memories from his day "Not great sweetheart... but it would have been a hell of a lot worse if I didn't know I was getting you all to myself tonight"
Once again, heat shot to your cheeks at the flattery.
"you thought about me?"
"'f course I did" he spoke softly "couldn't stop thinkin' about all the ways I can help you out tonight"
"yeah?" your eyes widened, excitement piercing through your tone.
"oh yeah" he growled, kissing you as his hand squeezed one of your asscheeks.
You whimpered into his mouth, and he leaned away.
"did you do your homework sugar?"
"mh-mh" you nodded, "I didn't have a lot today, just English" 
A chuckle rumbled deep from his chest
He did that often, smiling and laughing at something you said, and each time, you were left confused as to why.
"not those homework, babygirl"
The sound of a choked "oh" came out of your mouth, and that smug, predatory smile he always seemed to have around you persisted on his lips.
"y-yes" you said finally "yes I-I was doing them now"
"yeah?" he grinned, his fingers on your ass trailing lower and lower... and then lower, until his digits connected with your pussy- your wet, drenched pussy.
"I can feel it" he chuckled, his fingers sliding into you for no more than a second, 
"daddy" you whimpered
"clean daddy's fingers" he shushed you, bringing the proof of your arousal to your lips, and watching you closely, as you obeyed his command.
It was salty, saltier than his come, you noticed, licking his fingers clean.
"you were in your room?" 
you nodded
"let's go then"
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Your room was the same as always, pink everywhere, filling every inch of the space, your curtains were drawn, but some light still soaked through them, and the lamp on your bedside did the rest.
You walked before him, as he had instructed, and when you both entered, he closed the door behind you.
You were moving to the bed where you'd left your laptop, when Joel's voice stopped you.
"What's that shirt doing on the floor?"
"oh I must have left it there when I changed" you explained, crouching down to pick it up 
"not like that" He tutted "Bend down, keep your legs straight"
You frowned, but obeyed nonetheless, feeling cool air hit your core
"stay like that" 
"w-why?"
"'cause daddy's gotta take a picture," he said, pulling out his phone and doing just that, a damn good view in front of him.
"w-why are you always taking pictures?"
he rolled his eyes at your need to question him.
"cause they help me keep track of how healthy you are" he lied through his teeth, walking to you until he could place one of his hands on each of your asscheeks, stroking lazily.
"for example, right now your pussy's very healthy" he drawled, one hand leaving your ass to land a quick slap to your core.
You jolted forward, gasping at the feeling.
It stung, but it also felt kinda... good
He chuckled softly again
"got it?"
"y-yes daddy" you gulped, as he helped you get up, groaning lowly at the feeling of your ass meeting his hard cock.
he turned you around, moving some hair out of your face.
"take off your top"
You did.
"now your skirt"
Again, you did,
remaining completely naked before him.
"good girl" he breathed, his index fingers traveling from the valley of your breasts to your navel, his eyes following suit "Now show me what you found" he nodded to the computer,
He sat on the bed, back against the headboard, and then placed you onto his lap.
He smiled at what he saw on your laptop.
"I-I went to the site you told me" you breathed, your voice no more than a whisper.
"so what do you think of porn?" he smirked
"I-I" Although you were naked, it felt a thousand degrees in that room, and his hands stoking your thighs and your nipples certainly weren't helping "I like... some of it"
"Which ones?"
"the ones that don't feel f-fake" you swallowed thickly 
He just grinned
"and did you find a favorite one like I asked you?"
You bit your lip as you nodded, tapping on your computer to switch tabs
"this one"
It was an amateur one, not in hd, the camera not even straight, but the couple... you really liked them
"play it"
with a tap of your middle finger, soft moans started filling the room, as the man in the video started pleasuring the woman with his mouth, grabbing at every piece of her with his hands, as if he couldn't help it, as if he wanted to devour all of her.
You didn't even notice your hips starting to move on their own accord, trying to grind onto something- anything, as your thighs squeezed shut.
Joel chuckled behind you, his eyes not on the screen but on you.
"what do you like about it?" 
His lips met with your shoulder as his fingers pinched your nipple, and there was nothing that could have stopped the moan that escaped you from doing so.
"T-they just look so... happy" you whispered, trying not to cry because of how desperately needy you felt between your legs "so in love"
This time, Joel managed to bite down his laugh
"a-and I like-"
you stopped, too embarrassed all of a sudden
"what?"
"n-nothing"
Joel shook his head, his mouth to your ear
"You're drenching my pants, sweetheart, it ain't nothing"
You almost moaned at just the sound of how deep and hot his voice sounded
"I like that" you confessed, urging him to look at the screen
"you like that?"
he didn't even sound like himself anymore, just a wolf, a wolf holding a defenseless bunny.
"y-yes"
"you like that she's on top of him" he taunted, "that she's riding his cock" he murmured "'s that right darlin'?"
"y-yes daddy" you cried, turning your head to look at him, to beg at him "Please" you whimpered "please daddy do something"
It wasn't just heat now, it was burning flames of need pooling between your thighs.
"what about the other part of the homework?" he didn't mind your pleas
"I- I couldn't daddy" you whined, real tears now stinging your eyes "I couldn't do it, not without you daddy- please"
"aw baby" he cooed "my dumb little baby" fake concern filled his features "Show me what you were doing"
"no please daddy just- you do it"
You were going crazy, literally crazy because of how utterly desperate you were.
"stop whining and do as I say" he ordered, his voice colder "or I'm done helping you out"
As if, he laughed in his mind
You obeyed immediately.
You needed him to help you out, there was so much you still had to learn, and you couldn't possibly teach all that to yourself, you couldn't even masturbate for god's sake.
"lay on your back and show me" he said again, as he got up.
He closed your laptop and set in on the floor as you positioned yourself in front of him.
You slowly planted your feet onto the mattress, spreading your legs.
His ravenous gaze fixed on your core.
"go on"
So you did,
One of your trembling fingers traveled to your core, and slowly- oh so slowly- you pushed it inside of you, whimpering lightly.
He didn't say anything, and so you started moving it, trying to mimic what you've seen him so countless times now... and failing miserably.
"I-I can't" an unsatisfied whine fled your mouth
"'f course you can't, not like that" Joel smirked devilishly "Put another finger in"
"b-but"
"just do it"
You tried, you really tried... but you were so scared, it just felt like too much, like you couldn't handle all that
"I-It doesn't fit- it's too much" you cried "Please daddy help me- please please please"
God, but did you ever stop whining?
And so partially because he wanted you to stop, and partially because he just wanted to, he grabbed your waist, pulling you to the edge of the bed, and dropped to his knees.
"It doesn't fit?" he mocked, your fingers pulling out of you just in time for him to plunge two of his own in.
You gasped and moaned and cried all at once.
"Then how come this little pussy can take my whole cock?" he didn't even wait for you to adjust, to stop squirming, before his index finger thrust inside you "How come I can fit three of my fingers in here?"
Real tears fell from your eyes as you moaned and arched your back like a cat.
You tried shutting your legs, but he spread them apart mercilessly, gripping your thighs as his fingers thrust in and out of you at a scathing pace
He'd never been like this, so fast, so mean
You didn't know if you were breathing, you didn't know if you were alive, if you had fainted, you didn't know anything besides how good you were feeling, how much pleasure he was giving you after you'd been starved so long for it.
"is it too much now?" he mocked, watching you fall apart in front of him "because it looks like it ain't" he growled "it looks like i could fit all my fingers in here and it still wouldn't be enough"
You moaned, you moaned so loud your throat hurt.
"'s that what you want, you want to be completely filled like a little slut?"
slut
he'd never called you that- why did he call you that? Why did it make you clench around him? why why why-
"no please daddy" you moaned "'s too much"
"three fingers is enough for this little pussy?" he teased 
"yes daddy yes- I-"
It was like making a deal with the devil, if you weren't specific enough...
"what about this other pretty hole?" he smirked, his fingers slowing as two of his fingers from his left hand reached between your asscheeks, grazing your other hole 
"d-daddy" you just stuttered
"I think we need to start stretching this one darlin'"
You gasped, as he used your moisture to wet his middle finger and trailed downwards
"I- b-but daddy"
"daddy's gonna fuck it one of these days" he interrupted "and we don't want it to hurt do we?"
You tried to calm your breathing as you answered
"y-you mean you want t-to-"
He chuckled, his fingers pushing into your g-spot making your mind just a big dumb mess.
"I mean I'm gonna fuck your ass babygirl" he explained, his finger pushing more and more at the entrance "it's another lesson, you see" he murmured "but I need to prepare you for it- I need to stretch you out real good for my cock"
His cock. Inside there. How on Earth was that gonna happen?
"That's why you're gonna be good and let me put this finger in here" he emphasized his words by pushing slightly "aren't you sweetheart?"
"I-is it gonna hurt?"
"not if you relax" he cocked a brow "are you gonna relax for me?"
"y-yes" you surrendered "yes daddy"
And that was that.
He pushed his finger into you, slowly, even though there was nothing he would have liked more to just thrust it, and hear your shocked cry.
But the moan you let out- oh the moan you let out was worth every moment of his painful self control.
It wasn't particularly pleasant at first, but then... then it was like fire spread through you, and when the fingers in your pussy started moving faster it was like gasoline dunked onto the flames.
it didn't just feel good, it felt... new.
It felt like heaven and hell altogether, and then it felt like... it felt like you needed to pee.
"d-daddy!" you gasped, your hips grinding shamelessly onto him "daddy's not right- I-I"
tears rolled down your temples, and your belly twisted into knots as your walls tightened and tightened around him.
"Shhh" he shushed you "let go" he said, "let go darlin'"
And so you did.
A rainstorm of pleasure putting out all the fire inside you. Pure, divine bliss took over you as you looked at him, crying out and squirming uncontrollably, until it was all over... until you realized what had just happened.
Whatever that was
"o-oh my god" your eyes widened, taking in his drenched shirt, his wet mouth and chin which you didn't even notice he'd put on you as you soaked him to get a taste "I-I'm so sorry daddy- I- I don't know what-"
He was on you before you could blink.
"sorry?" he laughed "what are you sorry about?"
"I-I-"
"you squirted" he grinned "ain't there nothin' wrong with that... the opposite actually"
"S-squirted?"
"that's right"
"and you're not mad?"
"why would I be mad?" he asked, amusement and thrill glossing his eyes "It's just like when daddy comes all over your face babygirl" he explained "You like that, don't you?"
"mh-mh" you nodded
his cock twitched at that
"And I like when you come all over mine baby"
"oh"
"yeah" he chuckled, kissing you deeply "I'm gonna make you squirt every fucking day from now on sweetheart"
You could only smile before he kissed you again
"now how 'bout we do that thing you saw?" he asked, "you wanna ride my cock sweetheart?"
"yes" you nodded eagerly
"then let's get to it, shall we?"
He gave you one last kiss, before he leaned back, undressing completely.
He chuckled as he caught you eating him up with your eyes, but said nothing as he laid on his back.
"c'mere" was all he said, grabbing your waist as you sat on top of him, your core inches away from his cock.
your hands raked his chest, stroking and admiring him, before you looked at his hungry gaze, and asked:
"what do I do?"
His eyes fell to where his cock sat on his belly
"take my dick in your hand"
You did as instructed, mesmerized by how big and beautiful it looked.
"now raise your hips a little, and slide me into you"
You did what he said, but just as he started entering you, you froze, the feeling foreign and not... good.
The woman in the video seemed to enjoy it so much, why can't I?
"you gotta relax" Joel explained, his right hand going to your clit "Let me in" he murmured, drawing circles on your bud "it'll feel good babygirl, just let daddy in"
And so, slowly, slowly you started sinking onto his manhood, whimpers and moans fleeing your throat with every inch added.
Util finally, you had done it.
"o-oh my god" you choked at the feeling.
He was deeper than he'd ever been, that you ever thought possible.
"good girl" he smirked
You didn't even have time to think about what you were doing that your hips were already moving, grinding onto him, bringing heaven to your core.
"O-Oh m-my"
"bounce on it darlin'"
Your hands sat on his chest as you obeyed, feeling his grip on your waist tighten as you raised and lowered onto his cock, moaning as you threw your head back.
now you understood that woman, It felt amazing
And so you started doing it again and again and again, clawing at his chest as groans rumbled from it.
"good god" he grunted "f-fuck"
"it feels so good daddy" you breathed, your lungs burning for oxygen
"yeah? You like riding me, baby?"
"yes" you cried "I like it so much daddy" 
"like having my cock so deep inside ya?"
"god yes" you whimpered 
"yeah?" he mocked, raising his hips to meet yours and forcing a roar out of you
"daddy! I-"
"you're coming already?"
"y-yes daddy I-"
He cocked a brow as he watched you
"think you deserve to?" he asked, "after acting like that before?"
"please" you begged, your voice nothing but a thread "please daddy let me come"
he remained stoic, and you were so close...
"please daddy, I'm sorry I'll be better, I'll be good- I promise"
He smirked now
"you promise?"
A nod, that was all you could offer
"No more questioning me when I'm trying to help?"
"n-no" you shook your head "I'll do whatever you tell me, whatever you want"
That's all he needed
"come on my cock sugar" he ordered "come like the good little girl you are"
You swore you blacked out after that, the pleasure was so deep and so strong it knocked you out.
The next thing you knew, you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his come leaking out of you.
he'd already told you you needed to tell mom you wanted to take the pill
The words were out of you before you could stop them.
"Y-you were a little... mean before-" you swallowed "when you were using your- fingers"
He groaned internally
"I know babygirl" he cooed, caressing your arms soothingly "but you were acting like a little brat, and I just- I ran out of patience"
"o-oh" 
"I'm here to help you, so it's hard for me when you act like that, understand?"
God how stupid you had been.
He was doing you a favor, and you were acting like a child.
"I-I'm sorry daddy" You pouted, leaning up to kiss him "I'm really sorry I won't do it again"
"thank you sweetheart" he smiled "but I think there's a better way to use that pretty mouth of yours to apologize"
You gulped, as you followed his gaze to his cock
"I'm kind of tired daddy" you murmured
"I know you are" he cooed "but daddy knows best, baby"
"You made me really mad sugar" he explained "And if you want to apologize real good... you're gonna need to suck daddy's cock"
And just like that, you were descending down his body.
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neochan · 1 year
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THE PRIDEFUL GAMER (M)
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SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part two of a series! read part one for context!
PAIRING | best friend!haechan x reader
SYNOPSIS |  lee donghyuck had the largest ego you’d ever seen for someone who stayed cramped in their dorm room all night playing video games; but when you stay in with him the night after a raging party, you find yourself realizing that ego just might be deserved.
WC | 10.8k
WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol & weed, sexual comments, hyuck shirtless and covered in paint, party games, comments abt virginity, switch!hyuck (slight sub, lean dom), sexual content (nothing too crazy).
A.N | i know you guys have been waiting for this, so i hope it lives up to the hype :) and if it doesn't - sorry
“Haechan, I need you to fuck me.”
Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, tired eyes ringed with heavy circles and glinting in judgement.
This was fucking ridiculous.
No matter how many times you sat in front of the mirror and practiced, you couldn’t get the words out with a straight face. Even the wet dreams that plagued your sleeping hours weren’t enough to prepare you. After all, you still couldn’t believe what you were going to ask Haechan to do. Or participate in, rather.
It wasn’t that you were scared, or that you didn’t want it, because trust and believe your mind and body both craved him; it was just stressful. Asking your bestfriend to give you some dick and then go on and mind his business like nothing happened?
Unfathomable.
But it was Haechan, and something in your brain told you he’d jump at the chance to fuck you; at least you were hoping so. How could you not think that when he said things like –
“If I open the door, am I gonna see boobs?”
Case in point.
You yell back, a blush of embarrassment heating your face while you fumble around to act like you were putting on makeup and not practicing asking him for sex, “No you pervert!”
The door swings wide open and the boy in question steps into the tiny room, “That’s a damn shame.”
God Damn.
Ever since that alcohol induced dream, your body had taken the liberty of reacting every time you caught sight of Haechan. It didn’t matter if he was drunk with pasta sauce smeared all over his face after he smashed a bowl of ravioli (true story), or if he was all done up for a class presentation on the history of the toaster oven (out of all things); your body reacted the same either way.
It went further than just sight though. If you so much as smelled someone wearing similar cologne to what he normally wore, arousal bells started ringing and you had to sprint home to relieve the ache between your legs.
This time wasn’t any different.
Fluffy, dark brown hair is what you see first, gelled stylishly in effortless waves around his head, save for the small curls on the nape of his neck. When you move your gaze lower, you lock eyes with his, and a spark of curiosity blooms. Then it’s his perfect pink lips set in a cute pout, and rounded jaw that you often stared at when he ate because it made you think of how good he’d be at eating you out. The thoughts start to creep into your mind, and you have no choice but to shake them out and replace them with something else, which so happened to be his outfit…or lack thereof.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, revealing a cute tummy with faint lines and deeply toned biceps. You’d punched him in the stomach once before, and you didn’t need to see abs to know that that man was rock solid. Multicolored neon body paint decorated his torso and back, tiny splatters here and there, but the star of the show is a lime green handprint wrapped around his throat (Jaemins probably). His black sweats also had paint on them, but his combat boots didn’t have a drop of color. If he expected to get out of the frat with them looking spotless, he had another thing coming.
“You do know the theme is neon?” His voice jolts you back into reality, and the blush that was gone finds its way back to your throat and cheeks. You were literally sitting in front of the mirror with a neon pink bralette on, why was he asking you this? Slightly, you nod. “Then why are you staring at me? I know I’m not ripped like Jen or Jaem, but come on, I can rock the dad bod!”
“Haechan. Take this with a grain of salt, but you have a decent body.”
Automatically, the compliment goes to his head, “Wanna see all of it sometime?”
Yes, please.
“No.”
A cheeky smile forms on his lips, “Thought so…”
“I’m actually surprised you’re going. Don’t you have a video game competition or something?” You stand up from your spot in front of the vanity and grab your leather jacket that was laying on the rack beside it.
“I can’t pass up free liquor. You know this.”
For some reason, your outfit seems like its missing something, and desperately your eyes are searching for it… ah! A necklace. You couldn’t go in a frat without some form of jewelry. Unable to reach behind yourself and clasp it, you hold it out to Haechan who doesn’t hesitate to grab it and push your shoulder, so your back was to him. “So, the plan is to get hammered?”
Tender fingers brush aside your hair, a spark igniting in the pit of your stomach. You feel almost giddy at his touch, and you’re not sure you entirely hate it. You anticipate more, and he doesn’t disappoint. His hands reach around your throat, the heavy pendant resting at the base of your throat while his fingers work at the nape of your neck to clasp it.
“The plan is to get absolutely drunk, find a bad bitch and fuck her till the entire house knows my name.” His voice is low, dropping right next to your ear, and the air blowing from his lips makes your shiver into his touch at your neck.
“S-Sounds like a good plan.” you whisper.
What was this boy doing to you?
“Wanna help?”
“H-Help? Help with what? Help you?”
He backs away, hands held out in front of him and a smile cracking his features, “Yeah. Wanna help me find a frat bunny?”
I’m right here.
“Oh, uh, sure.”
“Perfect.” He starts to head out before turning back to you, “You didn’t think I was gonna ask if I could fuck you… did you?”
Your response comes out suspiciously fast, but Haechan had pregamed before stopping at your dorm, and he definitely didn’t catch it, “No! I would never! You’re like… really fucking gross. Sorry Hyuck.”
“Ahhh, theres the Y/N I know!” he claps you on the shoulder, “By the way, Jeno and Jaem are waiting in the car downstairs so hurry up.”
With that, he’s gone, the slamming of the front door resonating deep in the pit of your stomach, your nerves buzzing, and every muscle tense.
This was going to be a long night.
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People were already throwing up in the bushes by the time you and the boys arrived, but you’d rather wade through puke than sit in Jeno’s car a second longer.
The entire ride to the frat house was a mess. From being squished between Jaemin and Hyuck, thanks to Jeno reserving the front seat for his precious bottles of Smirnoff and Hennessy (Seriously, he wouldn’t move them. He even buckled them up in case he crashed the car. As if the bottles wouldn’t break.) to having one of said bottles passed around the backseat and promptly spilled all over your upper body; you couldn’t take it anymore.
Unfortunately, the situation was made worse by Haechan's actions. As the cold alcohol spilled all over you, his hands peppered over your body, gliding through the sticky liquid that was rapidly drying. When he touched the lace of your bralette, his fingers inadvertently brushed against your nipple, reigniting the warmth in your stomach.
You really hoped he hadn’t noticed.
Jaemin, on the other hand, kept shoving his arm around to try and garner your attention towards his phone, which had pictures of sorority girls pulled up.
“Which ones should I take back to my place tonight?” He kept asking you, again and again and again until you and his minty breath were quite acquainted.
Needless to say, you wanted out.
So, when the car came to a screeching halt along the sidewalk, you were all but climbing over Jaemins lap to get the door open.
“You know, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have you all over me, but this isn’t what I meant.” The flirtatious jokes from Jaemin were already starting, but he wasn’t the target tonight, Haechan was.
“Sorry, Haechan’s body odor was starting to get to me.” You send a warm smile to the boy clambering out of Jeno small coupe behind you.
“I literally haven’t even started being mean to you yet, why are you throwing insults?” Haechan stands tall, the heels of his combat boots making him tower over you, “And I’m wearing old spice anyway, this shit lasts ages. You must have been smelling Jaemins dick… I heard it’s quite overused.”
The pink haired boy whips around, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his sweatpants, “Why are you mad I get more pussy than you?”
Jeno thrusts a bottle of alcohol into you and Haechans hands, leaving Jaemin empty handed, who looks at you with a pout. You uncap your bottle, a dark thing of Hennessy, and pass it to him.
Haechan snorts, “Not mad, just annoyed that you keep me up all night with your grunting.”
Jaemin passes the bottle back to you and gives you a wink, but he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, the four of you start walking through the grass and up the steps to the frat house.
The front lawn was littered with red, plastic solo cups, ping pong balls, and empty beer cans. Toilet paper hung around a poorly spray-painted piece of cardboard that read, ‘welcome to the jungle’. College students hung around the porch smoking cigarettes and weed, and somehow a joint ends up between your fingers before you’ve even reached the front door.  
“Wanna shotgun that?” Haechan smirks, wiggling his eyebrows when you shove the loosely wrapped blunt between your lips.
Inhaling takes a minute, the burning sensation of the weed filling your lungs and immediately reaching your bloodstream. You blow the smoke directly in Haechans face as a way of declining his offer, though pressing your lips against his and sharing a smoky kiss sounded real good right then.
He waves a hand in front of his face, “Fine. I see how it is.”
Whoever handed you the blunt plucks it out from between your fingers before you can pass it to Haechan and disappears around the side of the house.
“Well, that was mean.” Jaemin sighs defeatedly.
“I’m pretty sure Renjun is inside selling if you want to buy something off of him.” Jeno shouts over his shoulder.
“Fair warning though, he doesn’t roll well.” You spit tiny green pieces of marijuana onto the front walkway and cringe at the taste. There was a reason you didn’t like edibles.
Jeno just nods to the freshman pledge assigned to door duty (a scrawny boy who went by the name of Shotaro) and shoulders the front door of the house. Immediate booming bass finds your chest and rattles through you, the smell of spilled alcohol and cheap drugs clouding the house in a thick smog. Black lights hang from the ceiling, the people loitering near the entranceway glowing brightly in neon oranges, blues, green, yellows, and pinks.
You vaguely notice a few of the brothers roaming around passing out beers to the partygoers, but one in particular notices the four of you crowding the entrance and discards his last beer to a random girl at his side before jogging over.
“Jae!” Jeno and the brother lock hands and embrace, slapping each other’s backs in a way that looked painful.
The only reason you had gotten into the frat parties all year long was because of Jaehyuns and Jeno’s relationship – they were on the hockey team together, and brothers.
Jung Jaehyun was a senior, the head of the most popular frat on campus, NEO, and Jeno’s half-brother. You’d never really interacted with him, but from what you heard, he was a nice guy with an even nicer girlfriend, and they were head over heels in love with each other. You didn’t see her around anywhere, not that you would know what she looked like.
“Looking for someone?” Haechans voice, gravelly and low, finds your ear and makes you shiver despite how hot it was in the house. You hated the way he made your body feel, but not as much as you should have.
“You’re about to be looking out of one eye if you don’t back the fuck up.” Hostility was not your strong suit, but Haechan just drug something out of you.
“Jesus Christ, you need to drink. You’re so much better drunk. A lot nicer.” He smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and you can physically feel your heart beginning to melt.
A little voice in the back of your head is telling you to say, and you’re so much better when you shut up, how about you put that mouth to use between my legs?
But you refrain.
It’s very hard to refrain.
You almost slip.
That is, until you realize Jaehyun has since walked away and left the four of you to party how you please.
“Okay. I’ll be staying sober. Well, as sober as a good couple blunts make me. Please try to stay in the house, it makes it so much easier when it’s time to go and I have to round you jack offs up.” Jeno smirks, handing his bottle of alcohol to Jaemin who gladly takes it.
You’re surprised he hasn’t already gone looking for someone to fuck, it was well known that him and Jaehyun didn’t particularly get along. Something about Jaemin fucking Jaehyuns ex… you didn’t know the full story.
Jeno grabs Haechans bare shoulders, “Please, for the love of God, do not jump in the pool again. Last time you almost drowned and I don’t feel like planning a funeral for your sorry ass.”
“I make no such promises, but I will try my best.” The younger boy beams.
“Alright, go have fun, and try not to catch a STD. I’ll be over with Renjun if you need me.” And with that, your friend Jeno breaks from the group, his neon painted bare back shining brightly amongst the crowd right before he fades in.
Jaemin breaks off almost immediately after chugging the bottle of alcohol Jeno had given him.
Haechan, who wasn’t one for parties and usually stayed holed up in his dorm room playing video games all night, sways by your side awkwardly.
“Aren’t you gonna go find a frat bunny to fuck?” You shout over the blaring music.
He looks almost nervous when he shifts his gaze to you, “I don’t really see anyone of interest… except you of course. Wanna go fuck in the bathroom?” A shit eating grin blinds you right before he lifts the Smirnoff bottle and takes a swig, finishing it with a grimace.
Wouldn’t it be nice to say yes and get his part of the challenge over? Fuck, how you wanted to grab his hand and drag him to the nearest bathroom, but frat parties weren’t the place to hook up, and you wanted to take your time with him anyway.
“I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
“You’re telling me you don’t wanna hit this?” He rubs his free hand across his chest and stomach, dipping it so far as to drag down a bit of his sweatpants. A strong V-Line peeks out and you almost choke on air, eyes bugging out of your skull.
“Keep your fucking clothes on Hyuck.” You sputter.
He cocks an eyebrow and reaches out for your hand, which you hesitate to take. What was he doing? Was he trying to bring you into the nearest bathroom?
All he does is tug you towards the main room, an open area full of students dancing, drinking, and smoking, “Interesting… Come on, let’s party.”
The feeling of his calloused fingers enlaced with yours was enough to send your mind spiraling deep into the thoughts that plagued your dreams – like what it would feel like to have them wrapped around your neck, or shoved between your thighs, maybe even down your throat. 
Mentally, you tell your brain to shut up (it always did get slutty in these environments).
“Y/N!!” A girly voice shouts off to your left, dragging both you and Haechans attention. Lisa, a girl in the same major as you, who you’ve known for a couple years now, is barreling toward you and the boy you’re linked hand in hand with. She shoves a few partygoers to the side, an opened beer can in her hand which she’s cautious enough not to spill.
When she finally makes it to your side, her eyes dip down and make note of your hands crushed together, a freshly waxed eyebrow popping up in question at you. Immediately you yank your hand away from Haechan, who glares in protest but doesn’t say anything.
“I didn’t think I would see you here!” She’s beaming head to toe and slings a paint splattered arm around your shoulders.
You smile back, “Jeno made me come.” She’d had a crush on Jeno for ages, and from the look on her face at the mention of his name, it still existed.
“Oh, he’s here? I didn’t even know!! I need to go find him asap.”
“Well yeah, it’s his brothers party and all…” Haechan pipes up from beside of you, nervously biting at his nails. He always chewed his cuticles unrecognizable.
She looks up at him with a weird expression before extracting her arm and turning to face you, her back to Haechan, who sneers and throws up a middle finger in her direction. It makes you chuckle, but thankfully she doesn’t question it.
“Well, a bunch of us are playing games upstairs if you wanna join.”
You start to say no, but you can tell in her eyes that she wasn’t going to take that as an answer, so you nod your head, “Sure.”
A squeal so loud heads turn, erupts from her mouth, “Good!!! Ima go find Jeno and then head up there. I’ll see you soon.” And with a kiss to your cheek, she’s gone.
“Well, guess we’re playing games.” Haechan huffs, reaching for your hand now that she was gone, “I hope it’s spin the bottle so I can kiss you.”
Me too.
Rolling your eyes, you start towards the stairs, “Haechan?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
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Haechan didn’t shut up.
In fact, he kept his mouth running all the way up the stairs, through the bodies loitering in the hallway, around a puddle of puke, and into the makeshift living room Lisa must have set up.
Not like you were paying much attention to what he said anyways. Instead, your mind chose to focus on the way his back looked in the dim lighting of the frat house. Underneath a layer of pretty tan skin, the boy was all muscle, stretching and tensing when his lithe legs carried him up the inclined stairs. And when he turned around to make sure you were still following him, despite his hand being attached to yours, you notice the muscles carried all the way around to his abdomen and torso.
Because the house was hot and humid, the paint splattered on his chest was fading and streaking. The neon paint dripped down his body, with some even dribbling into the waistband of his sweatpants. The idea of the paint staining his v-line creates a sensation of warmth in your stomach.
You wanted to see him naked so bad and it made you mad.
What happened to the boy who stayed in his room every day and barely touched vegetables? What happened to him being a friend and just that? Had one night of drinking skewed your common sense? Or was this just a side effect of the challenge you were doing?
Whatever, he’s fucking hot and he has a big dick, you argue with yourself, images of what you saw on his phone flashing through your mind.
Haechan getting his dick sucked by some random girl, forcing her to deepthroat and then whimpering.
The thought alone almost makes you steer him into the nearest bathroom, but the makeshift living room comes too soon.
“I literally can’t get rid of you.” Jaemin perks up from his spot on the floor, bottle of liquor tucked away in his lap.
“Talk to Lisa.” You shoot back flatly.
As you glance around the room, you realize that the only person you recognize is Jaemin. While a few faces seem familiar, you can't recall their names or where you may have seen them before.
Hyuck guides you over to the circle where everyone is seated and takes a spot, leaving you to settle in opposite him. "Looks like it's just you and me," he says with a grin, displaying his gleaming white teeth. You can't help but wonder how they would feel against your inner thighs, and you unconsciously clench them together while crossing your arms.
You didn’t know how long Lisa and Jeno were going to be, or if she was still downstairs recruiting more players, but you’re lucky not to be left alone with your thoughts too long, because a couple minutes later, she, Jeno and Jaehyun (surprisingly) filter into the room, one after the other.
Haechan’s eyes cut to you, and he smirks, eyebrows wiggling in a stupidly suggestive way.
“Okay! Seems like we got enough players.” Lisa pipes up, taking the spot next to you that sat empty (thankfully no one had sat and tried to make acquaintance. you were too sober for that). Jeno sits off to your right, and Jaehyun takes the spot next to Haechan.
Jaemin leans in towards the circle, appearing invested as he asks, "What game are we playing?" His gaze travels up and down Lisa's body, and he licks his lips. You roll your eyes; of course, she was the one he was after tonight. Too bad her eyes were on Jeno.
She gives a short giggle before replying, “How about seven minutes in heaven?”
A low murmur ripples through the circle but affirming head nods set the game in motion.
Honestly, you find the game awkward and childish, something played in your early high school years, but maybe the universe and luck would be on your side tonight.
Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get into Haechans pants? This silly little game was the perfect opportunity.
He seemed to be on the same wavelength because one glance and you see him making kissy faces directed at you.
Why the fuck was he so weird?
And why did you want to crawl across the circle and kiss him?
“Great, can we use that bottle Jaemin?” Lisa asks, and he’s quick to shove it in the middle. He must really want her to come home with him tonight if he’s giving up his alcohol that easily – or the bottle at least.
Lisa takes a finger and spins the bottle, the handle flying around so fast it looked like a blur. You hold your breath, silently praying it doesn’t land on you. You could probably hear a pen drop in the room (plus the thumping bass coming up through the floorboards).
It comes to a standstill, pointing at a random girl you’ve never seen before. She looks nervous, but that was to be expected, right?
Lisa spins the bottle again and you thank your lucky stars when it lands on another girl in the circle.
Two girls down, about 12 of you left.
The next few rounds follow a similar pattern, with two unfamiliar people being chosen and then awkwardly leaving the circle. At some point Jaemin and a blonde headed bimbo filter off to surely fuck.
The game starts to feel pointless, but then the bottle lands on you.
Haechan immediately perks up from being previously slumped against a pillow. The bottle of Smirnoff by his side was slowly draining, and you could tell he was feeling it a bit. A rosy blush spread itself on his cheeks and his eyes shined bright. An eager look crosses his face when Lisa tips the bottle into spinning.
Whoever it landed on was going to be shoved in a tiny closet with you for the next seven minutes. Time ticked slow, your eyes following it’s every move.
Spinning.
And spinning.
And spinning.
And stop.
“No fucking way.” Haechan pouts.
Your eyebrows raise, a short, disbelieving laugh rushing past your lips. The bottle has landed between Jaehyun and Haechan, more towards the latter, but nearly dead set between.
“Well, who is it then?” Haechan urges, pushing himself up on his knees, “Cause it’s more towards me, so I think it’s only fair…”
“Maybe by a single degree.” Jaehyun argues, locking his eyes with yours and giving a lopsided smile.
It strikes you as odd that Jaehyun, who you're pretty sure has a girlfriend (Jeno had mentioned her once or twice), is even participating in the game. Despite this, he seems to be making eyes at you, smiling with deep dimples and winking. You just stare back at him, causing the tips of his ears to flush red. You weren’t going to be the cause of a scandal if he was, in fact, still dating that girl.
So the dilemma (that wasn’t really a dilemma) dawns on you. Your best friend or the boy who (maybe) had a girlfriend? You contemplate storming out of the room and forfeiting the game – but what was the fun in that? And anyways, Haechan looked like he was getting antsy.
“Come on Hyuck.” you grumble, pushing yourself up off the dusty floor and slipping out into the semi-crowded hallway. The boy eagerly follows on your heel until you’re shouldering a random door and slipping into a dark room.
It feels much bigger than the closet you were envisioning, though where was the fucking light? Both of you search the walls to no avail. Faintly, you see the outline of a bed and walk over to it, dropping down on the sunken mattress – Haechan following your lead.
“What a coincidence that it’s you and me. I mean, I knew you wanted to fuck me, but seriously, how did you rig a spin the bottle game?”
In this moment you’re glad for the darkness enveloping the room – then he wouldn’t see the shock and embarrassment flooding your face.
Defensively, you shove his chest, “Shut up. I didn’t rig the game.”
The smirk is almost evident in his tone, “Oh, but you do wanna fuck me?”
“No – Haechan I wanted to play a game. Of course fate would give me your ass.”
“Maybe fate wants us to hook up.” he murmurs.
I’d agree with fate then, you think.
A million thoughts flood your mind in a millisecond. How convenient it was that you were stuck in an empty room, with a bed, with Hyuck – with a shirtless Hyuck. The dim lighting outlines the contours of his chest, and you can feel yourself clenching your thighs together for what felt like the umpteenth time.
“Would you like that?” You whisper, slightly leaning closer to him. He wasn’t that far away. Maybe a foot at most.
“Is the sky blue?” He retorts, ever so slightly leaning into you too.
You roll your eyes, “Is that a trick question – because it’s nighttime right now and the sky is black.”
“I don’t know, maybe you should kiss me and find out.”
His voice is lower than normal, which surprises you. But not as much as the statement. You knew he was like this – forward and flirty. Though it’s different when you actually want to reciprocate.
Time slows down and the electricity of the moment surrounds you two. His lips are inching towards your own, long, slender fingers grabbing your thighs.
Fuck, it’s happening – Everything you’ve been dreaming about for weeks on end. How did this happen so fast?
You can smell the alcohol on his breath – wondering if he’ll taste sweet like brandy.
“Hyuck…” you whisper, “ I-“
Light and sound flood the room, startling the fuck outta you and making you jump three feet back into the headboard.
“Oh shit –” the partygoer curses.
The girl on his arm giggles, “’m sorry. Didn’t mean to barge in on you two!” They slam the door, and the muffled sounds of the party bring you back to the present.
Yellow spots cloud your vision as you fumble to stand up, almost tripping over what you can assume to be a backpack.
You swallow thickly, “Let’s go back downstairs.”
“I’ll meet you down there.” Haechan whispers, one hand running through his hair, “You go on ahead.”
Without another word, you slip into the hallway and slink down the stairs – into the hands of hundreds of drunk college kids. You see Jaemin taking shots and Jeno smoking it up with Renjun.
What the fuck just happened.
And why did I ruin it.
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After a good twenty minutes away from each other, you realize he was the only person who you cared to hang out with. So, you found him utterly intoxicated on the kitchen floor and forced him to dance with you.
Well really you just forced him off the kitchen floor which he really didn’t want to leave, but once he was up and moving, he took you by hand and made the night worthwhile.
Now two hours later, with most of the alcohol Jeno had supplied gone, all you can think about is sucking Haechans dick.
It’s because of the way he danced (and smelled, and looked, and…). His hands reach out and greedily grab at your waist, fingers twisting through the empty belt loops of your jeans. A bit of the paint he had on was smudged against you, thanks to him pulling you into a bear hug earlier in the night.
He was drunk, and it made him extra touchy. Though you didn’t mind, in fact, you welcomed it now that your resolve was slipping. So, when he pushes you against the wall, one hand held high over your head, his other circling your jaw, it’s no surprise that your heartbeat goes wild. A blush rises hot on your face; his eyes finding yours and piquing with dull amusement.
“I gotta tell you a secret-” he slurs, swaying in your arms. He thinks for a minute before putting a hand over his mouth, “Wait, I can’t tell you.” When you don’t respond, instead, electing to stare at him in amusement, his lips jut out into a pout, “Why don’t you like me?”
One of your hands pushes against his slick with sweat chest, “I do like you?” Your breathing becomes labored when his lips pull back in a sloppy grin.
“You like me? You like me!!” Haechan teeters a bit to the left, almost falling into another couple that were vigorously making out, “They need to get a room… we need to get a room.”
We had a room.
“We need to get a room?” You question, eyes widening when he leans in so close he’s only an inch away from kissing you.
“Can I kiss you?”
It feels like the room comes to a crescendo, every sound clashing yet becoming silent at the same time. All you can think about is his mouth and how pretty and pink his lips are. How it would be heaven to meld into the strong grasp of your best friend. How the constant nights of intimate dreams of him weren’t enough to satisfy you. How you should have taken him up on his offer in that damn room.
How you wanted to go to that damn bathroom now.
But this was wrong.
The wrong time, wrong place, wrong everything.
You were drunk, he was more than drunk, and surely that would affect whether you thought he fucked the best.
From around his shoulder, you spot Jeno staring at you with a beer in his hand – so much for staying sober. He’s smirking, slightly chuckling, and cocking his eyebrows at you as if asking, ‘you gonna kiss him?’
“Haechan.”
The boy has gone from being semi coherent to humming some sort of song that wasn’t even close to the one that was playing.
“Haechan!” you shake his shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of the stupor, and suddenly he stands up tall.
“Y/N, I missed you!!! What are you doing here?” It was like he was seeing you for the first time.
He was too drunk to function. You should have expected as much, but you’re still slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to go forth with your plan.
You sigh and grab his arm, the disappointment nearly sobering you up, “Let’s go find Jeno and get you home, okay?”
His eyes go frantic, “We can’t forget Jaemin! We have to find Jaemin!!!”
“Don’t worry Hyuck, I’d leave you here sooner than I would him.”
Maybe then I wouldn’t have the urge to ride you on the frats sofa.
“Meanie.”
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Steaming bags of takeout hang off your arm as you fumble to push your way through the unusually small dorm door.
“Hyuck! Jaemin!” you yell, hoping one of them would dart out of their room and help you with the load of cheap food you were threatening to drop on the ground. You shouldn’t be surprised when all is silent except for the smash of controller buttons and Haechans frustrated screech.
You wade through the mess that nearly makes you gag – piles of clothes, dirty socks and mud caked shoes. Books and pages of lecture notes litter the ground accompanied with crushed RedBull cans – evidence that Haechan did indeed leave his room at some point.
“Yo, you really need to clean this shit up.” you pantomime throwing up and toss the bags of takeout on Haechans dark blue bedspread that was actually made for once.
His back is to you, eyes trained on the video game he was playing, giving you a half-hearted grunt to acknowledge what you said. The too-big headset threatens to engulf his head, nearly sliding off as he jolts forward in the gaming chair.
“Fuck! Fuck! No… no… don’t… SHIT!” Exasperation floods his tone once the screen turns completely red and his character returns to the main lobby. “You guys suck ass.”
Without hearing their response, he shuts off his monitor and spins around to face you, who was patiently waiting on his bed, “Sorry. I woulda got the door for ya, but…” he gestures behind himself.
“It’s fine.” you mumble.
His eyes travel from your face and to the short ass skirt that was slung over your hips. Immediately your face heats up. Why was this awkward? Does he even remember what happened last night? How you almost kissed in some random frat bros room? Or how he had you pressed up against the wall, asking to kiss you. Does he remember the drive home? How he laid in your lap, drunkenly massaging your thighs? Surely he had to remember you tucking him into bed with the promise of takeout tomorrow night?
But when you look him in the eyes, you just see your friend eager to eat – not someone who you nearly fucked last night.
You clear your throat, “Um, where’s Jaemin?”
Haechan shrugs and starts sifting through the boxes of rice and pork cutlets, “He left early this morning. Said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Bet that means he’s going to get some pussy.” He takes a bite of rice and speaks through the mouthful, “Twenty four hours though? That’s a long ass time for him.”
You snort and take the box of rice he was gesturing towards you, “Nah, that’s light work for Jaem. As long as he lets us know he’s alive, I think a sex bender might be best for him.”
“You know, he’s still mad that you wouldn’t let him leave with that girl last night.” Haechans laugh rings through the room, making you smile. He had such a pretty voice.
“He was drunker than the both of us combined.” You tear the end of a soy sauce packet and dump it into the container in your lap. “Speaking of, what do you remember from last night? Did you, like, totally black out?”
“Not much, just that you were coming over today.” He says through another mouthful of food.
Great, so he didn’t remember anything. How convenient for you.
“Well… you ended up peeing on this guy when we were leaving because you missed the bush.”
“I missed the bush?”
“The whole bush.”
“Oh my god.”
“I know.”
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The food was long gone, with empty containers flooding his trashcan that begged to be taken out.
You were bored.
Here you were, laying on his bed with a lowcut shirt and a fucking miniskirt, and he was back to playing his game.
For the past hour you tried to get him to join you, but to no avail. Who knew that your first target would be the hardest to fuck? How can you accurately judge how good he fucked if he wouldn’t even lay on the bed with you?
One last chance or you were leaving.
This was an all or nothing moment.
“I’m horny.” It was a declaration. A statement so bold, he turns ever-so-slightly towards you and raises an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
You scoff, “You heard me. I need to fuck someone or something.”
The squeak of his chair rings through the uncomfortably silent room as he adjusts himself. What was he thinking? Was he disgusted? Flustered? Did he feel the same?
“Well now that you mention it…” he swallows thickly. Was it hot in his room? Could you feel it too?
You push yourself up into a sitting position, “Come help me.” His dark brown eyes flutter, the tops of his cheeks dusting a light pink color, but he stays silent. "No smart reply? No sexual comments? Did I really fluster the Lee Haechan?"
He gets up from his gaming chair, almost toppling over in the process and spilling the can of Redbull he was clutching onto for dear life. "I am not flustered. " The mattress dips under his weight as he gets comfortable next to you, his gaze falling to the lowcut shirt you wore, "Can’t I touch them if you’re serious?”
His bottom lip juts out in a pout, obviously joking around (your boobs always seemed to be the butt of his sexual comments), but even still, you find yourself removing your shirt before you can think.
The look on his face is priceless, wide eyes almost bugging out of his skull, “I was kidding! Jesus Christ Y/N, put your shirt back on!” his voice has somehow pitched up two octaves, obviously taken aback, but for some reason his eyes remain open and transfixed. It looks as if he’s almost salivating, especially when he watches your nipples perk up from how cool he kept his room.
Reaching out a hand, you clasp his wrist and bring it closer to your body, “But I’m serious.” The bewildered expression never left his face, even when you had him cup his palm around your breast, and then when he took matters into his own hands and gave you a fair squeeze, which made you giggle.
“Am I dreaming? This must be a dream?”
You hop up on your knees, making your tits bounce in the process which drops Haechan’s jaw, “Not a dream, very much reality.”
Slowly and sexily, you crawl towards his seated position beside you, “I want you Haechan.” You breathe the words out slowly, giving him time to comprehend what the fuck his best friend just said.
Confusion flits across his face and he hesitates, “But Y/N…”
“But what? I want you. I want you to fuck me.” His pupils blew wide at the confession.
“Y/N… I can’t.”
Disappointment fills your heart and deflates your ego in a millisecond. You should have known. How could you be so stupid? Of course, he didn’t want to fuck you. You were best friends for fucks sake. It would ruin everything. Why did you even try? Because you were drunk and horny the night the challenge was first brought up? Pathetic, really.
Haechan must have seen the worry and doubt fill your eyes because all of a sudden, he’s grabbing your shoulders, “No, It’s… It’s not because I don’t want to,” His eyes wash over your half naked body, and he licks his lips, “Trust me, I want to…but I’m…I’m.”
Leaning in ever so slightly you whisper, “You’re what? Scared?”
It was a taunt, a tease, a challenge, and he knew it, but he just shakes his head, “Y/N… I’m a virgin.”
Now it was your turn to be shocked, completely taken aback by this new revelation, “You’re a… virgin?”
Pink tints his cheeks and collarbones peeking through his oversized t-shirt, and he hangs his head to avoid eye contact, “Yeah, I’ve never had… never had sex.”
“But you always say –”
“I talk a big game, okay?” The reply rushes from his lips, embarrassment kicking him in the ass, “Yeah I’ve gotten head before, and I’ve eaten a few girls out, but I’ve never had actual sex. It’s… just never happened I guess.”
Here you were, trying to seduce not only your best friend, but your best friend that has just told you he was a virgin. You were trying to steal a virgins innocence. How fucked could you really be?
To be fair, he always acted like he got hella pussy, you argue with yourself.
“Jaemin knows.” He mutters, as if it was of any relevance to the situation.
“Well,” You start, sitting back on your heels, “Here I am shirtless, asking you to fuck me…” His eyes flicker up and lock with yours, “What are you gonna do about it?”
Another challenge.
He did well with challenges, and this time was no different.
You continue, “Unless you believe the ‘only have sex after marriage’ bullshit –”
“Absolutely not.”
Greedy eyes search for an answer on his face, but there’s nothing, only a permanent blush and frantic furrow brows, “Okay, then do you wanna go back to gaming?”
“…No.”
He still isn’t advancing, just sitting with his hands dropped into his lap and looking at you with his wide doe eyes, “Then what?”
You sit there, watching as Haechan fidgets with his hands, clearly nervous about what comes next. The sexual tension that hangs between you two feels like a thick fog. You want him, and you can tell that he wants you too, but the knowledge that he’s a virgin puts a damper on things.
You don't want to be the one to take his virginity. That's a big fucking responsibility, and it's not something that you take lightly. You start to wonder if maybe you should just call it a night and go home. But then Haechan speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be a virgin anymore."
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you turn to look at him, really look at him for the first time since you arrived. He looks vulnerable, and you can see the fear in his eyes. But you can also see the determination. He knows what he wants, and he's not going to let anything stand in his way.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You know what you want too, but you also know that this is a big deal. You can't just jump into things without thinking them through. "I don't know if I'm the right person for that, Haechan," you say finally. "Taking someone's virginity is a big deal. It's not something to be taken lightly."
Haechan nods, his eyes still locked with yours. "I know. But I trust you, Y/N." His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.
"Okay," you say finally. "Okay, we can do this.”
Somehow, the tables had turned on you; and this was getting a lot sappier than you had anticipated.
The awkwardness settles back into the room, Haechan staring at you with his doe eyes, the nervousness flitting about his delicate features.
It’s a beat – a short pause before he speaks so low you almost miss it, “You know I want to fuck you.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
Maybe he’d give you a logical answer and you’d understand; put your shirt back on and let him get back to his video games while you silently scrolled Instagram.
But when was he ever logical?
And when were you ever one to back down?
Faster than you can register, he’s pushing your shoulders backwards until you fall breathlessly against his pillow. He climbs over top of you, his usual goofy smirk replaced with an intensity you both had felt the night before at the frat house. “Nothing’s stopping me.” His breath tickles your cheeks, “But I can’t tell if you’re fucking serious or taking a joke way too far.” A scoff rumbles in his chest, “I’ve damn near bared my soul to you tonight.”
“Not a joke-” you try to argue, but he talks over you.
“Ya know, just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean you can treat me like a plaything.” his head lolls to the side, “Well I mean if you wanted to, you could – but that’s not the point..” He sighs, pressing his face closer to yours, so that you were almost nose to nose. One more inch and you’d be kissing him, “I’m trying to say that if this is a joke… I’m sorry, but I’m gonna fuck you.”
“I – Are you sure about this? You won’t regret anything in the morning?”
He scoffs, “Have you not been listening to me when I speak to you? I’ve been wanting this for ages,” Eyes, half-lidded with desire, wash over your exposed chest, “I’m not gonna regret a damn thing.”
The butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably when Haechan dips his head and captures your lips in a kiss. All you can taste is the fizziness of the redbull he’d been drinking earlier, and something undeniably him. It was urgent and wet, lips sliding over yours to deepen the kiss, dribbles of spit smearing on your cheeks. He was messy.
“No regrets.” You solidify, breath hitching in your throat when his hands cup your breasts – his thumbs flicking over your nipples.
He groans, hips desperately pushing against you, “Let me eat you out.” he asks, though it wasn’t really a question because he starts to lower himself down your figure; pressing wet kisses to your chest. First it’s your collarbone, then the swell of your breasts, all the way down until he hovered right above your skirt.
Your head is reeling with how forward he was, “You’re kinda bold for a vir-”
He slaps a rough hand over your jaw, “If you even so much as utter that word, I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat you won’t be able to speak for a week.” Tauntingly, he quirks an eyebrow as if to dare you, “And anyways,” he continues, moving his hand up to ruffle your hair, “Just because I’ve never stuck my dick between a woman’s thighs doesn’t mean I don’t know how to please one.”
It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, in shock or contemplation of his words, you weren’t sure.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that baby,” Lust drips from his words like venom, the pet name rolling off his tongue a little too certainly, “Sitting up here playing video games has made me exceptionally good with my hands,” he smirks, “and I guess I’m naturally good with my tongue… I don’t know, you’ll have to tell me, yeah?”
Furiously, you nod your head, eyes wide and marveling at this side of Haechan. The one slightly out of breath and bursting with the need to taste you. He was hot. More so than you were expecting. You should pay closer attention sometimes.
He doesn’t waste time undoing your skirt. Instead, he pushes it up until it bunched at your waist, and pretty pink panties were the only thing blocking him from doing what he wanted. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he pulls them down agonizingly slow. “So pretty.” he whispers.
Without hesitation, he flattens his tongue and licks up your slit, a low rumble building in his chest. You tasted exactly like he had imagined.
The contact makes you gasp, and you fumble around for something to hold onto – choosing his hair as the only viable option. One tug and he’s whining against your clit, hips pressing into the bed unbeknownst to you.
“Y-you like hair pulling?” You question, doing it again to test the waters. He doesn’t answer, just groans against your pussy, tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Strong arms hook underneath your hips and pull hard, until you’re sat right up against his face.
“Hyuck.” you whimper, legs shaking. He was relentless, nosing your clit and fucking you with his tongue – all but lapping at the embarrassing amount of arousal wetting the inside of your thighs. “Hyuck!”
He perks up, lips puffy and jaw shining in the dim light of his bedroom,  “What?”
You feel almost shy at his stare, a blush settling over your cheeks and burning hot at the back of your neck, “D-don’t wanna cum just yet.” You stutter out.
Surprisingly, he rolls his eyes, “Let me stretch you out a little bit, okay baby?” There’s no time for you to respond because two of his fingers press against your entrance and slide in with ease. Simultaneously he dives back in, teeth slightly grazing your clit.
“Fuck!” Your back arches up off the bed, hips rolling against his face. His fingers pump into you, the stretch leaving your thighs shaking.
“See baby, all done,” He slips his fingers out and gives you one final suckle, “God, I can’t wait to fuck you.”
Words are unattainable right now, head still reeling from how fucking good he was with his tongue. That’s where he’d gotten the most practice, but you weren’t expecting that. It was what – less than two minutes? Yet you were already fucked out, body buzzing with excitement. If that was just the beginning, what was to come?
While lost in your thoughts, Haechan rid himself of his shirt and shimmied his shorts down.
The video didn’t do him justice.
Yeah, he looked decently big on his phone screen, but after weeks of contemplation, you could only assume it was the angle.
Oh, how wrong you were.
His cock stood thick and heavy, proudly slapping his lower stomach when he moves to throw his clothes on the floor. It was red and leaking pre-cum, and your mouth waters. Oh, how you wanted to hop up and stuff him down your throat. You wanted to milk him until he was shaking and sobbing for you to stop.
But another part wanted him in you, now.
Deep lines of muscle were etched into his torso – contracting when he leant down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on his lips, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. Haechan was whimpering; all but shaking against you. The vibrations shot straight into your veins like a drug and when he pulls back and sits on his knees, you almost moan.
You are no better than a man.
Watching the way he touches his body, so soft and careful; tugging at his cock impatiently while his eyes are transfixed on the way your pussy clenches around nothing – it sends a desperate signal down between your thighs.
“Enough!” You whine, “Want you in me.”
His trademark smirk appears on his face, “Okay baby… but..,” he chews on his bottom lip in hesitation, “… I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last..”
“I don’t care!” You wail, annoyed, “Fuck me.”
“So demanding,” He huffs, hands fumbling to push your thighs apart. Looking to you for reassurance that everything was alright, he appeared somewhat uncertain and hesitant.
“It’s okay, ” you breathe, gasping when he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance. “Hold my hand!” It was a statement to make him feel surer of himself, but deep down, you knew it was because you were just as nervous.
Shakily, his hand slides into yours and pushes it against the pillow next to your head. He takes a deep breath. This is silly, he chides himself, just stick it in! You’ve been dreaming about this forever! Be a fucking man.
Slowly, he pushes himself fully into you while still maintaining eye contact.
“Fuck!” you both curse at the same time. His eyes flicker in the back of his head, lips trembling when he bottoms out, now sheathed inside your warm cunt. It’s taking everything in him not to cum right there – and you know it too. He stays like that for a minute longer – not moving, just processing.
“Hyuck…” You whimper, resting your legs on his back. He mumbles a mhm, too focused on steadying his breathing, getting his bearings, finding the will to actually fuck you. “Hyuck, you have to move.”
“M-maybe we should use a c-condom.” He stutters, eyelashes fluttering and tangling together. The interlocked grip on your hands falters when you rut your hips up against him. “F-fuck, we need to use a condom.” His breathing is labored as he tries to gather everything he’s feeling and seeing at once. The way your pussy sucks him in, squeezing around his length just fucking right, the feeling of your nipples brushing his chest every time he bottoms out, and the wet kisses being pressed to the juncture between his neck and collarbone. It was making his head dizzy, and he can feel himself already about to – “I’m gonna cum if you keep, fuck – y/n, stop kissing my n-neck.”
Lost in the satisfying pleasure of him stretching you out, you hadn’t even realized you were kissing him – everywhere. Licking at the place just below his earlobe, suckling bruises into the honey gold skin of his throat, and nipping at his jaw. And every time your lips or tongue grazed him, he shallowly thrusted into you – too caught up in the sensations to get a steady rhythm.
You purse your lips in a pout, pulling your head back to rest on the pillow, and stare up at him, “Why stop if you like it.”
“Good p-point.” He stutters out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Maybe that would hide the pink tinging his cheeks – the embarrassment. Or maybe it was because he wanted to be enveloped by you completely. “Fuck,” He groans, his cock dragging against your walls with a concentrated pace – like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. And if that was the case, he was succeeding. 
You mewl and moan every time he slips out of you, just to fuck into you deeper than before. Time doesn’t pass, you don’t register anything but the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach – one that catches you off guard. As you arch your body into his touch, your mind begins to cloud.
Words of praise spill from your lips uncontrollably, "You're doing so well," you murmur, and he whimpers. “So good Hyuckie,” You moan, feeling his head still buried in your neck. “Keep going, baby.” The encouragement rips a broken sob from his throat, but he keeps driving his cock between your legs. He couldn’t stop – how could he? You were like his own personal brand of heroin.
His voice comes out muffled when speaks, “Want you to- fuck.. need you to...” His fingers are trembling, jaw slacked as he forgets his train of thought, “Slow down, wait – I need you to, y/n.. oh fuck this.” a rush of air tickles your body as Haechan tightens his hold and flips you over; worming his way underneath your body so that your legs were now slotted over his waist, cock still pushing into you. “There we go,” he mutters.
The action sends your head spinning, and a squeal rips from your throat. “Woah!”
“Woah!” he mocks, bullying his cock into you at such a fast pace, you were battling to keep your balance. His hands held onto your hips so tightly, there were bound to be a few fingerprint shaped bruises tomorrow morning. But that didn’t matter – not when he was burying his length into you again and again and again, abusing your g-spot to the point you’re babbling nonsense.
Your thighs are quivering on either side of him, struggling to keep yourself bouncing on his cock. Equally shaky hands pepper his chest in an attempt to hold onto something as the fire in your stomach burns hotter. Every whimper, every sob, every moan that falls past his lips is like another burning ember – shooting and twisting through your veins.
“G-gonna cum, Hyuck, gonna – “ you mewl, clawing at his collarbones and shoulders.
A harsh slap lands on your ass as he continues to piston his hips up underneath you. Just hearing you say the words edges him even closer to his own orgasm, “Please baby, cum – shit, cum on my cock, you can do it.” He groans through gritted teeth. Another smack lands, “God, I know you can do it.”
Your eyes roll back as you completely fall apart – he never stopped fucking into you. Not even when you all but collapsed on top of him, heartbeat erratic and gasping for breath. Not even when you begged him to slow down, begged him to give you a chance to recover, maybe get into a different position.
“Just give me one second baby, fuck, I still need to cum,” Like a lightbulb went off, he perks, “Wait- where do you want me t-to cum,” He’s rocking his body into yours now, sweat rolling down his temple with the exertion of holding back. “An-Answer! I can’t hold it anymore you feel too fucking good.”
Swirled in your own euphoria, you barely register his words, yet you manage to whimper against his neck, “Cum in me Hyuckie, please, I’m on the pill.”
The permission is all he needs, but the nickname is what sends him straight into a head high that has him burying his cock deep in you and releasing. Strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you against his shaking body while spurts of cum flood your pussy. He sounds exactly like he did in the video he showed you a few weeks ago – like he was sobbing with relief. Whining and whimpering, lolling his head side to side as he fucks the last of his cum deep into you.
He tries not to move, he tries really fucking hard, but every time you twitched, it squeezed around him again and again – curses flying from his body as he tried to squirm away. He slips out of you quickly, cum smearing on his belly and all over your thighs, “That was…”
You can hear his heartbeat – almost as erratic as yours is, and he’s puffing air, trying to catch an even breath. Both of you are sticky and tired – worn the fuck out. If you tried to push yourself off of him, you think you might topple over, so you don’t. You stay locked in his embrace, listening to the way his breathing slows and chest thumps.
“That was what?”
He runs a hand through his hair, “Everything I’ve dreamt of.”
Giggling, you snuggle closer to him. Who knew he’d be the type to sweet talk after sex. With how much he boasted and teased, you thought he’d be more… you don’t know… arrogant? You liked this side of him though.
Ah, shut up! you think to yourself, you’re not falling in love with him, so stop.
Haechan was a friend no matter if he did just fuck your brains out.
“Gonna go to the bathroom.” you mumble. Anything to get away from him and the swirls of ooey-gooey feelings.  
Clambering off of him proved to be easier than you thought earlier, and the wobble to the bathroom was only slightly embarrassing. You thank God for privacy when you shut the door behind you.
As you look at your reflection in the mirror, you realize how much of a mess you are. Your hair is disheveled, mascara smudged and streaking, and your lipstick is smeared. Dark colored hickies scattered across your chest and collarbones. Despite this, you feel satisfied and content (Regardless of any stupid feelings that might be lingering).
Yet if Hyuck were to sneak in the bathroom behind you and beg for another round, you’d give it to him, no matter if the original challenge was a one and done kind of deal.
Your eyes widen into saucers… the challenge.
It was actually done – or at least partially.
You smirk.
Challenge 1/3 complete.
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Maybe you should have stayed the night, but you were gone before the sun peeked over the tree line.
Haechan was still faintly snoring when you had slipped out from underneath the covers, and he only slightly stirred when you accidentally banged your toe on his gaming chair. His parted lips, and tinged cheeks made him look like an innocent angel.
One that you corrupted.
As you hurriedly walk back to your dorm building, you can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt fluttering about your stomach.
“Was this really a one-time thing?” he had asked right before his eyes had fluttered closed.
You had sighed, fidgeting with a thread on his comforter, “I don’t know Hyuck… maybe… I – I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Perhaps his shoulders had deflated with disappointment at your response, but you’d like to think he was just tired.
“Okay, let’s pretend it never happened then. Everything can go back to normal and… and if you want, I’ll be here to satisfy you again.” He had grinned then, although rather grim.
“Deal.”
You shoulder your dorm door and drop your bag on the kitchen table before grabbing a water out of the fridge. Thirstily gulping, you realize that even though it was his first time, he knew how to wear you out.
Points for that, you think.
You quietly slip into your room and take a seat at your desk after tossing the crushed plastic bottle into the trashcan. This is the moment you've been waiting for - a chance to rate the very first boy in the challenge. You grab a stray notebook from a stack nearby, open it to a fresh page, and begin.
Points for doing good his first time…Points for multiple positions…Points for eating you out first…Points for being whiny…Points for being eager…
There wasn’t really a system for your rating, but you take a satisfied look at the number and nod your head.
Congratulation Hyuck, you’ve received a 7.4/10, you think.
Despite it being his first time, he did exceptionally well. Who else could have lasted as long as he did, said the things he did, or fucked the way he did. Slowly, you find yourself slipping back into the memories, a play-by-play from start to finish – until a ping from your pocket drags you out.
Your heart leaps up in your throat.
What if it was him? What if he was asking why you left?
When you pull your phone out from your back pocket, you sigh in relief. It was just Jaemin.
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You toss your phone onto your desk and slump against the chair. Jaemin didn’t press the question of why you were up… and hopefully he didn’t say anything during breakfast.
Pushing yourself upright, you dance through the laundry strewn across your floor and into the bathroom.
Despite what you said, you also had to wash the sex smell away. God, you were becoming just like Jaemin. Up at the ass crack of dawn to shower off cum and sweat and spit. Unexpectedly, you grip the shower curtain as a thought bounces around the inside of your skull.
Na Jaemin was just getting his dick wet… with Yeji, of all people. One of his recurring fwb situations.. But.. he was fucking her.
The video he had showed you the first night flashes through your brain. His cock thick and proud, pushing into the girl so fluidly, so rhythmically, so intensely. Until she squirted and he laughed. He had fucking laughed. You remember what he had said, “God you’re so fucking hot. NaNa did that, didn’t he? Mhm…come here pretty girl.”
And even though Haechan had pounded you into the next week, you feel yourself clenching around nothing.
Don’t worry Jaemin, your turn is next.
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A. NOTE | big thank you to lou, @peachjaem00, for helping me get over my writers block for this fic.. and for just being fucking awesome! i love you <3
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A Dance in Death
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Title: A Dance in Death
Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Word Count: ~3,927
In which Alastor takes the reader out to Mimzy’s club. Things go sideways much too soon, but the Radio Demon is quick to make amends.
A/N: Part 2 of sorts to my Never and Always series. Hope you enjoy!
Part 1, Part 3
Mimzy’s speakeasy was most known for three things. 
One, it was known for its captivating acts and performances. Demons and sinners from all around Pentagram City had heard stories and whispers about what could be experienced there. Two, it was known for being one of the most lively and entertaining places on this side of Hell. And three, it was known for being on the wrong side of town, making it the perfect place for no-good demons to spend their time and even do discrete business, so long as they paid their dues to Mimzy, of course.
That last point probably should have kept you away from this place. But you couldn’t help but feel safe knowing that you had come on the arm of the Radio Demon himself. After all, who would dare approach you with Alastor around?
Nobody, as it turned out. You and Alastor had been sitting in a corner booth for almost an hour now, and nobody had dared to come within ten feet of you, save for one unfortunate server who had graciously provided you both with your drinks before scurrying off and hiding, not coming back even once.
And although you enjoyed any time that you got to spend alone with Alastor, you couldn’t help but notice that the two of you were both on edge that night. 
You, on one hand, simply wanted to dance. It wasn’t often that you were able to go to bars or speakeasies, and you would have loved nothing more than to lead the demon across from you on to the dancefloor. But you knew better than that. Alastor’s interest in you came with limits that you hadn’t yet discovered, but you’d be double-damned if you were going to find them out tonight.
Although you had to admit, as you gazed out longingly at the dancing demons on the floor, that you wouldn’t mind at least trying to share a drink and a conversation with your partner. But that wouldn’t happen until Mimzy finally decided to saunter over to your table.
Which led you to the reason for Alastor’s impatience.
The whole reason that he had invited you out tonight was because Mimzy had requested an audience with him at her place of business. To discuss what, you weren’t sure, but you knew that the Radio Demon hated to be kept waiting. 
His impatience was starting to become evident, though it was likely that nobody around you noticed anything amiss. You, however, had become well versed in reading Alastor’s silent cues.
He had yet to touch his drink, though his clawed hand was firmly wrapped around the glass. He was surveying the building with apparent disinterest, but you could see the way that his sharp gaze roamed over each and every other demon and sinner present. You could see tension in the corners of his ever present smile, even though his eyes were hooded in an expression of mild boredom.
As you downed the last drops of your drink, you risked a glance over to Alastor once again. You had wanted to strike up a conversation since you had stepped foot through the door, but hadn’t wanted to distract him from his thoughts. But when his grip around the glass tightened once again, your internal war finally ended. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to have him suddenly lose his composure and bring the whole place to the ground.
You cleared your throat lightly as you placed your glass back down on the table. You received Alastor’s attention immediately, his eyes darting over to yours. “Yes, my dear?”
You smiled back at him. “Mimzy has a lot of nerve hyping this place up when it has such terrible customer service, doesn’t she?”
With no small amount of satisfaction, you noticed Alastor’s smile ease into something that almost resembled kind amusement. “Indeed,” Alastor hummed. “Though I must say, her choice in song is quite enjoyable.”
You shrugged, looking back at the dance floor. “It’s fine to dance to, I suppose. Not so much fun when you’re stuck sitting and waiting for someone to show up.”
There was no response. You returned your gaze to Alastor to see him looking at you almost curiously. “I wasn’t aware that you were one for dancing, my dear.”
A laugh bubbled up and pushed its way through your lips before you could stop it. You pressed your fingers to your lips to try and conceal it as Alastor tilted his head at you in confused interest.
At the sound of your laughter, his shadow suddenly perked up, quickly making its way over and sitting beside you.
When your giggle had finally subsided, you opened your mouth to respond to Alastor’s comment. It wasn’t completely his fault that he knew so little about your past life, after all, but you hadn’t expected that he, of all people, would make such blatant assumptions.
Before you could get a word out, though, the shadow placed a clawed hand under your chin, tilting your head to face it. Its fingers wandered until they reached the base of your throat before gently clawing their way back up, almost as if trying to coax another laugh out of you through touch alone.
It was so much more intimate than you had thought Alastor was capable of.
But then Alastor waved a hand in the air, summoning his shadow back to his side. It obeyed almost immediately, caressing your throat once more before melting back into the floor and returning to its rightful place. 
You cleared your throat again, this time in an attempt to fight the red spots on your cheeks. Not that their presence had escaped Alastor’s notice. His smile had widened dramatically, though thankfully, he chose not to comment on the interaction, instead waiting for a response to his earlier comment.
“I do dance,” you finally replied, looking back up at the Overlord. “I used to dance plenty before…well, you know,” you said with a small grin. “I died.”
Alastor waved away your comment with a flourish. “Ah, yes, I do see how such a thing could impede on your abilities for a moment. Though, if I’m not mistaken, you now have two perfectly functioning legs.”
“But I haven’t been to a club since before I died. And there’s not much opportunity to show off my moves at the hotel,” you replied with a shrug. You tilted your head at the demon. “And you? Do you dance?”
The Overlord smiled wistfully. “Oh yes, I was quite known for my dancing abilities back in the land of the living.”
“I thought you were known for being a mass murdering radio host.”
Alastor shrugged, giving you a devious grin. “I’ve always been multitalented, my dear.”
You laughed again, this time trying to ignore the eager look you received from both Alastor and his shadow.
“You know,” you said slyly once you had calmed yourself, looking down at your empty glass. “I wouldn’t mind brushing up on my skills tonight after your meeting.” You looked up innocently, meeting Alastor’s eyes. “If you haven’t lost your impeccable skills, that is.”
The demon’s eyes flashed. “Careful, mon chere. I-”
“Alastor! How’re you doing, doll?”
You whipped your head around at the sound of the new voice. You stared as a short, blonde woman made her way across the floor, arms raised in welcome and a broad smile on her face. 
Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all bothered as he greeted the woman. “Mimzy, dear,” he drawled, turning away from you. His smile stretched unnaturally. “You are extraordinarily late.”
The woman- Mimzy- waved her hand in indifference. “I’m busy running a business, Al, you know how it is. Can’t eva get anyone to do what you want without a bit of prodding.”
Her gaze slid over to you, eyes widening as her smile grew. “Say, Alastor, did you bring me a new toy?” Her eyes roamed over you slowly. “She’s a little dull, but I can spruce her right up.”
You suddenly felt very exposed.
You recoiled slightly, attempting to keep your movements unnoticeable as you pressed yourself further into the booth to get away from the Mimzy’s prying eyes. 
You tried not to notice the way that other demons and sinners had begun to glance over at the sudden appearance of the bar’s owner. They aren’t looking at you, you told yourself. But you couldn’t help but take in Mimzy’s confident appearance and attitude, coupled with Alastor’s calm poise. You could see how the Mimzy could have mistaken you for one of Alastor’s wayward souls.
Almost as if it could sense your discomfort, Alastor’s shadow suddenly reared up and placed itself directly in front of you, blocking you from Mimzy’s line of sight. 
“Unfortunately, Mimzy dear,” Alastor said from opposite you, though he avoided looking in your direction. “Charlie has grown quite attached to her little friend, and I doubt she would be thrilled to discover that I had allowed her to become a part of your…”
“Productions,” you piped up. Alastor’s shadow looked back at you in delight before shifting through the air to sit beside you once again.
“Precisely,” Alastor said.
Mimzy only shrugged, giving you a wink. “Well, I’m here if you change your mind, hun.” 
She turned back to Alastor. “Let’s you and me talk for a bit, huh? I know this sorta thing ain’t really your cup of tea. I’ve got a room in the back that we can use. Your little doll will be alright on her own for a while, won’t she?”
At her words, Alastor finally turned to face you once again, his eyes roaming over your face for only a moment before he stood. “Of course. I never would have brought her otherwise.”
With that, he made to follow Mimzy without so much as a glance back in your direction. A move that he had made on purpose, you were sure. After all, it simply wouldn’t do to have others believe that the Radio Demon actually cared for someone.
Even so, you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment as the two sinners walked away. From beside you, in the dim light that the club so generously provided, Alastor’s shadow placed its hand on yours comfortingly. You turned to face it with a smile. “At least I still have you.”
The shadow grinned, using its other hand to gently cradle your cheek, pulling you closer until your foreheads met. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling as your heart grew light. The shadow might not have been Alastor himself, but you had learned enough to know that it was heavily influenced by Alastor’s own thoughts, feelings, and commands. This was as close to affectionate that he would ever be with you.
Suddenly, the shadow’s touch left you.
You opened your eyes to see that it was nowhere to be seen.
“My, my,” a voice said from behind you. You jerked forward in surprise, spinning around to see a tall, winged imp casually leaning against the booth. He definitely hadn’t been in the building a few minutes ago, you noted. 
The imp leaned forward. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”
You flushed, glancing around to see if you could catch a glimpse of Alastor’s shadow. But it was as if it had never been beside you in the first place. Which would explain why the imp had decided to approach you at all. Nobody would have dared spoken to you if they knew that you were here with an Overlord.
You opened your mouth to tell him as much before you caught yourself, clamping your mouth shut. No matter how well Alastor’s conversation went with Mimzy, it was likely that he never would have danced with you anyway. There were too many eyes and ears here for him to let his guard down.
“You here alone?” the imp asked, trying his luck once more.
You fixed a smile on your face. If this was your only chance to dance, you were sure as Hell going to take it.
You stood, extending your hand in greeting. “Would you like to dance?”
The imp’s flirtatious smile changed to one of intrigue. “Straight to the point. I like it.”
You wiggled your fingers. “Are we going to dance, or what?”
The imp grinned, taking your hand and leading you on to the dance floor. 
Sure, it wasn’t exactly what you were hoping for when you and Alastor had come to Mimzy’s club, but you figured that it would at least be a decent substitute for something that you would never be able to have.
You felt your smile slipping as the pair of you began to move to the music. 
You hated moments like these, when you realized that no matter what you did or how you felt, you would never be able to show your feelings for Alastor in public. It wasn’t just the fact that he disliked physical touch, which you had never faulted him for. It was the fact that as one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords, he felt the overwhelming need to keep up an appearance. One that did not, unfortunately, include you.
A gentle touch snapped you back to reality. “You alright?” the imp asked.
No, you weren’t. But you weren’t going to let that stop you from dancing.
You nodded, taking the imp’s hand in yours as you began to move to the music once again. “I’m fine.” You smirked. “Now, show me what you’ve got.”
~~~
If you were to later ask anyone at Mimzy’s speakeasy what had happened that night, you would probably receive a whole mix of stories.
Some would say that the Radio Demon had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, his antlers growing and his bones cracking as he laid waste to the bar, presumably for fun or out of an unjust anger.
Others would say that he had come to seek some sort of revenge on a winged imp that had been spotted dancing before he suddenly disappeared, not to be seen again.
One specific witness, who shall remain nameless, would say that she had been speaking to an old friend about a business opportunity that he had foolishly taken no interest in. As she was speaking, a shadow had entered the room, whispering in its owner's ear. Her old friend had walked away from her, re-entering her bar, where he was met with the view of an imp dancing with the very woman that he had brought here in the first place.
The witness hadn’t even had time to blink before her friend had taken on his true demon form, batting people aside as if they were only flies before promptly picking up the imp dancing with the woman and melting into the shadows with him.
When her friend returned, he refused to say what he had done with the poor imp, though the witness had no trouble making a few assumptions. He had walked over to the women, gently taken her hand, and gave the witness a clipped farewell before vanishing with the women into the shadows.
It was a brutal display, even for the Radio Demon. If the witness had to guess, she would assume that perhaps the woman had something to do with the whole debacle.
Not that she would ever say so to anyone else, of course. She knew better. 
You, however, had no trouble saying straight to Alastor’s face what you believed had happened. 
“We were dancing, Al. It was harmless. If I’d needed your help, you would have known.”
“You would never have summoned me if he was threatening you, my dear.”
You groaned and buried your face in your hands. The two of you had been going back and forth like this ever since he had so graciously brought you back to the hotel from Mimzy’s bar.
You lifted your head and took a breath before continuing. “If he was threatening me, we probably wouldn’t have been just dancing.”
Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously, his shadow rearing up and scowling in disgust. 
You whirled around and pointed at the shadow. “And you. You went and told him that something bad was happening, didn’t you? You are a liar and a rat, my friend.”
At your words, the shadow suddenly shrank down in size and hid behind its owner, almost as if trying to avoid your accusatory glare.
Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t break eye contact. “He only meant to protect you, my dear, the way he was instructed to.”
“What did you think I would need protecting from, exactly? I can’t exactly die again, can I?”
“There are things far worse than a second death, my dear,” Alastor said with false sweetness.
He was right, you knew. You had almost been subjected to such a thing after your death, when you had sold your soul to the Vees. You still weren’t sure exactly how it had happened, but Alastor himself had found out about you and somehow saved you from a life of imprisonment and torture. 
Not everyone was as lucky as you were.
But that wasn’t why you were upset. 
As soon as Alastor had saved you from the Vees, you had been determined to help him even a fraction of the way that he had helped you. You owed him so much more than that, you knew, but it was the only thing that you could give. And so, from that moment forward, you had tried your very best to become a solid and stable presence for Alastor, unmoving in your trust in him and, hopefully, eventually something like a friend.
But tonight, you had done the exact opposite. To see the Radio Demon defend you was to know that he felt things like affection, or even something more than indifference. That wouldn’t do for his reputation at all, you knew, and you hated yourself for being the cause of it.
You sighed in defeat, crossing your arms over your chest in defense. “I know that,” you said, holding your position and glaring daggers at the Overlord. “But I also know that you risked a lot today by protecting me. I’m not worth losing your power over-”
You gasped as Alastor appeared directly in front of you, glaring intensely. He didn’t lift a finger, but you swore you could feel the heat of his gaze.
“I do hope you haven’t finally started to doubt me, my dear.”
“Never,” you promised, searching his gaze.
The Overlord stepped back, his stretched out smile immediately concealing his true feelings. “Wonderful,” he said. “Then we both understand that my power and status will forever remain.”
You nodded once before finally breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at the floor.
You could feel the anger seeping out of you slowly, replaced by embarrassment. Of course Alastor would never give up his power for you. Even if someone had truly seen the incident, it was unlikely that anyone would ever be able to use it to their advantage. You were talking about the Radio Demon himself, after all.
“You’re right,” you muttered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “I made a foolish assumption.” You smiled to yourself. “I seem to be full of those today. I’m sorry.”
You were met with silence. 
But before you could look up, you suddenly felt the cool touch of a shadow. It rested its hands against your cheeks, tilting your head up to make eye contact. It moved its thumbs in slow circles, leaning down until your foreheads were touching. It didn’t move any closer than that, but you knew that this was more than anyone else had ever received.
It was lovely.
But oh, how you wished it were really him.
The shadow stepped back, returning to its place beside its owner.
Alastor himself acted as though he hadn’t noticed the interaction at all, instead looking around your room as if seeing it for the first time.
“I do plan to maintain my powers, my dear,” Alastor repeated. 
Before you could even open your mouth to reply, he pushed forward. “Although,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “I certainly wouldn’t mind losing a few souls to keep what is most certainly mine.” 
He looked towards you then, his gaze hard, as if daring you to argue.
And you should have. You should have told him that you weren’t worth losing souls for. You should have told him that you only wanted to help him, never hinder him. 
You should have done lots of things.
What you did do, however, was smile and duck your head to hide your rising blush. 
You looked back up and extended your hand wordlessly.
Alastor looked down at it before glancing back up at you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question as his shadow looked on eagerly from behind him.
Your smile only widened. “I believe, good sir, that you owe me a dance.”
The shadow nearly leapt with excitement, rushing forward and taking your hand. 
You laughed at its enthusiasm before Alastor stepped forward and waved his hand, whisking the shadow away and taking its place. 
He placed his hand under yours, bringing your hand up to place a soft kiss on the back of your knuckles before releasing you and straightening. Slowly, he brought his claws to the base of your throat before gently dragging them back up until he reached your chin. He tilted your face up further to meet his gaze before dropping his hand down to yours once more.
With his other hand, he waved his staff, summoning a slow dance tune that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.
You tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks and looked up curiously. “Didn’t you used to dance to songs that were a bit more lively?”
Alastor smiled gently down at you before summoning his shadow and surrendering his staff to it. “I did indeed, mon chere. But we aren’t exactly alive now, are we?”
You smiled back in agreement. “No, I suppose we’re not.”
You placed your hand on his shoulder as he placed his hand on your waist. He lowered his head down until your foreheads were touching and began swaying, taking you with him on his slow trek around your bedroom floor.
You couldn’t have asked for anything more.
~~~
If you asked anyone at the hotel what had happened in your room that night, you would receive a few different stories.
Angel Dust would have told you that the Radio Demon had suckered a poor woman into going out with him that night, and you were most likely getting it on.
Charlie would have told you that she hadn’t seen either Alastor or the hotel’s newest resident all evening, though she doubted that the two of you had gone off somewhere together. Right?
Husk would have told you that he felt sorry for the woman who had gotten caught in the Radio Demon’s line of sight. You were such a sweet thing, and you deserved so much better.
You would have simply smiled and shrugged, giving nothing away.
Nobody would have dared ask the Radio Demon, of course.
But if anyone had bothered to ask the shadows, they would have received a rather lovely story about two sinners who had found their peace, only for a moment, dancing in each other’s arms that night. 
An Overlord and a sinner. 
A woman and a man. 
Two damned souls, finding home at last.
A/N 2: I didn’t get to proofread, but I hope you guys still enjoyed it! If you read the first fic (or even if you haven’t), I’m thinking of making another part where it’s platonic Angel Dust x reader and he finally gets to give her a makeover. Let me know if you want to be tagged!
Also, I want to write more Alastor x reader (maybe a continuation of sorts, maybe not) so let me know if you guys want to be tagged in those!
Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx-blog @maybememoriesx
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nikkento-writes · 1 month
Text
Rub You the Right Way - Part 3
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Part 1 | Part 2
Pairing: Choso x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Word Count: ~3.0k
cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – cunnilingus, use of sex toys, cum eating, PIV sex (missionary), breeding and pregnancy kink
Summary: You and Choso are next-door neighbors who are very much smitten with one another. After a month of dirtying up third base as much as possible, the both of you are finally ready to hit it out of the park. 
Author’s Notes: Baseball euphemisms because why not LOL? Thank you for reading! I love these dorks so much! This is the final installment of this teeny tiny series, so thank you all so much for the love and support on this, it means the world to me! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.
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“Damn, that was good!” Yuji exclaims, licking off the last of the chicken katsu curry from the rim of the bowl. He leans back on one hand, rubbing his belly with the other, a loud belch escaping his mouth. “Oops, sorry,” he apologizes, only a little bit embarrassed.
You giggle, stacking his empty dish on top of the others, standing up to place it in the sink. “I’m so glad you liked it. I couldn’t have done it without your brother, though. He’s a really good teacher.” 
“See, I told you, didn’t I?” Yuji smirks, pleased with himself. 
“It’s not hard to make, especially with the boxed curry mix.” Choso’s voice is bashful, downplaying the praise from both you and his brother. Still, you can sense the tiniest hint of pride in there.
“He’s too modest.” You return to the table to sit next to him, nudging him playfully.
Yuji rolls his eyes. “I know! It’s so frustrating! Seriously, you’ve got to give yourself more credit, bro. You’re awesome.” The blush on Choso’s cheeks are adorably obvious now as he continues to wave off the compliments. 
“Yeah, you really are,” you reiterate, resting your hand on top of his thigh, squeezing him gently. With the table obscuring his view, Yuji can’t see this small gesture, nor does he notice the subtle way Choso reacts, flustered and slightly aroused. He’s been wanting to touch you all night, but not in front of his precious baby brother, who remains clueless to the extent of your relationship. Before you can pull away completely, not wanting to rattle him any further, he hooks his pinky with yours, his grip unyielding. You smile to yourself, the two of you linked together while you chat with Yuji about your plans the rest of the night, which consists of Choso teaching you how to make a lovely castella cake, amongst other not-so-innocent activities. For the sake of Yuji’s virtue, you decide to leave that part out. 
It's been over a month now that you and Choso started your relationship after that unfortunate package mix-up, which ended up not being unfortunate at all. By total accident, you unboxed his brand spanking new Cock Sucker 3000, and in a bizarre attempt to alleviate any awkwardness from the situation, you proceeded to use your own sex toy in front of him while he demonstrated his, resulting in the hottest night of your life. Two days following that, after another ridiculous misunderstanding, the both of you realized your feelings for one another and decided to give this a shot. 
You’ve learned so much about him, most importantly that he’s quite the fragile soul, often distrusting of strangers right off the bat. The last thing you want is for him to lose his trust in you, so taking it day-by-day, little-by-little, is what works the best for the both of you. The two of you have remained on third base when it comes to sex, which you’re not complaining about one bit, considering how voracious you’ve been with each other. You’re waiting for the right time to finally hit that home run, a grand slam at this rate. It could happen tonight, tomorrow, maybe even a few more months from now. All you know for certain is that you’re happy with Choso, and he’s happy with you. That’s all that matters.
However, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t fantasizing about it already. You can’t help yourself when you’re with him. In front of others, he’s usually more reserved, timid. Alone with you, his confidence unveils. His touches are assured all over your body, an expert at all the big and little ways to make you moan in pleasure. The range of expressions he’s willing to show you, from unabashedly needy to absolutely feral, make your body tingle just thinking about it. And that voice, sweet and soft when he’s coaxing you, then to that sexy, gruffy tone as he ravishes you, whether it’s with his fingers, his mouth, his firm grip on the vibrator. It’s no shock that you’ve imagined the perfect way he’d slide into you, filling you up to the brim with his massive cock. Hell, you’ve admitted it to each other several times already, how badly you both want it, how good it’d feel to be bounded together as one. You keep reminding yourself to be patient, because when it does happen, it will be well worth the wait. 
The three of you hang out a while longer until Yuji announces that he’s leaving to get ready for a party with his friends. Choso gives his brother a big hug, handing him a small bag of leftovers to take with him back to his university apartment. “Don’t party too hard this weekend,” he warns him sternly, sounding like a protective parent. “Behave yourself. Don’t make Fushiguro take care of you and Kugisaki again.” 
Yuji beams at him. “Megumi likes taking care of us! That’s his idea of fun!” He looks at you, a mischievous grin on his face. “You two behave yourselves too, alright? Don’t forget to use protection.” 
Shit. Okay, so maybe he does know.
Choso stiffens, an uncomfortable noise gurgling in his throat, clearly stunned by Yuji’s remark. You let out a loud and nervous laugh, desperately trying to play it cool, though you two idiots couldn’t make this any more obvious. “We’re just making castella cake, remember? We’re not having sex at all! Just some good clean fun here, nothing naughty! Right, Choso?” You’re so frazzled that you accidentally kick your boyfriend a tad too hard in the ankle, enough for him to yelp. “Right, Choso?!”
Sweat beads on your forehead while he bumbles incoherently now, failing to his explain your bizarre reactions to his younger brother, who just stands there, very pleased with himself. “Oh, I meant oven mitts,” Yuji smiles innocently, completely unfazed. “You know, for your hands.” He turns on his heel to see himself out while Choso continues to gape at him. “See you two lovebirds next week!” he calls out from over his shoulder, waving until he’s out of sight.
Choso unclenches to close the door while you bury your face in your palms, ashamed of yourself. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
He surrounds you in his sweet embrace, relaxed and actually laughing. “At least you said something. I just stood there like an idiot.”
You peer up at him, pouting at him. “You’re not an idiot, take it back.”
“I take it back,” he relents, giving you a kiss on the forehead. 
Nuzzling your nose to his, you mention, “I guess that was our way of telling him, right?”
“I had a hunch he already knew,” he responds. “Yuji’s no dummy. He was already telling me stuff a few weeks ago.”
“What did he say?”
“Well, he was the one who told me to be friends with you. He’s even the one who first suggested inviting you to our family dinners.”
Your heart swells in your chest. “Really?”
He nods, a kind smile on his face. “Yeah. Yuji is a sweet kid, so I figured he was just being polite. But maybe he sees you and me being…y’know.”  
You smirk, giddy to hear the rest of his sentence. “What?”
His voice is quiet, shy from the sudden vulnerability he’s displaying. “A good fit? I don’t know, what do you think?” Despite all that’s happened between the two of you within a month, Choso still has his doubts, his insecurities. The last relationship he had ended because he caught his ex cheating. From then on, he’s been reluctant to let his guard down and trust someone with his heart again. You don’t blame him for being so cautious when it comes to love, so you do everything in your power to validate his emotions, reassure him that you care for him just as much as he cares for you. 
You hold him close, your heart thumping at a rapid pace. “I think we’re a perfect fit.” 
He swallows down whatever nerves were tightening in his throat, relieved to hear you say it, even though he’s never doubted your true intentions. Hearing it in your voice, seeing it in your kind eyes gives him the strength to tear down all the walls he’s built around himself to let you in. Inching closer, voice still quiet, he asks, “Can we…?”
You don’t let him finish his thought as you lean forward to press your lips to his. His arms squeeze you in a tighter embrace, nearly lifting you off your feet as he kisses you passionately. Your mouths move seamlessly together, his hands gliding smoothly along your waist, yours gently caressing his face, proving that the two of you are the perfect fit indeed. There’s dishes in the sink waiting to be washed, a castella cake waiting to be baked, but who are you kidding? This is what you need right now, to have Choso’s body on yours, to taste him, to devour him, completely lose yourself in him. And that’s exactly what he needs too. 
The two of you make your way inside his bedroom, not letting the other go for even a second, kisses sloppy now, all tongue and spit. He’s quick to undress you, palms moving evenly beneath your blouse. You stretch your arms up, letting him remove it completely, his eyes fixated on your breasts, still covered by your bra. He squeezes at them, his grip firm, thumbs brushing across your nipples. Desperate to feel him without this extra layer of clothing, you turn around, wanting him to unhook the clasp, which he does. His lips graze you, peppering soft kisses along your shoulder while he pinches at your nipples with the perfect amount of pressure to have you moaning. “You love it when I play with your tits like this,” he whispers, mouth hot on your ear. It isn’t a question; he says it with confidence, bordering on cockiness with the way he smirks at every little whine that escapes you. You love this switch from shy and sweet to bold and unashamed, always eager to fulfill his sexual appetite for you. 
“I do,” you answer breathlessly, his cock hard and throbbing between your ass cheeks as you grind against him. “You know I do, baby.”
“Fuck, I love it when you call me that,” he groans, sucking on your ear lobe. One hand travels past your navel, tugging at your waistband. 
Your crane your neck to meet his lips. “You’re my baby. You’re all mine, Choso.”
He moans into your mouth, lapping at your tongue. “Yeah, I’m yours. I’m all yours.”
You slide out of your pants, leaving your panties on, the silk ones he adores on you. On the bed, you lie on your back, watching him strip the rest of his clothes off while he towers over you, licking his lips when he positions in his head between your spread legs. He’s been indulging in this recently, eating you out through your panties, getting them soaking wet with his spit and your slick. His gaze meets yours, those typically kind eyes hiding something feral brewing inside him. He’s masterful with his tongue, spreading it wide on your clit, puckering his lips around you until you’re squirming. You grab hold of his head, grasping strands of his soft hair as he devours you. 
As if this wasn’t enough for him, he hums into your skin, pointing at the bedside drawer. He doesn’t have to say it; you already know what he wants. You’ve made it a habit now to keep a few of your sex toys at his place, including your most favorite vibrator, the same exact one you demonstrated for him when all of this first started. It soon became his favorite too. You pass it to him shakily, already at the edge, ready to burst any second. He takes it, holding the tip to your covered clit, the fabric properly drenched now. The vibrations start instantly as he pushes the button, causing you to jolt from the sensation. “Fuck!” you cry out, toes curling, knees wobbly. “Please, Choso.”
“Please what?” he teases, stroking his cock with his free fist. 
“Please take them off,” you beg, writhing below him.
He smiles wickedly, hooking the waistband of your underwear, slowly peeling them off you. “That’s my good girl.”
You kick them off frantically, immediately spreading yourself for him once more. “Hurry, baby,” you whine. 
With the vibe still buzzing in his hand, he leans down, giving you a wet smooch on your clit, then presses the fluttering tip to it. Pleasure radiates from your core to every limb of your body and you eventually reach your first climax of the night. 
“God, I love how fucking wet you get,” Choso moans, licking up and down your slit, savoring your orgasm. “So fucking sexy. Makes me want to come.” Precum leaks from the tip of his dick as he jerks himself faster, lips coated in your arousal as he continues to use the toy on you while drinking every drop of you up. 
“Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,” you say, trying to catch your breath. It’s both too much and not enough. The vibrations are relentless on your clit, his tongue hot and wet on your pussy. You’re drunk off this, head light as air, vision getting hazy. Drool spills from one side of your lips, losing control of your composure as you succumb to yet another orgasm, this time, with two of his fingers inside you. 
“So greedy,” he grins, his cock stiff against his abdomen. He takes his digits out of you, spreading your cum on his shaft. “You want more, sweetheart?”
You reach for his cock, desperate to have him fully inside you. “I want all of you.”
His demeanor changes at this, almost like you’ve said the magic words. He swallows nervously, stopping the toy and setting it aside. “Are you serious?”
You smile, nodding at him. “I want all of you, Choso. But if you’re not ready – ”
“I’m ready.” It stumbles out of his mouth in a rush, as if he’s been meaning to say it for a while now. “I want you. I always want you.”
“You have me.” You tug him towards you, wrapping your arms and legs around him, nuzzling your nose to his. “You’ll always have me.” 
He kisses you, humming softly against your lips. “You’re amazing,” he whispers, tapping the tip of his dick on your swollen clit. 
You twitch at his touch, already sensitive from earlier, but still so needy to be filled by him. “Hurry,” you beg him, gyrating your hips, losing your patience. 
“Condom,” he mutters, reaching towards your nightstand, eyes focused on how close his cock is to being inside you. 
You snap yourself out of whatever dangerous desires are playing through your head and nod in agreement, stretching your arm out to open the drawer, blindly retrieving the box of condom wrappers and small bottle of lube. With trembling fingers, he unwraps the condom, rolling it over his cock, coating a generous amount of lube on it. He eases inside you, both of you moaning as you stretch around him perfectly. When he’s to the hilt, he stays still for a moment, kissing you fervently, so happy to finally be connected with you like this. “Is this good?” he asks, always adorably concerned about you. 
You giggle, hugging him tighter. “It’s amazing baby.”
Reassured, he starts thrusting, pulling out ever-so-slightly to pound right back inside you. You squeeze every inch of him as he fucks you deeper, fighting the urge to come on the spot. It’s so damn good, too fucking good, like he’s on this euphoric high, impossible to come down. He can’t believe how incredible this feels, even with the condom on, and it makes him want to burst thinking about the near future when he’ll have a chance to do you without it. How pretty you’d look with his cum spilling out you. That fucked-out expression on your face as you beg him to breed you. The gorgeous belly when you’re pregnant with his baby...
Choso has to physically shake his head to rid these obscene fantasies from his thoughts. He really can’t help himself when he’s with you. Grunting with each thrust, he resists the temptation to pull this condom off to give it to you raw, reminding himself that patience is a virtue and that the two of you have all the time in the world.
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to come. As soon as you’re right at the edge of your third climax of the night, you cry out, “Right there, baby! Fuck me right there!” holding him tight as you spill all over his cock. He comes as soon as you finish, certain that if you weren’t using protection and assuming you’re currently ovulating, he’d surely get you pregnant with how fucking intense this load was. Choso pulls out, carefully pulling off the condom, taking a couple of seconds to marvel at all the cum you managed to draw out of him. You laugh, watching him as he ties the open end to toss into the nearby trash bin. “Is it a lot?”
He snuggles up next to you, nuzzling his nose to your neck, back to his precious puppy-dog cuteness. “If we weren’t using protection, it would have definitely gotten you pregnant.”
You joke, “And is that a bad thing?”
He rests a hand on your stomach, his touch tender and sweet. “Not at all. I wouldn’t mind raising a little baby with you.”
Normally, you’d freak out. Normally, Choso would freak out. But for some odd reason, the idea of sharing a future together, of raising a family together, seems right. And while it’s only been a month, you’re both confident that the two of you will be spending a long, healthy, loving life with each other. 
Choso’s phone vibrates on the nightstand, rousing the two of your from your post-coital snuggle session. When he reads whatever notification he’s received, he chuckles, turning the screen towards you, displaying a text message from Yuji:
So…how’s that castella cake? ;)
He types up a quick reply before putting his phone on silent to spend the rest of the night cuddling you uninterrupted. 
Absolutely perfect.
281 notes · View notes
shxxxbi · 1 month
Text
EVERYTHING THAT WASN'T INCLUDED IN LOVE SEA THE SERIES 🌊
Episode 2 (Chapters: 4 - 8)
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Why get your hands dirty?
One of the biggest differences between the novel and the show is Tongrak's attitude during intimate times with Mut. Rak is very horny for Mut ever since he first lays eyes on him, often wondering what he tastes like or what sex with him would be like but, despite his bold thoughts, Tongrak tends to be very submissive during spicy times. Here for example, Rak doesn't eat the urchin himself, nor does he suck Mut's finger on his own. It's Mahasamut who starts caressing his lips and then slowly forces them apart with his finger. Rak lets it happen, thrilled by this new situation he had never encountered before, where "the hunter in him felt like it was being hunted".
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🍑
Though depicted as a blowjob in the show, what you should know about our little island treasure is that Mut is a man who eats ass. He worships ass. He'd eat ass all day, if he could. And he is terribly good at it. At least that's what Rak tells us, as he finds his thighs pushed up against his stomach and gets devoured by a wicked tongue that doesn't stop, even after Tongrak cums.
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Happy horny puppy
Despite initially doubting his abilities, Mahasamut isn't mad at Tongrak for rushing him back to the island to work. He isn't angry, upset nor irritated that he couldn't get to release or that the writer is ignoring him. Mahasamut is happy. He's happy that Tongrak finally looks like he's enjoying his work. He is happy that Tongrak is smiling looking at the screen. He is happy that Rak's eyes now "sparkled with life". However, as he admired the writer working, Mut couldn't stop his eyes from lingering on the fair neck smeared with sand and reddening from sunburn. He wanted to bite into that neck and taste again "how sweet that fair skin was".
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Money is not a problem
At this words, both of them closed the distance "as if they had been waiting for this moment all along". Tongrak's submissive nature shows again quickly, as Mut scoops his leg to bring their lower parts together: he complies easily when the younger boy brings his hand to hold them and rub against eachother, while a hot mouth licks and nips at the skin of his neck. Tongrak is delirious with excitement, he loves it when Mahasamut bites him and Mut knows it. He seems to know exactly where to suck, lick and bite to drive the older man crazy, to the point where the only words he could get out are "Mahasamut, suck, suck more. Ah, it's so good", as he kept grinding into Mut like an animal in heat.
Since he had already given in, why hide his desires any longer?
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🌶️
Another thing you should know about Mut is that doesn't only eat ass, he spanks ass. After picking a condom that fit him, he turns around to find Tongrak on all fours on the bed, his legs spread wide. The sight provoking the young boy to the point he couldn't help but slap those cheeks. His desire for the writer was unbearable, making him thrust deep into the man. His size so big, it fills Rak in all the right places, bringing tears to his eyes.
"Can you take it?"
"I don't know, Mahasamut, I don't know."
As they fucked, Mahasamut wondered where to kiss and touch to make the person in his embrace melt, only to find out shortly after that Tongrak loved him plunging deep, even after the writer had already climaxed.
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"Damn it, Rak, how could you let him do something like that?!"
Our little princess may have kicked Mut out of the room, and out of him, after the younger boy had tried to kiss him at the end of their sexy times. But his thoughts were quite different. Rak considered the sex exceptional, in the top three experiences of his life. It was so good he'd "almost choked to death trying to suppress the desire for another round".
Also, despite being kicked out, Mahasamut made sure a set of fragrant Thai food was delivered to Rak's room, so that the he could eat something before falling asleep.
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The boy is mine
Tongrak tried to ignore it at first. He really did. But then a question popped into his head.
"How could he let his dog go and rub up against someone else's legs after he'd already bought it?"
As for Mut, he loved it. He loved that Tongrak showed possessiveness over him, just as much as he liked being a dog on a leash.
"Damn, he is too cute. I just want to fuck him right here, right now".
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"It hurts!"
Hearing Tongrak's words, or rather Mr. Cutie as Mut liked to think of him, he quickly bent down to check if the other man's legs had been too close to the exhaust pipe or if he'd been hit by a stone along the way. After knowing the reason, Mahasamut helps Rak get off the bike by wrapping his arm around the writer's waist. He proceeds to tell Tongrak he'll be more gentle.
"No need. I can handle it. I like it rough".
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Restaurant scene
After hearing what the Auntie had to say about Mut personality, Rak couldn't help but stare at the young man in front of him. He sensed nothing but goodwill, sincerity and respect, no matter how annoying he could be. The two then talk about Palm and what he had said about Mut being the island's treasure. Recalling the conversation they had had at the bar, Rak starts biting his lip. Mut reaches out to gently caress his mouth with his thumb, asking Tongrak to stop biting.
"Not your business"
"Yes, it's none of my business. But when you bite your lips... I want to kiss you".
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Rak's dive
As we know, Rak is actually a certified diver. He got into deep diving thanks to Connor and they often dived together. He enjoyed it but didn't necessarily love it, as his hair and skin got easily damaged, so he eventually stopped. This dive, however, he craved. Rak had been around people for so long, he'd forgotten what tranquillity felt like. In the past, he liked being around people to mask his loneliness. He hated how miserable his large house made him feel, so he used to hang out with his friends as much as possible. Through writing tho, he found out there could be beauty to loneliness too and that he liked being alone, at least while he's working. This dive reminded him of this feeling, made him feel at peace, so he allowed his body to float in the sea. The feeling doesn't last long though, as the vastness and quietness of it all start to overwhelm him. Mahasamut arrives to lead him back to the surface. Contrary to the series however, Tongrak does not have a panic attack, nor does he recall painful memories of his family.
194 notes · View notes
Text
Guilty as Sin? — Chapter 6
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pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader
rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, professor/student dynamic, jealousy, brief glimpse of drunk Javi, phone sex but not really, oral (fem!rec), protected piv, dirty talk, little bit of angst thrown in at the beginning, sort of rough!javi? but nothing too crazy
word count: 4.8k
series masterlist
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A month went by, summer fading into early fall and bringing a slight chill to the air with it. Things between you and Javier were only slightly awkward, and only when you were alone together. In class, he treated you like a prized pupil but nothing more. In your TA lab, he spoke to you like a colleague. But to say either of you seemed content with the emotional and physical distance after the night you shared together would be a lie. 
You thought of him incessantly, his lips often becoming the focus of your mid-lecture daydreams. You liked to imagine that he stole glances at you too when you weren’t looking, but his gaze never seemed to linger long. He remained respectful, but there was no denying the lingering tension between the two of you. 
Even so, there was nothing that could be done for the secret longing you felt every time he walked into a room. You’d come to peace with that fact. Mostly. 
It was hard not to think of him as you got ready for a date that was set up by your new friend, the one you’d taken to sitting by in Javier’s lectures, Mayte. She’d been so eager to pull you out of the funk your “situationship” left you in, though you managed to leave out just who that situationship was in. The guy—Kade—she set you up with was a friend of her older brother, who she assured you had good taste in friends. That had yet to be seen. 
He’d invited you to the UT vs Texas A&M football game—not your usual scene but a fun chance to get out of the house. You wore a simple pair of jeans and a new sweater you’d recently bought to help boost your confidence. Casual, but put together at the very least. 
You insisted on arriving separately, wanting a quick escape plan if shit went sour—which it usually did. Meeting him in front of the ticket office of the stadium, you were surprised to find out he was handsome. Tall, with dark brown skin, and even darker eyes. He looked to be in shape underneath his long-sleeved University of Texas t-shirt and joggers. Perhaps maybe too in shape. 
“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile, pulling you in for an awkward side hug. 
“Hey,” you replied, nervously fidgeting as he led you up to the security check in. 
“You’re prettier than the pictures Mayte showed me,” he offered, glancing at you from over his shoulder as he waited for the guard to scan the tickets on his phone. You gave him a forced chuckle. After all, you weren’t sure if that was supposed to be a compliment. 
After making it through security, he led you over to the concessions counter and the long line in front of it. 
“You’re tall,” you observed, hating the way charm seemed to evade you when speaking to men. Except for Javier, that is. 
“Yep,” he chuckled. “So…do you come to games a lot?”
“No,” you playfully scoffed. “Football isn’t really my thing.”
“Oh,” he muttered, turning to face the menu. 
A damn near intolerable silence fell over the two of you for a while, both of you quietly shuffling ahead each time someone moved out of the line. When it was time to order and the cashier asked if it would be together or separate, things got even more awkward as you replied in unison. 
“Together, please.”
“Separate’s fine.”
The conflicting responses had the cashier raising an eyebrow. 
“I’m actually fine, so…go ahead,” you said, gesturing for him to order. He gave you a look of irritation before sighing and walking off without explanation. 
You looked at the cashier for help processing what just happened, but she looked just as confused as she shrugged as asked, “First date?”
“Last date, too,” you chuckled, choosing to find the humor in the situation rather than letting it chip away at you. 
You found the exit of the stadium, shaking your head as you swung the glass door open only to hit—
“Javi,” you breathed. There he was in all his casual glory. A simple t-shirt and jeans that threatened to make you fall to your knees. 
“Hey,” he managed, his voice breathy as he took you in. For the first time in the last month, you actually felt something from him. Longing, perhaps. Regret, more realistically. You were about to comment on his presence at such a big event, Javier not exactly seeming like the type to show up to a college football game, but were cut off by an appearance on his left. 
There, slipping her hand around his arm, was a bright eyed blonde that looked to be in her early thirties. 
“Excuse us,” she said, pushing past you and dragging Javier along with her. You watched with a look of horror as he gave you a lingering glance from over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. 
You felt sick—not the kind of sick that makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry. No, actually and truly sick. You forced your feet to carry you out of this godforsaken stadium, the fresh air helping to settle your stomach a bit as vomit threatened to creep its way up your throat. Funny how your heart had such control over your body, taking its frustrations out on your poor stomach. You mentally blacked out between the stadium entrance and arriving at your car, only remembering the fit you threw once you were safely in the confines of it.  
Sure, one could argue that you, yourself, had just been on a date with a very handsome man, and that Javier had every right to date around as well. But that would be a logical way to deal with these feelings of betrayal, and when it came to Javier, logic never won. 
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You attempted to drown out thoughts of how Javier’s date was progressing as the evening faded into night, busying your mind with studying for the bar exam. You stayed up late, sleep evading you no matter how tired your eyes grew. It seemed every time you closed your eyes you saw his face, that look of helplessness in his eyes. 
You wanted to smooth the worry lines on his forehead away with soft kisses, wanted to shove that pretty blonde off of him and claim him as yours. Jealousy, it seemed, had turned you primal. 
As you settled into bed, this time vowing you’d actually manage to go to sleep, your phone started to buzz on your nightstand. You scowled at the bright light, reaching over and accepting the call without thinking. 
“Hello?” you demanded. 
“Hey.” Javier’s voice both soothed and wounded you at the same time. “Shit. I didn’t—I thought I’d get your voicemail.”
“Javi?” you asked, as if you couldn’t pick his voice out in a crowd of a thousand. “What—it’s like…shit. It’s three in the fucking morning. Why are you calling me?”
“I know,” he sighed, his words slurred. “I just…couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 
You scoffed, rolling onto your back to stare at the ceiling. “Figured your date would’ve kept you distracted.”
“There’s that jealousy I love so much,” he crooned, and you could practically see him smirking. “She was a mistake. I just…I don’t fucking know. Needed to try to get you out of my system.”
“And did it work?” you asked, your tone still clipped. “Did fucking her make you forget about me for a while?”
“I didn’t fuck her,” he promised. “Didn’t even make it through the game. Well, actually that’s not true. I caught the end of it at a bar, then proceeded to get piss drunk because I couldn’t stop thinking about this girl you might know. Clever, brilliant, has the prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen—“
Definitely still piss drunk, then. 
“Javi,” you groaned, covering your face with your palm. “You’re being…cruel.”
“No, I’m not,” he argued. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Having to see you day in and day out, not getting to talk to you, not trusting myself alone with you. Now that’s fucking cruel.”
“So what?” you snapped. “You called me up just to tell me how much you want me but can’t have me?”
“I called you up to tell you I don’t give a fuck if I can’t have you,” he said, his voice so deep and warm it made your thighs squeeze together. “I fucking need you, cariño.”
“Yeah?” you asked, hating—and loving—the ease in which he coaxed you back into this mess of a situation. You bit your lip as you slipped your free hand down your stomach to the waistband on your bottoms. “Tell me how bad you need me, Javi.”
He groaned into the line, the sound of his zipper coming undone urging you to slip your hand further into your bottoms, your fingers finding you soaked with need. 
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Need you so bad. That pretty pussy, the taste of you on my tongue.” 
You let out a soft moan at the memory of Javier between your thighs, the scent of him on his bedsheets surrounding you. “Next time, I’m gonna give you my dick. See just how much of it you can take. How’s that sound? Bet you’ll take it all, won’t you, baby?”
“Shit, Javi,” you whined, swirling your fingers around your swollen bud. “Your voice…”
“Yeah? You like touching yourself listening to my voice, cariño?” he husked, a teasing lilt to his voice that made you throb with arousal. “
“Mmhm,” you moaned, slipping two fingers inside of yourself. 
“Good,” he said. “I’m fucking my hand to the sound of yours, too.” 
“Let me come over,” you begged. Your hand didn’t feel good enough, not like his did. “Please?”
“It’s late,” he cautioned.  
“I don’t care.” It was Friday night, after all. There was an entire weekend ahead of you to catch up on sleep. 
“I’m too drunk,” he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself rather than you. “Tomorrow night.”
You deflated a bit, slipping your hand out of your bottoms. 
“Doesn’t feel good when you’re not here,” you admitted with a pout. “You not only ruined me for all men but also for myself, apparently.” 
Javier laughed, the sound bringing a smile to your face. “God, I’ve missed you.” 
“I missed you, too,” you whispered, bashful and girlish. The exact kind of tone you used to tease your friends for using with their significant other. Funny how the tables have turned. 
“What were you doing at the game earlier?” he asked, thankfully picking up on the fact that your body had no interest in feeling good unless it was with him. “Didn’t take you for a football fan.”
“I’m not,” you chuckled. “Just had a…date. If you could call it that.”
“A date, huh?” You grinned at the way his tone seemed to shift. “And how did that go?” 
“He told me I looked prettier than I did in my pictures, asked for a separate bill at the concession stand, and then walked off when I told him I didn’t want anything,” you explained. “Pretty tame compared to some of my dating horror stories. Actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever been on a good date in my life. Not even with my ex.”
“How about we fix that tomorrow?” he said, his voice a casual drawl. You bit your lip to try and tame your smile. 
A date with Javier. Not a hookup, not a one-time thing to relieve some tension. A date. 
“I’d like that,” you said. “Where you gonna take me?”
“That’s a good question,” he chuckled. “Anything I should steer clear of?”
You weren’t sure you’d ever been asked that before a date. Typically, if they even bothered to make a plan, it was just going out for food at a restaurant they loved, going to see a game that you had no interest in, or worse, a male-led action film. 
“I’d probably steer clear of places where men congregate in crowds,” you chuckled. “And places that are loud. Besides that, I’m pretty flexible.”
“I hope to find out just how flexible you are, cariño,” he crooned. before chuckling at himself. Drunk Javier certainly was a lot more generous with his flirtation, and you made a mental note to get him drunk again sometime just to hear that filthy mouth run freely. “No men in flocks and no loud rooms, I can work with that.”
After setting a loose plan for tomorrow night—Javier picking you up at six and whisking you off to a surprise location you still had yet to figure out—you ended the call with a shit-eating grin on your face. Sleep evaded you again for an entirely new reason. 
Excitement. 
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Javier arrived at your place with five minutes to spare, his melodic knocks causing you to jolt as you reapplied your favorite lip balm—if tonight went the way you hoped it would, lipstick would only cause a mess. You hurried to the door, swinging it open with a grin. 
“Hey,” he breathed, a boyish smile creeping up on his face as took you in from head to toe. 
You still had no idea what he had planned, but he gave you a few things to work off of: casual clothes, a hoodie in case it got cold, and an overnight bag. 
Your eyes fell to the bouquet of red carnations in his left hand, your brow raising at the gesture you’d only ever seen in movies. “Never had someone give me flowers before.”
“God, I hate your exes,” he sighed, shaking his head as he held the flowers out for you to take. “First of many, I hope.”
Your mouth twisted as your grin bordered the line of full on goofy. You lifted the bouquet up to your nose, breathing in the fresh scent. “This is very sweet of you, Dr. Peña.”
“Oh?” he chuckled. “Back to Dr. Peña now, huh?”
“Mmhm,” you smirked. “Maybe if you impress me tonight I’ll call you professor.” 
“Jesus,” he groaned, invading your space. He settled one hand on your hip, the other cupping your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you like a starved man. You grinned into the kiss, pushing at his chest to coax him away. 
“Bold for a first date,” you noted, relishing in the dimpled, lust drunk smile he gave you. 
“You’re right,” he said, stepping back only to have you pull him in tighter, your lips finding his again. Javier hummed softly into the kiss, his thumb stroking over your cheek. He gave you one last peck, something so soft and tender that there was no confusing it for anything but sheer affection. “We should get on the road, though.”
“The road?” you asked, your brow raised. “You whisking me off somewhere?”
“Mmhm,” he hummed, tugging you tighter to his chest. “Figured we could take a little trip to the lake. Wouldn’t have to worry about anybody seeing us.” 
You weren’t sure why all the sneaking around was so thrilling to you. Surely, it would grow old eventually, but today certainly wasn’t that day. “In that case, I should probably bring my laptop.”
“I’ll just give you an A,” he said, stopping you from walking back into your apartment by giving you another dizzying kiss. 
“You’re not my only professor,” you reminded him with a smirk, relishing in the near-possessive squeeze he gave your hips before letting you go. He waited in the doorway, watching you dart around your tiny space collecting the last of what needed to be packed. “You’re allowed to come inside, you know?”
Javier chuckled, “Good to know.”
“Not like that,” you snorted. “Although…”
“See, that’s exactly why I can’t come in,” he said. “I might just say to hell with our reservation and hole up in here with you all weekend.”
“The walls here are too thin for that,” you joked, stuffing your laptop and notebook into your bag. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, Javier finally came inside to help you with your overnight bag. 
“Come on,” he coaxed, nudging his head toward the door. “Thicker walls await.”
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The ride from Austin to the small lakeside town of Horseshoe Bay was a little over an hour, that time spent in conversation with the university’s most unsocial professor. But he wasn’t that crabby, brooding professor with you. No, Javier was an entirely different man. You’d begun to piece together a more concrete idea of the man you’d become fascinated with almost instantaneously, rounding out his sharp edges with bits of his past. 
He’d told you about his family, or at least what remained of it. He was an only child, his father a rancher in Laredo that he only sees on holidays due to the distance between them. His mother had passed years ago, you learned, right after Javier had graduated from high school. 
You listened intently as he fed you bits of his childhood, painting the scene in bright yellows and an achingly palpable nostalgia. He claimed he was a quiet child, not fully coming into his own until college. 
At this you felt a tug of familiarity. You’d never been popular, not until college rolled around and offered you a fresh start. 
In exchange for his past, you told him about your own—your parents, the world you came from, the sort of girl you were as a child and how she never really left you, even now. He rested his hand on your knee as he listened to you, glancing at you every now and again with that look of sheer interest that made it difficult to remember what you’d been saying. 
It was all so deliciously vulnerable and intimate, the giving of one’s past to a soul who never had the chance to experience it with you. Javier didn’t seem the type to open up unless he felt it absolutely necessary, which only added to the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. He felt you were necessary, that you were deserving of receiving him in the past, present, and if you’d be so bold to guess, future. 
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By the time you arrived at the hotel he’d booked, it was half past seven. The stars had come out, stealing the spotlight away from the red autumn sunset over the resort. You stood beside him as he checked the two of you into your suite, your stomach flipping with anticipation over what was to come. 
This was no one-night stand or temporary fix to the issue at hand. No, this trip marked the first time you’d sleep in his bed, the first time you’d share dinner with him, the first time you’d get to feel him, the first time that you’d get an unfiltered glimpse at the man you’d fallen for without ever truly knowing. A small part of you trembled because of that fact, that this entire fantasy could come crumbling down overnight, but despite all of your concerns, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to truly consider the possibility. 
Truthfully, if he hadn’t irked you yet—a woman who’s admittedly very easily irked by men—then it wasn’t likely he’d begin to now. Beyond that logic, there was a different part of your psyche—the part that believed in true love despite the scars earned in attempt to attain it—that felt safe in his hands. Perhaps it was the way he’d handled the situation with Derrick, or maybe it was the amount of willpower he displayed the night he asked you to come over. Either way, Javier had firmly established himself as a good man in your eyes. 
A good man that was capable of conjuring the filthiest of fantasies inside your head. 
The tension between you only seemed to tighten as you made your way up to the suite. You walked behind him, admiring the broadness of his shoulders that tapered into a slim waist, his strong hands carrying an overnight bag in each. You had half a mind to shove those bags to the floor so that his hands could hold you instead, but managed to find the patience necessary to make it into the room. 
“The key’s in my front pocket,” he said, turning to face you as you reached your suite. You licked your bottom lip as you reached out to slip the card from his pocket before deciding on something a bit more sinful. Sliding your hand across denim, you bypassed his pocket in favor of palming him through his jeans. Javier raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes falling to your hand as you gave him a squeeze. “That’s not my pocket.”
“Oh, is it not?” you asked, feigning innocence. “I must’ve gotten lost.”
Javier hissed as you stroked him through his jeans, his now hard length straining against the confines of the rigid denim. “If you don’t hurry up and—“
You slid your hand away, slipping the keycard out of his pocket with a smirk. “So impatient.”
“I’m the impatient one?” he asked through a chuckle, opening the door of the suite and guiding you inside. “I’m not the one who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”
You stood in front of the massive king-sized mattress you’d be sharing with your professor. Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but imagine the things that might occur later on between you in those crisp white sheets. Javier seemed to follow your train of thought as he came to stand behind you, his fingertips trailing down your arm until he was weaving your hands together. You pressed back into him, exposing more of your neck. Javier leaned in, his lips soft and warm against your pulse as he pressed a featherlight kiss there. 
“I made dinner reservations,” he mumbled, tracing the line of your jaw with the bridge of his aquiline nose. You let out a soft gasp as he nipped at your jaw while bringing your entwined hands between your bodies. He guided your hand to the bulge in his jeans and pressed himself closer, a sinful sigh slipping from his lips. “We should get going.”
He made no move to do such a thing, instead choosing to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. You moaned into it, cupping his face with both hands as he gently laid you on the mattress. He stood up straight and watched you with a drunk look in his eyes as he peeled off his sweater, throwing it across the room. “Had to change anyways.”
You followed his lead, stripping off your top layer in a scramble before moving to do the same with the skirt and tights you’d worn with the hope of taunting him, but he stopped you. Instead, he unbuckled his belt and set it beside you on the bed with a sinful gleam in his eyes.
“Skirt on?” you asked, giving him a smirk. Javier popped the button of his jeans undone and unzipped himself, shucking his jeans down just enough to free himself. 
“Mmhm,” he hummed, stroking himself a couple times before lowering to his knees and tugging you to the edge. 
“And the tights?”
He smirked as he pressed a kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Depends on how much you care about those tights.”
“Not at all,” you purred, combing your fingers through his hair. Javier gave your flesh a tender bite--a signature of his, you were learning. Spreading your thighs wider to accommodate his broad shoulders, Javier ripped the tights in half where your thighs met to expose you to him. 
You’d forgone underwear for this specific reaction--Javi’s dark eyes flaring with desire, that skilled tongue of his swiping across his bottom lip, his hands gripping the meat of your thighs so hard you hoped it would leave a mark. 
“Fuck me,” he groaned, wasting no time as he leaned in and tasted you like it was the first time. Just like before, your mind was sent reeling, trying to comprehend how something--or someone--could possibly make you feel this good. He tasted you with unabashed eagerness, clearly using his free hand to stroke himself as he drank you down. “You wanna come like this, baby? Or do you want my cock?”
You moaned at the question, feeling yourself empty and fluttering around nothing. 
“I want your cock,” you managed, albeit a bit more bashful than his delivery. 
Javier placed a far too sweet kiss on your swollen bud before standing again, the sight of him and his dominance and his tenderness all driving you mad in different ways. You wanted this man, wanted to have him and keep him all to yourself, wanted to know him and be known by him in a way that no one else ever had. If this was to be your end, those strong hands and kind eyes, then at least it would be a happy one. 
He stroked himself with one hand while he walked over to his bag and located a condom. Tearing the foil open with his teeth—a sight you’d never imagined could be so fucking arousing—he returned to you, rolling the condom down his length. 
“You’re so…beautiful, Javi,” you breathed, watching him as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused there, bending forward to kiss you with such tenderness, such affection that you nearly forgot where you were and what you were doing. He took those few seconds of dazed bliss to press into you, just enough to acclimate you to his size. He swallowed down your gasp, giving you another inch before stilling again. 
When he was finally fully seated inside your warmth, you let your head fall back against the mattress, a choked moan filling the room as he ground himself deep, his lips finding your pebbled nipples. “Fuck, Javi.” 
“Is it good, cariño?” he asked, his voice taking on a rougher edge. 
It wasn’t just good, it was…perfect. The way he felt, the feelings he stirred within you, the look in his eyes when he lifted his head from your chest to watch your eyes roll as he withdrew himself only to press back in. Absolutely, devastatingly perfect.  
“So good,” you moaned instead, holding his face in your hands as he picked up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 
“Shit,” he hissed, dropping his head to watch himself disappear inside of you. 
You balled up your skirt to sit around your waist, determined to let him get the perfect view as your eyes squeezed shut, the sparks of pleasure from each thrust making it hard to see straight. 
“Feelssofuckinggood, baby,” he slurred in a moan, sounding almost as drunk as he did on the phone the night before. “Such a perfect fucking pussy.”
You keened at his praise, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. Javier groaned, pinning your knees toward your chest as he stood upright and began to fuck you without inhibition. All you could do was cry his name and lose yourself in the clouds of euphoria as his hips snapped into yours hard enough to carve his name into them. 
“Fuck,” he hissed, hugging your thighs to his chest and guiding your ankles to rest on his shoulder. “You’re gonna make me come, baby. That what you want? Hm?”
“Fuck, yes,” you whined, feeling the knot in your belly tighten at his voice. 
“You gotta come first,” he panted, licking his thumb before bringing it down to your swollen and throbbing bud. Your walls clamped down on him, earning a growl as he picked up his pace. “C’mon, baby. C’mon.”
“Javi, shit—“ Your vision went white before you could even get the words out, your walls fluttering around his cock as you came harder than you ever had before. Javier let out a strangled moan, leaning down to kiss your lips as he sought his own release. “Good fucking girl.”
You clung to him for dear life, fearing that if you let go, you’d float off into oblivion and never return. Javier hissed, soft moans filling the room along with the sharp slap of skin as he pumped himself into you once, twice, three times before pressing himself as deep as he could go. He laid his head on your chest as he came, whispering filth in Spanish that had you ready for another round.  
“Fuck,” you sighed, content and satiated for now. A laugh slipped past your lips before you could contain it, causing Javier to lift his head off your chest, a lazy, and yet almost smug, smile on his face. 
“What?” he chuckled. 
“We’re fucked,” you said, laughing again, this time joined by Javier. 
“Completely and utterly fucked,” he agreed. 
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309 notes · View notes
genericpuff · 3 months
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Are there any things you like about LO? Or is it all shit to you. Personally, I think it could be a great storyline with the right execution, but a lot of the stuff and plot is unnecessary (I.e. Hades being thousands of years older than Kore and making characters fall in love with people they are racist/classist towards 😨😨)
Oh there are LOADS of things that I liked and still enjoy about LO despite all the shit I've thrown at it. I love love LOVE a lot of the older art-
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Like, damn, that shit is so charming! I swear I had that Tower 4 panel as my phone background for like, 2 years LOL
Rachel had a really strong understanding of shape language, composition, color theory, and expressive linework in a way that was really appealing and unique at the time, but along the way it was just lost, undoubtedly due to her taking more of a backseat in the character art process and leaving it to her assistants.
That said, there's a lot of... not so charming, too.
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I think, on the one hand, there's a lot to appreciate in the old art that shouldn't be rejected as we criticize this series. At the end of the day, as much as we riff on it, many of us did love this series at one point in time, so we shouldn't cringe at what it used to make us feel or pretend like we were ever above it when we were very much lost in it for ages before it went down the tubes.
But there is a lot to be said about the effects of rose-colored glasses, and how LO was never perfect. The reality is that much of Rachel's work is exemplified by the odd beautiful thing that sticks in our memories, but when we actually go back to relive those memories, we find they're all strung together by some not so beautiful stuff that makes us go 'wait what???'
Case in point, with LO we remember beautiful compositions like this:
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But then within those same episodes we get:
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And it's like oh. Yikes.
Aside from the art, there was also the SA plot as well as the Act of Wrath. The SA plot felt really special to me at the time because I was someone who was once in Persephone's shoes, being pressured into sex that I wasn't ready for but wasn't capable of saying no to. I can appreciate what Rachel was trying to do with that plot, but over time it became clear that she wasn't committed to seeing that plotline through and so I kind of just dropped my expectations for it entirely.
That said, it wasn't the SA plotline that set me off. I had good faith in that one still that it would be addressed eventually. It was the Act of Wrath plotline that did me in. The premise of it was totally my cup of tea in the way of "quirky character has a dark evil backstory!" which is shit that I absolutely LOVE, but then when the "twist" happened that Eris was the one to give her wrath, that was literally when I had my almost "canon event" moment of realizing "wait... I don't think Rachel knows what she's doing." And then it was just all downhill from there. The S2 finale sealed my fate LOL
All that said, as much as my brain is often defaulting to "ew! gross! bad!!!" in all honesty I do still appreciate what LO meant to be back when I still enjoyed it. It meant enough to me that I just couldn't let it the fuck go when it started to go downhill, so much so that I started making my own version of it! And that's something that sets it apart so much more from other comics I really don't like anymore (or comics I never liked to begin with) like Down to Earth, The Kiss Bet, Let's Play, etc. where I really can't even be bothered to think about them let alone talk about them to the extent I do about LO. I may be full of beans when it comes to LO, but I'd still rather be talking about it and all its failings and what it used to mean to me than about any of those other works. I loved it enough to still want it in my life and that's what Rekindled has accomplished for me.
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thebestofoneshots · 7 months
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.9 K Warnings: None Prompt: Slug Party goes awry... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp
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Chapter 36: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy
December, 21st, 1976
Remus wasn’t sure what he should wear to the party. He had sent a letter to his parents telling them about the invitation. He had omitted it had been you who invited him rather than Slughorn, and his father seemed pretty thrilled about his son being a member of the Slug club. 
Lyall wasn’t the kind of parent to be strict with his child’s grades, not in a literal sense at least, regardless he would very often tell Remus how important it was that he was among the best, and that being able to study magic at Hogwarts had been a privilege to him. That it only happened because of how lucky he’d gotten, and that he should be thankful to Dumbledore for giving him the opportunity and that the best way of proving his gratitude would be to be exceptionally good at his studies. 
Especially because, when he eventually joined the Registry of Magical Creatures, the only thing he’d have to prove his worth as a wizard would be his academic achievements. If Remus did badly in his studies, his father wouldn’t be angry, rather he’d be disappointed, and Remus hated disappointing people. So while there wasn’t actually a pressure put on his shoulder by his father, there was a pressure set by himself, one to make sure he’d keep his father content and proud. 
In the end, his father had only cornered Remus into pressuring himself. Of course, Lyall didn’t know this, nor did Hope, they thought their child was perfect just because he was, while Remus sometimes felt the need to put an extra effort to fulfil their expectations. Everyone’s expectations. Sometimes he wished he could be more like Sirius, careless and loud but he couldn’t give himself such a luxury, perhaps that’s why he was so attracted to him.
At least it wasn’t that hard, Remus was already clever and being friends with the other Marauders and Lily had helped him to strengthen his abilities from the very beginning, making him a better wizard than he ever would have been without them. And recently, you as well, you were making him a better wizard too, even if he always felt awfully selfish for wanting you, and your godric-damned gorgeous boyfriend.
Remus was still rummaging through his trunk trying to find something nice. His father had told him that he had to wear something elegant, preferably his suit, but Remus had no idea where the hell he had placed it. Hope, on the other hand, had written to tell him that he should pay his father no mind and that those silly elitist wizard parties –which she had concluded was what they were (accurately) after Lyall told her about them– shouldn’t be worrying him too much. She did ask him who he’d be inviting, and he had responded he’d be going with you. 
Lyall and Hope already knew about you, they knew you had arrived at school and Remus had mentioned that you had become close. Hope had mentioned at some point that he should ask you on a date, but Remus responded to her letter by telling her you were going out with Sirius, which Hope didn’t seem to understand. Especially when some of the things Remus had described in his letters were the kinds of things a girl who was very much in love with her son would do. Of course, Hope knew nothing more than the few things that Remus had said in his letters, about how kind you were, how funny you were, and how you were an incredibly talented witch. And yet, somehow she clearly knew better than all of you combined. 
Now, Hope knew how close Remus was to Sirius and she was not about to tell him to pursue you, but she definitely expected to have a small chat with him once they met again in New Year. Remus had chosen to stay at Hogwarts during Christmas, to recover after the moon. She wasn’t too happy about that, she’d much prefer having her son with her during the moon, but Lyall insisted that Remus wasn’t the small wolf she had taken care of in the past, though still incredibly dangerous, the wolf had been a lot easier to control. 
Besides, Remus much preferred staying at Hogwarts now, the Shrieking Shack, even if still a cage, was much bigger than the small silver-coated cage they had at home, which while absolutely safe, was also incredibly painful for Moony, and caused much more desperate clawing from the wolf which in turn, left Remus a lot worse off. 
“What’s with the sour face?” James asked when he spotted Remus kneeling on the floor looking defeated. 
The boy huffed in response, “I can’t find the fucking suit.” 
“You’re going with a suit?” 
“You’re not?!” 
“Should I?” 
“Of course! It’s a Christmas Party, James!” 
“You think Lily will wear an elegant dress?” He asked, “Oh I should ask what colour it is so I can match with her.” 
Remus almost rolled his eyes as he leaned down and started looking through his trunk again, “Vixen might not be here, but even I can tell you how much of a terrible idea that is…” 
“It’s a grand gesture, mate! You don’t understand romance.” 
“I’ve had more dates than you ever have,” Remus defended. 
“And yet… you’ve never had a girlfriend. Because you don’t do grand gestures.” 
Remus huffed again, sure next time he’ll match Sirius’s fucking outfit and hope he does not get punched in the face. He wasn’t sure if Sirius or you would be the one to throw fists first thought. He kept moving things around on his trunk before sitting back with an annoyed sigh. “No fucking suit.” 
“I can lend you something,” James said with a shrug and pulled out a dark blue pair of pants, waistcoat and matching long gown. “Just find a shirt and tie that matches,” the boy said with a shrug. 
“You think these will fit?” Remus asked as he gave them a weary look. 
“You can charm them to fit better if you want,” James said with a shrug. Remus kept looking at them wearily but nodded and placed them on his bed. 
Sirius, who had been off somewhere, appeared shortly after Remus stepped out of the showers, and James got in.
“You ready?” he asked, even if he could clearly see Remus still had a towel slung across his waist. 
“Yeah, I was planning to go like this and moon everyone when it was time to dance,” Remus replied sarcastically, he was a little touchy. Probably because of how close the moon was and because of how much time he had wasted trying to find something to wear. 
“Ugh Pissy Moony,” Sirus said with a grimace as he sat on Remus’ bed and took a look at James’ suit. He easily figured James had borrowed it and felt a pang of jealousy over the fact that Remus would ask James for help instead of him. Or perhaps it was because Moony would wear James’ clothes instead of something from him. Then again, it was a dumb thing to be jealous about, Sirius’ tailored clothes wouldn’t fit Remus at all. Sirius was shorter and skinnier. Still, he wasn’t too happy about it, he realised as he passed his hand over the soft blue fabric. “What will you be wearing with this?”
Remus shrugged in response, “White shirt, some tie that matches I guess.” 
Sirius didn’t seem convinced, “I’ll find you something,” he said as he kneeled down next to the boy’s dresser and started looking through his drawers. 
“Sirius,” Remus called, but he was too focused on the dresser to realise. “Sirius!” He repeated, a little louder this time. 
Sirius just hummed in response, turning his head to look at the other boy as he leaned back a little, a casual thing Sirius would do rather often that made Remus gulp, he looked beautiful, as fucking always. Remus had been about to tell the boy that he should mind his own fucking business, but there was no way to tell him that now. 
“Just… pass me my briefs, will you?” 
Sirius, without even turning, pulled the top left drawer, grabbed a pair and threw it back to Remus “There you go,” he said simply and went back to looking through Remus’ stuff. Remus sighed and continued getting dressed, passing the briefs under the towel before taking it off. “What do you think Starshine will wear?” 
The other boy shrugged, “A dress or something I suppose, she knows a good deal of magic etiquette.” 
“Bet she’ll look hot.” 
Remus didn’t respond to that, it wasn’t like he could just agree with Sirius out loud, “She’ll dress nicely I assume.” 
“Oh, this is great!” Sirius said as he pulled out a dark navy shirt, just slightly lighter than the suit James had borrowed. 
“So dark?” Remus asked as he leaned over, he was already wearing the pants James had borrowed, they were a little tight but they fit him well, Sirius noticed. 
“Yeah! This shirt looks dashing on you mate! It’s the one you wore to the Christmas Party last year.” 
Remus did not remember that fact out of the bat, so he had to think back and try to remember exactly what he had worn that day at the Potters. They had sneaked out some alcohol from Monty’s collection –Monty knew, but pretended not to notice– and then they had all sneaked into James’ room and drank until they were too pissed to remember much of the rest of the night.
Sirius, on the other hand, remembered the exact outfit Remus had worn, first because he thought Remus looked incredible with that shirt and wondered why he didn't wear it more often, and second, because when Peter had dared Remus to take off his shirt, he had complied, and Sirius had found it at some point and used it as his pillow for the rest of the night. He thought it also smelled nice. 
“I guess you’re right,” Remus said with a small frown, still trying to remember the shirt as Sirius stood and placed it on the bed, passing his wand over it with a quick straightening spell to make it look as neat as he remembered it had looked on Remus. It was then that Sirius started thinking of the fact that, while he clearly remembered what Remus had worn perfectly, he couldn’t quite recall what either Peter or James had been wearing. 
“Done,” Sirius said once he placed his wand back in his pocket and gently passed the unbuttoned shirt to Remus, stepping back when he realised he was about to help him button it. 
“Thanks, mate,” Remus said and grabbed the shirt to put it on. Sirius sat back down on Remus’ bed as his friend finished getting his shirt on. And then passed him the waistcoat. Sirius realised, almost a little too late, that he was most definitely checking Remus out while he did. “Does it look bad?” 
“What? No, why?” Sirius said, a little caught off guard. 
“You’ve been staring?” 
Have I? Fuck I have. “Just thinking of what tie you can wear with it,” Sirius said, hoping it was convincing enough.
“Oh,” Remus replied simply as he pulled the coat on, while it was on the tighter side, it wasn’t uncomfortably so, and the colour did nicely suit him. He was about to ask Sirius if he thought you’d like it and realised what a terrible idea that was, so he just shut his mouth. “Which tie?” 
Sirius seemed to be taken aback by the question but then nodded and went to his trunk. He was sure to have some ties somewhere, he did not remember taking them out before the whole chaos at home and his trunk had ended up being delivered to the Potters along with a note that said that he was a bIood traitor and that he was no longer welcomed at home. It was a house though, that had never been his home. 
Sirius kept looking until he found a thick tie that shifted in colour as he took it from his trunk. First, it was blue, then it was brown, and then it was something between burgundy and purple. Remus raised one of his eyebrows “A magic tie?” 
Sirius shrugged, “It’ll match your outfit… or Starshine’s, sometimes she’s whimsical like that?” 
“Your girlfriend?” 
“The tie,” Sirius clarified. 
Remus groaned, “James is so gonna tease me about it,” he said as he placed his hand over his head. Sirius approached him and slid the tie across his friend’s neck, carefully raising the collar and letting his fingers brush over Remus’ neck only for a second before going back to his thing. He tried not to think of the shiver he felt from how warm Remus was. Had touching him always felt like that? “I know how to tie a tie,” Remus said as he observed Sirius. The shorter boy was deeply focused on his task. 
“Yeah, but you don’t have a clue how to do an Eldredge Knot, do you?” 
Remus scoffed, while he had no idea what an Eldredge Knot looked like, let alone how to do it, he was also a little offended that Sirius would just assume he didn’t.  “Well maybe I do,” he said as he grabbed onto the tie, his hands over Sirius’ as he tried to shake him away, but the boy didn’t budge. The way Remus’ hands wrapped around his made him think of yours, and then compare, his were larger, they felt nice around his own. 
But Sirius was really trying not to focus on said things. “Come on Moons, let me help,” he said simply, looking up at Remus’ eyes. He could see Sirius’ thick black lashes and he fought hard not to gulp from how close they were. 
“Whatever,” Remus said as he took his hands from Sirius and let them fall on his side, placing them on his pockets right after since he had no idea what to do with them. Sirius continued his task, while Remus tried to look anywhere but at him, at his slightly furrowed brows, and his cute little mouth with his lips pressed in a thin line as he breathed slowly. Why did he have to go and be so ridiculously pretty? Remus wondered as he gave him a short glance and then looked away again. Sirius was taking a hell of a lot of time with his damned tie. “You done?” 
“Chist,” Sirius shushed him as he continued trying to focus, it was way easier when you did it to yourself than when you did it backwards. Remus started to slowly tap his foot, yet another way to distract him from how close Sirius stood. Close enough to feel his warm breath fan against his neck. 
“Hey Sirius…” The other boy hummed in response. “Thanks…”  
“’S what friends are for,” Sirius said simply, hands tightening the knot as he pulled back just a little to look at Moony. His gaze quickly forgetting the tie and focusing on his friend’s face. On his chocolaty brown eyes that looked a lot more golden today than normal. The moon was close, after all. Regardless, it was a good look on Remus. Sirius smiled, “You look handsome,” he said honestly, it rolled so naturally off his tongue, he was almost surprised he hadn’t said it to Remus more often. 
A blush started to creep up Remus’ neck when the door of their room opened, his head snapped to it and you stood there, looking at the two boys with a small smile. The two of them looking back at you. You had your hair down and wore a white, iridescent dress with lace on top, a turtle neck and a long-sleeved top that flared down at the bottom into a puffy skirt and fell down just before your ankles. You had a matching pair of shoes. The lace was delicate and had a star on the left shoulder and some other wind and sky motifs all around.
You looked like… the moon. Except Remus had never thought of the moon as pretty before. 
Sirius looked at you with a smile “Claire de Lune,” Sirius said affectionately. Remus didn’t even feel jealous at the way the other boy was looking at you, in fact, he was rather thankful Sirius was so focused on you and wasn’t paying attention to him or the way he was looking at you. 
You smiled at Sirius praising, “Thought I was Starshine,” you teased with a smile, twirling around and letting the dress flow, the iridescence being a lot more evident. “Comet helped me charm it,” you explained, “kind of like her dress at the Halloween party.” 
Remus’ tie had already become the same shade of iridescent white. “You look delightful, I’m almost jealous it’ll be Moony the one to parade you around instead of me,” Sirius said as he walked closer to you, placing his hand on yours and twirling you around once more. You laughed but let him have his fun, especially since he wasn’t going to go to the party. Remus stared at the two of you dancing around to no music and smiled, James came out of the bathroom all dressed up shortly after. 
“Looking great Moony,” he said when he spotted Remus, “you too Vix.” 
“Thanks,” you said while Sirius stopped the dancing to look at James reproachfully. 
“Way to leave your handsomest friend out.” 
“You’re not dressed up,” James said simply, “You look exactly the same as every day… maybe a little scruffy,” James added with a smirk, he knew he’d piss Sirius off. “Hair’s a little messy,” he added as he pointed at his head. 
Sirius gasped and was about to respond when you took his face in your hands and dragged him to look at you, pulling one stray hair and placing it back on its spot “Well, I think you look handsome.” 
“She’s lying to make you feel better,” James insisted. 
“I’ll get Lily to hex you, James,” you warned, the messy-haired boy took a step back, as if genuinely scared of your friendly threat.
Sirius gave you a small satisfied smile before leaning in to steal a short kiss from your lips. 
“Ugh, get a room!” James complained. 
“Find a different place to change,” Sirius retorted as he leaned again to kiss you again, partly because he could never get enough of you, partly because your lips helped him forget the weird feeling he was getting whenever he was around Remus alone and partly to spite James. “Moony doesn’t mind, right Moons?” 
Remus really tried not to choke at that, “Not at all,” he managed to say. 
“See, it only is a you problem,” Sirius said with a shrug. “I won’t be telling you to get a room whenever you bring Lily over to snog.” 
“We’ve never snogged here though,” you clarified. Sirius gave James an exaggerated wink and you elbowed him when you realised. Remus couldn’t help but laugh at your dynamic. 
“Ready, Little Witch?” he asked politely. 
You turned to him with a smile, same smile you had when you were looking at Sirius, only now being less entertained by your boyfriend and noticing how handsome your friend looked. “When you are,” you said simply.  Remus walked closer to you and tilted his head, an invitation for you to follow behind him. 
“I want her back before 12,” Sirius joked pointing at Remus.
You laughed before Remus had the chance to say anything “Sure thing, and I want you to stay out of trouble for a whole week, but neither of us will get what we wish, will we?” 
“I could stay out of trouble for a week!” Sirius scoffed, slightly offended. 
You raised your eyebrows at that statement and eyed Remus. “Has he ever?” 
Remus shook his head , lips pressed tightly before he added, “Nope.” 
“Remus!” Sirius whined. 
“Just stating the facts,” Remus replied with a shrug, a diverted shine in his eyes as he stared at his beautiful best friend.  
“Ugh! Stop flirting, you’re all making me feel lonelier,” James said as he threw a pillow at the three of you. 
“Oi!” you said as you straightened your clothes. “You’ll ruin my dress…” you added with a frown. 
“Yeah James, stop messing with her. How would you feel if I go around throwing pillows at Evans,” Sirius defended. 
“She’d hex you,” James responded with a shrug. 
“Perhaps I should hex you,” you said under your breath while Remus laughed. “You’re lucky we’re friends.”
James threw a wink your way and you grumbled something about throwing him off his broom. Sirius took the fact that you were busy still straightening your clothes to pick a piece of pillow fluff that had fallen on Remus’ coat. The boy straightened slightly at the way Sirius closed the gap between the two of them. “What?” he asked, looking at Sirius almost warily, he didn’t want to admit the way his heart would race at Sirius so much as stepping into his personal space like that. 
The shorter boy just grabbed the fluff and showed it to Remus, moving his hand from side to side before blowing it away. You finally lifted your head, almost curiously looking at the way Remus was staring at Sirius, and then at the way Sirius was staring back. You tilted your head, it was oddly familiar, but you just couldn’t quite pinpoint why. You narrowed your eyes at the two, the connections in your brain happening at lightning speed only to be interrupted by an urgent knock on the door, everyone turned their heads towards it and then at each other as if wondering if they had invited anyone over. 
“James! We’re gonna be late,” Lily’s voice said from the other side of the door. You walked over and opened the door, letting her in. 
“Oh, hey luv, I’ve actually brought this over for you, thought it would go with your dress,” She said as she handed over the moon and star ring your mom had given you a while ago, Remus took a step back, looking at Lily almost offended. She was wearing a green dress that looked delightful with her hair, James pretty much gaped at her as she was putting on a pair of jade earrings that matched the dress, not even noticing the way he was staring.
“Shut your mouth mate, you’ll get lacewing flies,” Sirius teased. Lily, who had not noticed James staring turned almost as red as her hair as she turned to look at James and their eyes locked for a second. 
“I’ve seen you gape at Vixen way more times than I can count…” James started to complain.
You weren’t listening anymore, their bickering fading into the background when you took the ring from your palm and placed it on your finger, only then realising that Remus was looking to the side rather dejected, “You’re…” he fucking hated having to ask, “you’re not actually gonna wear that, right?” 
You turned to him slightly confused at first and then smiled, something akin to a smirk, and extended your hand towards him “Give me your hand.” Remus tilted his head to the side reproachfully, trying to tell you that of course he fucking couldn’t, even if he wanted to, without having to say “I’m a werewolf, I can’t” out loud. 
Even then you kept your hand up, “Trust me,” you added confidently. Remus seemed hesitant but did as told, tentatively placing his fingers over yours, avoiding touching the ring entirely. It was merely a brush of his fingers over your hand, and he was about ready to pull away when you pushed your hand forwards and yanked his, grabbing firmly onto it. He tried to pull back, wincing, as if ready to feel the stinging of the metal, eyes closed and a deep frown etched on his face. And then, it cleared, slowly as he eyed you, then both of your hands, his brows furrowing again, this time it was softer, his eyes were searching, turning both of your hands around as if to make sure it was the same ring. 
When he was sure it was, he dug his fingers closer to yours, feeling the ring from the back and then bringing in his other hand, brushing over your knuckles before letting them fall over the ring. “We transfigured it,” you said proudly. “I asked Lily and Pete to help me, since both Sirius and I had hurt you with it, I thought it was the right thing to do. Took us weeks to get it right.” 
“Weeks…” Remus repeated, still fascinated over the fact that he could touch the ring, or perhaps he was fascinated more by the way your small hand looked next to his. Of course, he had held your hand before, but it had always been in situations in which it was either dark, you were running, or you had something else to pay attention to, never had Remus actually seen it. So much smaller in comparison to his, so much softer and smoother. There was a bit of hardened skin near your thumb from how hard you gripped your quill sometimes and there were also fading broom marks in the top part of your palm, whatever potion Sirius had given you was erasing them quickly. 
You nodded, also paying attention to the way your hands looked next to each other. Sirius’ hands were large, perhaps as large as Remus’, but there was something about the way Remus held your hands, almost venerating, that made you just as curious as it seemed to make him, of course, you assumed he was just fascinated by the fact that he could touch the ring now. “It’s stainless steel,” you explained, “absolutely harmless, like the charm on the necklace Peter made,” you added with another prideful smile. 
He smiled almost shyly and felt silly at the fact that he had been worried before, of course, you’d never do anything that could hurt him (at least consciously), in fact, he now noticed that he hadn’t seen you wear the ring since that time at the infirmary when you had discovered he was a werewolf, he’d just assumed Sirius hadn’t given it back yet. 
“Oh, he’s seen the ring?” Sirius asked, only now finishing his bickering with James and leaning his chin on your shoulder as he stared at Remus’ hands holding yours, he thought it looked right. “I take it, it worked?” 
You nodded and hummed in reply, beaming proudly at your achievement, “He knew?” breaking his sight away from your hands and looking straight at Sirius. He looked unfairly adorable, the two of you did. Remus still didn’t remove his hands from yours, perhaps he was pushing it, but he didn’t care much if he was, he didn’t want to stop holding you. If Sirius could have his hands on your waist and his head perched on your shoulder, he could at least have your hand. He would be your date tonight either way. 
Only because Sirius didn’t want to go, a pesky little voice reminded him. 
But then again, Sirius would never pass up the opportunity to rub it on people’s faces that he was with you, let alone with the sight you were in that dress. Why was it he didn’t want to go again? He’d have to ask you later. 
“Sirius helped me swipe the metal transfiguration book from the restricted section,” you said with a smile, “he thought it was a brilliant idea when I told him about it, and that it could also help me practise transfiguration, it was the same Peter had used. Lily helped me confirm it wasn’t silver anymore with muggle science. Something about dension or something.”
“Density luv, we used Archimedes' principle,” she said before going back to her chat with James. 
“Muggle magic,” you said with a shrug, “Lily taught me the formulas to make the equations, but she always checked to make sure I was doing it correctly.” 
“So many muggle words in one sentence,” Sirius said as he shook his head and huffed. 
“You learned algebra and physics for this?” Remus asked, almost laughing as he pulled your hand up to show your ring. 
Sirius huffed, “Of course, Moony would know exactly what you were talking about.” 
“Mum taught me a lot of muggle stuff, they didn’t think I’d be allowed in Hogwarts,” Remus said, almost as a throw-off comment. “You bunch of purebloods would obviously have no idea what they are. Especially physics, since what we do here destroys most of their principles.” 
“Prove A, I changed the material of the ring,” you said with a smile. “Still, it was useful, we should be taught more muggle stuff…. Although, I do think that muggle ironsmith from your story could have used a good transfiguration spell.”
“You told her the story?” Remus asked with a frown, still holding your hand, though he was letting it hang a little more. 
“Of course, I told her the story! Last time I said eureka she was looking at me like I had just made up a word.” 
“Sounds like a spell,” Sirius said with a simple shrug and took his wand out, “do you think–” 
“NO!” Remus, Lily and you, all said at the same time. Remus had finally let go of your hand, raising both of his as a warning. 
Sirius seemed taken aback. “I tried it,” you explained, turning your face to him slightly. “Almost blew up our dorm.” The way his hair tickled your cheek felt oddly nice. 
“It’s Ancient Greek, it could mean anything,” Remus said with a shrug, “Not a great idea to infuse it with magic if you don’t know what you’re doing.” 
“You never told me about almost blowing up your room,” Sirius said with a raised eyebrow.
“We had it under control,” you responded with a shrug, “thought it’d be a funny story for another time.” 
“Pads, are you done hogging your girlfriend? We’ve got a party to attend to…” Prongs teased. 
“Go snog Lily and leave us alone,” Sirius said with a pout as he tightened his grip on your waist, fuck he looked adorable, the two of you did, Remus thought it really wasn’t fucking fair. 
“No one is snogging anyone here,” Lily said, almost scandalised. James pouted at her and she swatted him lightly. 
“Speak for yourself,” Sirius said as he pursed his lips your way in a rather exaggerated manner. You were laughing as you playfully tried to push him away. Remus sighed as he looked at the two, first wishing he was you, to be the one that Sirius tried to kiss, and then wishing he was Sirius, the one who had permission to hold you so tight and place kisses all over your face. 
Eventually, he tore his eyes from the two of you and eyed his watch, “We’ll be late. I may not know much about pure bIood and customs or whatever, but I’m sure being on time is important.” 
“Unless you’re fashionably late,” Sirius said, pressing one last kiss to your cheek and taking a step back, still keeping his hands on your shoulders. 
“There is no such thing,” you said, turning to Sirius. 
“Oh, there isn’t?” He asked with a smirk, almost innocently as he took a few steps back, “must have heard Walburga wrong when she was talking about it.” After he spoke, he allowed himself to fall on Remus’ bed again. It was the closest bed, but that wasn’t the reason. Sirius didn’t know why he would let himself lie on his friend’s bed instead of his, but sometimes it just felt warmer, and a lot more welcoming. Besides, it smelled rather nice.
Remus shook his head with a small smile, looking at Sirius diverted before turning his head back to you. You smiled at him and nodded towards the door, “Let’s get going.” 
As you walked to the door, Sirius raised his head a little to give you one last look “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He said as he pointed at Sirius. 
You laughed “There isn’t much you wouldn’t do.” 
Lily, James, Remus and you arrived at the party shortly after, you hadn’t rushed much, since really it wasn’t that late, and even if you were happy to attend the party, you did not want to be the first people to arrive. 
They had used a room of the castle that you weren’t sure you’d ever visited. There were curtains draped all over the place, making the room look like the luxurious tent of an Arabian prince and you peeked your head inside before crossing the door, Remus followed behind. Lily and James walked next to each other and one of the waiters who you identified as Johnny Ackley stopped them in their tracks.
“You must kiss,” he said looking at your friends as he extended a silver tray your way. You leaned in and hovered your hand over one of the treats as Lily looked at him puzzled. “You stepped under the mistletoe,” he said simply, “It’s tradition.” 
“What?” Lily asked, a little shocked.
You eyed Remus, a devilish smile drawing on your lips as you pulled your hand slightly back from the treats and looked at your friends, “Oh yes, very important wizarding tradition, isn’t it Rem?” 
Remus held back his amused look as best as he could and nodded, “Definitely,” he agreed. 
Lily looked at you with pleading eyes and you gave her a wink. You knew she had enjoyed kissing James, she had told you how she’d done it on their date and also how she had “almost snogged” James a few nights ago. Now you weren’t sure what exactly Lily meant by “almost”, but you knew she had kissed James several times. And you also knew James would probably love the opportunity to kiss her in front of everyone. Were you being a better friend to James than you were to Lily at that moment? Maybe, but that didn’t stop you from adding a simple, “I’m sorry Lils, it’s part of the party traditions.” 
She narrowed her eyes at you and you just nodded with the same devilish smile as earlier. She huffed, defeated by the three of you, and placed her hand on James’ shoulder, who seemed just slightly surprised she’d actually go through with it. James had never kissed Lily in public, in fact, he wasn’t even sure people knew they were going out, outside of your very close friend group. Still, he leaned down at Lily’s command. And he calls Sirius a lap dog, Remus thought with a smile. Seeing James finally happy with Lily was oddly satisfying, probably what he should feel when he saw Sirius with you, but just couldn’t.
Eventually, they both kissed, a small peck at first but James leaned closer and placed his hand on Lily’s waist, while she took his head in her hands. You gave Rem a rather impressed look, and grabbed onto one of the treats. “I wouldn’t take that one,” Ackley said, “gives bad breath.” 
You narrowed your eyes and hovered over your hand on top of a different one, he shook his head, as if he knew something of that one in particular that you didn’t. You hovered your hand to a different-looking one and he nodded. You smiled and winked at him as you grabbed it, “What does this one do?” you asked as you leaned closer to him.
“It’s one of three that don’t have prank potions, and it’s actually tasty.” 
“Oh, so you’re here only to cause trouble?” you asked with a smile.
“I’m always around to cause trouble,” he responded, gave you a courteous look, and went somewhere else. 
You noticed Remus lean over, as if he too wanted one of the treats, but Ackley had already left, so you leaned closer to him. “Want some?” you asked as you raised your hand. 
“Well- I…” 
You gently leaned your hand towards his mouth, “It’s good, no potions or tricks,” you said, “At least according to Johnny.” 
He raised a questioning eyebrow at that but opened his mouth either way. You were halfway feeding him when you heard someone clear their throat rather loudly from behind Lily and James. You gave Remus a look and the two of you turned to look that way, the little treat still in your hand. 
“Would you mind snogging at a different place?” You heard Severus say in his infuriatingly slow voice as he pretty much pushed his way past James, who stumbled forward into Lily. Severus scoffed, and you stared daggers his way. 
“Mind your own damn business and leave the young couple alone,” you said stepping in front of him, “there was mistletoe.”
He merely raised an eyebrow all toffee-nosed and snobbish, and then moved his gaze behind you, noticing Remus holding his stance just a couple of steps back “Oh, so you left the wayward boyfriend at home and brought in the dangerous one instead.” 
You clenched your teeth at that, not because he implied Remus was your boyfriend, which had definitely done something to the boy, but rather because he called him dangerous. “Snape, if you continue insulting my friends like that, you’ll learn who is actually dangerous between us,” you said as you took a few steps towards him. The slimy-headed boy was taller than you, even taller than Sirius, but you didn’t let that deter you. 
He held his stance “Is that a threat?” he asked as he coed his head. 
“It’s a fucking promise, Severus.” 
“I’m not scared of you.” 
“Well, you should be…” you added as you pulled back. 
“Go mind your own business, and leave us alone Snape,” Remus interceded in a rather conciliatory tone. 
“As if I wanted to hang out with mudbloods,” he looked at Lily, then nodded towards James and you, “BIood traitors and mixed-raced abominations,” he added the last bit looking straight at Moony. 
You missed the hurtful look in Lily’s eyes due to the shock after his first and second insult were used so casually, but it was the last bit that had your bIood boiling, instantly giving you the urge to hex him, hand itching to get to your wand, but you somehow managed to hold back and use your tongue instead of your magic to fight back; after all fae were known for their sharp as knife words. 
“The only thing that’s abominating here is your disgusting greasy hair, Severus. Do you even know what shampoo is?” He gave you a hateful look. And that’s when you threw the real jab– you scoffed with a despicable sneer and added, “To think you wanted Lily to like you back. Bet she wouldn’t go out with you even if you were the last person on earth.” 
Severus seemed to be taken aback by that, and Lily, who had been watching the whole scene with James after they managed to sort themselves out reacted, turning to you with a gasp, “(Y/N)!”. James tightened his grip on her shoulder reassuringly. 
“Am I lying?” you said simply as you turned to her. 
She gave you a pleading look, still trying to deal with the fact that Severus had called her a Mudblood again and the fact that her noble heart couldn’t quite let go of the friendship she had once shared with him, Lily didn’t want to hurt him either,  “I– well I…” 
You nodded, “There’s your answer,” you added turning your head back at Severus with a satisfied expression, he was looking at you coldly. “Go apparate somewhere where they actually want you.” And that last bit might have been overkill, “If such a place really exists.” 
“(Y/N)!” Lily said again. Severus took his wand out and pointed it at your face, completely riled up by your poisonous words. And she looked at him shocked “Severus!” she chided, trying to appease him.
You didn’t back up at all, and you didn’t motion to grab your wand either, just gave Severus the same look he’d given you earlier. Your head leaned back slightly, a daring look plastered all over your features. You heard Remus shift behind you, the boy was ready to push you out of the way if it was necessary. But then, something none of you would have ever expected happened. Evan Rosier walked over and placed his hand on Severus’ shoulder. 
You narrowed your eyes at him, but Rosier only pulled the other Slytherin and started to drag him away, “Come on Severus, Barty was looking for you,” he said as he took him away. 
You were about to respond to that when you felt Remus’ hand wrap around your arm, you turned your gaze to him and he gave you a simple warning look. 
“Yeah, listen to your perilous boyfriend little trollop,” Snape muttered loud enough for you to hear as he left, you snapped your head his way, jaw clenching, but Remus tightened his grip around your arm, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as he shook his head. You huffed, threw another hateful look his way but didn’t say more. 
Lily approached you with a rather hurt look “What the hell was that?” 
You were completely taken aback by that, “Pardon?” 
“You knew what you said would hurt him. And you used your words like weapons, he could have hexed you.” 
“I should have hexed him first,” you said and Lily gave you another reproachful look, “Lils he was being an asshole! Calling all of us those nasty things, you included!” 
Her face had that hurt look again, but she shook her head and focused her gaze on you again. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you have to stump to his level.” You let those words sink in, your eyes moving rapidly as you tried to process what she said, “it’s the most Slytherin thing I’ve ever seen you do. Did you even think how it might make me feel?” 
“I– I wasn’t… Lily, I would never–” 
“But you did,” she said, now looking more upset than angry, she shook her head with a huff and bit her tongue as if she knew she had probably used her own words like knives and had started to regret it after they came out of her mouth. “I’m going for some punch,” she added and walked towards the furthest wall. 
James looked at you, an apologetic expression on his face, “You okay Vix?” Remus placed his hand on your shoulder. 
“Yeah I’m–” you cut yourself off, “you should go check on Lily.”
“But–” 
“She’s upset James, you heard what he called her. I can’t go after her but you should.” 
He leaned his head to the side, as if contemplating his options and then looked at Remus who nodded, James mirrored his actions and ran behind Lily. As you saw his messy hair disappear in between the curtains you let out a long sigh. 
Remus was looking at you and saw you shake your head as if you were contemplating whether to say something or not and then, you turned to him, “You still want some?” you said as you offered the treat still in your hands. He gave you a look, eyebrows raised. “What?” 
“You’re just going to pretend all that didn’t happen?” 
You swallowed, “I don’t want to talk about it…” you said as you avoided his gaze, he gave you some time, still looking at you and you sighed again, “Was I really that much of a Slytherin?” 
Remus sighed himself, “You’ve always had bite, I don’t think that makes you any less of a Gryffindor.” 
“But I upset her…” you said with a huff, “and the hat did consider me putting me in Slytherin, and you all say I’m cunning and–”
“Hey,” he said calmly, easily getting your attention, “Lily was upset–” 
“Because I upset her!” 
Remus gave you a look, “Lily was upset because Severus was being a prick. And then you said something that upset her even further. And while I do think you would have been brilliant Slytherin,“ your gaze fell, “that’s because I think you would have been brilliant in whichever house the hat put you in. You’re smart and loyal and cunning,” he said calmly, shaking your shoulder just enough for you to look at him “but you know what?” he leaned down to catch your gaze, “I’ve never met someone as stupidly brave as you.” You smiled, finally looking at him. “Well, perhaps James, but… we all know he’s a bit more stupid than he is brave,” he said the last bit in a whisper, sure that it would make you laugh. 
You smiled, “Oh Remus…” you added, dragging the e from his name, “I’ll keep those words stored in my brain to blackmail you one day,” you joked. 
“See, you would have thrived with the snakes,” he joked again and you punched him lightly, which just got him to laugh. Remus’ laugh was awfully contagious and you laughed alongside him.
“Still want some?” you asked as you raised the treat again. Remus huffed a laugh and nodded, opening his mouth again as you leaned the small snack to his face. He leaned forward just a little and gave it a bite, eating about half of it. 
“Mmm, it’s actually really good,” he said as he covered his mouth to speak. 
You shrugged and brought it to your own face, taking what he’d left and plopping it all in your mouth. You took a bit more time savouring it like he did, and then nodded, completely agreeing with him. Once you swallowed, you spoke again. “Delightful,” you said, “thought we should be careful with Ackley’s tray, he’s charmed a good deal of them.” And then you got an idea, “Actually…” 
Remus shook his head with a small, worried frown. “That’s your ‘I’ve got an idea’ face.” 
“Is it?” you asked with an innocent tone. 
“We’ll never get invited again if you cause havoc,” he whispered. 
“Oh Remus, we are not going to be the ones causing the havoc,” you said with a smirk. 
While Remus tried to be the reasonable one, he could not resist the way your lips curled up into a sly, very fox-like smile, nor could he resist the temptation that your eyes shone with. He had never been the biggest fan of religious tales, of temptation or whatnot. But if you were Eve, and you had been persuaded by the snake to take the forbidden fruit, and then you’d turned to him with that same look, he sure would have also forgotten all the rules any sort of god imposed on him and given the fruit a bite, not because of how tasty the forbidden fruit looked, but because of the way he might have expected to be looked at by you afterwards. He wouldn’t have just given it a bite, he would have gobbled it and then many more if that made you happy. Perhaps it was Moony more than Remus, but he thrived in the excitement of pleasing you, even if it was just this once. 
Yes, Remus always wanted approval and respect from Lyall, he wanted to make him proud, but he had never wanted to make anyone as proud as he wanted to make you feel at that particular moment. He had never felt that craving to satisfy someone else’s desires. Except perhaps, for every time Sirius gave him a similar look.
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bigtreefest · 2 months
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Chapter 1: The President’s Son
From: Guardian Angel Series
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Pairing: (future) Mafia! Stucky x Bodyguard! Reader
Summary: A longtime client snubs you, causing you to leave the life you know
Word Count: 3,629
Content/Warnings: swears, patriarchy, weaponized incompetence, borderline mansplaining, yelling, fighting, mentions of nose picking, misogyny, secrets, explosions, mentions of weapons, strong female characters, no Steve or Bucky yet
A/N: Okay, here’s the start of something long-anticipated by me. I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is greatly appreciated, can’t wait to hear what you guys think!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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You stood in the back of the banquet hall, eyes surveying the room like they did any other, as you tried to appear as nonchalant waitstaff for the function. That was your specialty: blending in to the background, and you were damn good at it. Tonight’s job was to do so as your were protecting the most important individuals entrusted to you: the First Lady and her son.
You moved with ease throughout the evening, keeping mobile with your head on a swivel, eyes never leaving your two clients for more than a couple seconds. After a cocktail hour, everyone had sat down for dinner and a round of awards and speeches, leaving you here for a relatively easy period.
You didn’t work alone, no. You were here as part of a group. Part of a company, actually, and it belonged to your father. He ran a security conglomerate which focused heavily on government contracting, ranging from secret service duties, to vehicle brigades, to protection and procurement of goods, virtual and physical, and you knew every single part of it. You loved your job, and you loved working with your dad. For as long as you could remember, you would spend all of your free time in his office with him as he went through schedules, and escape plans, and all sorts of strategies to keep his patrons and their assets safe. You were always flitting around, learning new things, earning you the nickname ‘tweety bird’ from him, which correlated to your codename Redwing.
You’d picked it all up so easily, you were a natural, which earned you your first presidential-adjacent gig much younger than anyone else around. Sure, it started as you going to school and posing as another student to protect the president’s son, even thought you were a few years out already, which wasn’t necessarily glamorous, since you were meant to fly under the radar, but it was an independent job. One that was coming to a close, though, as this was your eighth year of doing the same. Soon, the president would be out of office, and the security detail on his family would be greatly reduced, likely no longer requiring your services.
Even as you let your mind wander, blocking out the droning speeches and rich people backstories, you remained on high alert. If anything bad was going to happen, you had a feeling it would be at an event like this one. An event where everyone had their guard down because it was for a universally agreeable good cause. But for some reason, heading into it tonight, something was churning in your gut.
After not being able to ignore the way your stomach twisted and turned, you had gone to speak to your father about tonight, requesting backup in addition to your other two friends, Natasha and Daisy, who often accompanied you to guard shifts associated with larger crowds.
Usually he was on the same page as you, but lately, your requests had been met with more protest, likely due to your little brother’s input buzzing in your father’s ear.
Your brother, Dylan, had just freshly turned eighteen, and with it came more responsibility in the agency. For being so much younger than you, your father was giving him mountains of control, including this event of your two most important clients. With your request of a team came the the caveat that your brother would be leading it.
Dylan was, to put it nicely, an oaf? Incapable of performing a task without crashing and burning, which made your blood boil. Probably from the fires he created and you subsequently had to put out. You had no room to complain, though, as your father dismissed you from his office.
So Dylan ‘led’ your team this evening, packed with his twerp friends who were more capable, but just as reckless as him. They’d listen to some of your orders, but not without the confirmation of your brother, who knew better enough sometimes to listen to your input.
You let him think he was in the lead tonight, executing a plan you had essentially spoon fed to him in your meetings leading up to the event. There were several backup plans and exit strategies that had their own code names, made by you, of course. All Dylan, or ‘The Chief,’ as he liked to go as over coms, had to do was keep an eye out on the cameras for any suspicious activity around the venue, and be prepared to drive away if he called for extraction due to suspicious activity. That was it. You and your two trusty companions would take control of everything inside the banquet, while two of Dylan’s friends surveilled the outside. Should be easy, right?
Dylan had been instructed to give an update through your earpiece every three minutes, on any action seen in the camera footage. Every time he did, though, it was accompanied by music blasting in the car, and the increments kept getting further and further apart. Almost like he was forgetting about his responsibilities and the importance of this event on your shoulders, should something go wrong. You rolled your eyes and kept a watch of the room. If you had such little backup, it was on you now to do this job, without the team you had specifically requested.
Dylan’s friends seemed to go quiet, too, which you were hoping wasn’t due to capture or something worse, but when you heard conversation about a fantasy football draft in your ear, you knew they were at least alive, although not helpful at all.
You were sick of running blind, though, so you casually made it look like your were scratching your ear and turned away from the crowd.
“Chief, status report.” Nothing. You waited thirty seconds. Silence.
You turned back to the room, the gnawing feeling in your stomach growing as you looked out at the crowd. Natasha, code name Widow, was making her way around with a tray of champagne flutes. Daisy, codename Blossom, sat in a vent somewhere, watching from above and monitoring everyone’s trackers. The three of you sighed and continued on, hoping this night wouldn’t be every eventful, but that’s never how life goes, is it?
“Blossom, report on coms. Is everything working?”
You waited a second for the response.
“All is good, Redwing. It’s a human, not technology error.”
You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that night, but were pulled out of your annoyance by a searing sound. In the next moment, just as you were about to ask for any other possible news from Daisy, a crackling took over your ear.
You fought the urge to wince and draw attention to yourself. It was probably Dylan finally getting back to you, but the voice that came through was one you’d never heard before. It was low and urgent.
“Get them out of there.”
You couldn’t help the way your eyes went wide and you whisper yelled, turning into the fake plant you found yourself nearby.
“Who is this? This is a secure line! What’s going on?”
You were surprised by the warning firmness of the speaker, it was menacing, who did this person think they were? Was that a threat?
“This is Bootleg. Your clients are in danger. What’s about to happen isn’t meant for them. Find a way to get them to leave.”
You sighed and nodded, although the disembodied voice named ‘Bootleg’ wasn’t reassuring. You knew to never turn down a tip, though. You weren’t going to risk it with clients like this. So you let out a sigh and made eye contact with Nat across the room.
“Execute plan beta sixteen alpha.”
She gave you a curt nod and increased her pace in a way only someone with your type of training could pick up. She was circling to make her movements seem undetectable, but she was ultimately going towards the First Lady and her son. Nat tripped, spilling the tray of champagne on their laps, causing them to gasp and look down. You could tell they were ready to yell, but they looked to your face and you nodded, signaling them to get up, brushing away anyone with apologies or offers for help, saying they were just going to clean up. The rest of the rich party goers didn’t pay it a second thought besides whispers of clumsy waitstaff. It’s not like they would bother to remember the face of one of them, though, and were too busy watching a fumbling Nat to see your approach to take your clients out of the venue. You did your best to move slowly to the same exit as them, and as soon as your bodies were behind the closed ballroom door, you were rushing them towards the back service door to get in Dylan’s getaway vehicle.
You ducked their heads under your arms as you rushed them out, and shoved them into the back of the town car, only giving a quick, breathless word to your clients and your brother.
“Take them home, Dyl. Fast. Don’t let yourself get tracked. I’ll take the decoy car. Go, now!”
He nodded like a bobble head, shifting the car in gear and peeling out of the lot as you jogged over to the other vehicle where Daisy and Nat were already waiting in the front seat for you. They moved fast.
You hopped in, Daisy expertly backing out until she hit the street. Just as she put it in drive, you flinched at a sudden noise and looked out the back window to where an explosion happened in front of the venue and soldiers dressed in all black rushed in through the cloud of smoke. This would definitely hit the news tomorrow, but you were sure your father would commend you for the safe delivery of two of his most important packages.
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Daisy and Nat had been by your side for as long a you could remember. When you were in elementary school, you remembered a brooding girl sitting at the end of the lunch table, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, with the angriest pout you’d ever seen. You walked over and plopped down with your tray.
“Hi.”
She looked up from her meal and to your smile and simply gave a blink of acknowledgment, face unchanging.
“Are you okay? Something wrong with your lunch?”
She shook her head and took a deep breath, sitting up to eat a tater tot.
“No. Something’s wrong with my shirt.”
You tilted your head to the side. “What about it? I think it’s beautiful. I love Daisies.”
She shrugged and continued to pick through her food. “Yeah, I guess they’re alright. But my mom forced me to wear this. I had a plain black shirt picked out and she gave me this. I don’t wanna wear daisies.”
You giggled and looked down at the plain black shirt on your body. “Trade?”
For the first time, you watched the corner of her lip reach a smile, your new friend who would soon earn the shirt flower as a nickname. That little grin was huge compared to the tight line her lip previously held. That was the start of a bunch of mini smirks and teamwork.
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Nat had been around since you were in diapers. Her parents had worked for your father’s organization their entire lives, so when they passed as she was in her teens, your family took her in.
She was always incredibly smart, her wit challenging you and Daisy, but the two of you would hit her right back. The timeline of her moving in with you, too, was a few years before the presidential gig started, but she rose through the ranks with you, through every single job, the two of you bringing Daisy on board who caught on quickly. Your grouping was nearly unrivaled. Nearly.
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Daisy and Nat physically stood by your sides as the three of you looked on to your father talking on a podium. Your best suits were pressed and tailored perfectly for the special occasion. It was his retirement party in your family’s backyard garden where he was noting the successes of the company under him, including the recent incident from which the two important clients had been saved.
The three of you lightly nudged each other’s arms in commendation for the quick act despite your lack of backup, a small smile on your face, a smirk on Nat’s, with Daisy looking as composed and stoic as ever. You father continued in his speech, noting the valiant effort that needs to be maintained in a generational business like this, one that should be rewarded and carried on for the generations to come. You stood straight, chin up with pride at your hard work and dedication finally paying off.
“I was a young pup, only in my early twenties when I took this business over from my father. He deemed me most fit for the job, so it is my pleasure to do the same, keeping this line of work led by my family. I’d like to name my replacement, someone who valiantly saved the president’s son and wife. Someone who the son has raved about for returning them home to the White House safely. My wonderful child…”
You were ready for the culmination of years being under his wing. He gestured his arm out to the side and you braced yourself for the good news, except the arm wasn’t outstretched towards you. It was directed towards the other side of the stage and everyone’s eyes followed. “Dylan.”
Dylan was jerkily shoved forward by one of his friends, having been zoned out for the entirety of your father’s speech, but at the sound of cheering and clapping, a smile grew on his face. He waved at the crowd, walking over to the podium to shake your father’s hand and give a word of his own.
Meanwhile, your face fell. It was dragged downward in defeat. You quickly pulled yourself together, though, at a squeeze to your arm. You couldn’t even tell which side it came from. Your body was going numb. Shifting to plant your feet and fighting the burn in your eyes, you looked straight forward, no longer at the podium, although you had no way to shut off your ears.
“Wow, wow. Thank you. This is such an honor. At eighteen years old, I will be the youngest to ever run this organization.”
It seemed like he’s was at least doing well and presenting a strong face. That was rare.
“Haha, I beat ya, gramps! Okay, let’s party!”
You outwardly cringed, but your legs were paralyzed as his friends let out a whooping cheer and the party erupted in confetti. It was getting caught in your hair as Nat and Daisy dragged you away and inside, up the stairs to your childhood bedroom, jostling you like a rag doll. You felt almost catatonic.
As soon as you flopped down on your bed, though, you turned over and screamed into your pillow before sitting up, realizing this act of melodrama was going to wrinkle your suit.
You sat up and sniffled, rubbing your eyes and taking a deep breath to give yourself just a moment to think. You looked between your best friends and started pointing.
“Daise, can you pack up anything you think I might need from here? Whatever I can’t live without.”
You then looked to the redhead who was peeking out the window, watching your father enter the outdoor entrance of his home office.
“Nat, can you gather some home essentials? Food, first aid, some of the hidden and spare weapons. Only the ones they won’t sense are missing, okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We better do it quick. Your pops just came in.”
You bit your lip and your nostrils flared in anger and thought, rubbing your hands over your face. “Okay. That’s fine, I need to talk to him anyway. That should give you enough time to grab everything. Then we’re heading back to the apartment to get some essentials.”
The three of you were roommates in the city, renting out a place Daisy’s distant uncle owned, which allowed you some freedoms, as well as independence from the possible tracing of your location on government records. Even under a security conglomerate, you could sense things were going downhill, so it was a good choice to move out and detach yourself. At this point, you were barely traceable. Only one thing tethered you here on a paper trail: the company.
You stormed out of your room and down the stairs to the hall that held your father’s office. You were furious. You had no patience left for formality or kindness, this was all rage. You kicked in the strong oak door, splintering the wooden frame, and were met with the view of your father and brother clinking whiskey glasses, an old celebratory reserve poured in them.
You stomped over to the filing cabinets where your file, thick as a novel, was stored. Next to it, you pulled out two more, no less impressive. Your dad, even though he possessed several methods for tech security, still kept employee information on paper in case he accidentally hired a mole. Everything was under lock and key and 24 hour surveillance.
You dug around in the left side drawer of his desk until you found the cigar lighter, hitting the edge of the folders until they caught and throwing them into his metal trash can. It was only then that he and your brother let words come out of their dropped jaws and awestruck faces.
“Tweety Bird, what’s the issue, kiddo? Didn’t wanna celebrate with your old man and little brother?”
You scoffed as you put your hands on your hips.
“Celebrate!? Celebrate what!? Being snubbed? Overlooked for something I’ve dedicated my life towards!?”
Your father’s bushy brows furrowed in confusion, your brother’s face mirroring it in a mini version. “What do you mean? You haven’t been snubbed. Dylan and I agree you’re meant to run teams and operations. You wouldn’t want to be in charge. Plus, it’s tradition that the first son takes over.”
You threw your hands up in exasperation. Smoke was filling the room, but partially getting swept out the cracked windows that pointed toward the back yard. “You didn’t think to ask me, the one keeping your business afloat, to run it!? No one knows it better than me, but it’s so ridiculous. Just because I’m an older sister like Aunt Kay, doesn’t mean I don’t wanna be in charge! She wanted to leave this life, but I don’t!”
You heard a chuckle rise behind you. “What, Dylan?”
He shrugged with a smug smile on his face. “Aunt Kay didn’t want to leave this life. She wanted the company, too. But Gramps gave it to dad. That’s why she fucked off to who knows where and started that bank vault company.”
You gasped in shock and looked to your father but he seemed unaffected. You turned to him now, disgusted with the sight of your little brother. “What!? Do you hear yourself right now!? Just because we aren’t men!? That’s insane!! I’m the one who saved the president’s family. Not Dylan, me! He was too busy sitting on his ass and picking his nose to be of any help. Maybe we would’ve seen the team coming to attack the venue sooner if he would’ve done his job!”
Your chest was heaving and your face was warm from the yelling. Your father still calmly continued. “Dylan returned the family safe and sound. You were nowhere to be seen. He deserves this step of responsibility, but I have no doubt you can guide him like an invisible hand.”
You shook your head, moving back towards the door between the leather couches of the sitting area, pacing on the Persian rug. “No, no. Absolutely not. I refuse to keep performing thankless service. You’ve made a mistake. I no longer want to work for you and I no longer want to be a part of this family. This whole thing is fucked. I’m out.”
Your father sighed, about to speak up. “Bird, we-“
He was cut off by the arm of your brother, though. “No, dad. If she wants to leave, I think she should. I don’t want anyone here questioning my leadership. The president’s son will back me on that. He’s upset the extraction ruined a designer suit and thinks that I’m the best fit, too. I can run this without her.”
Your dad gave a hmph of affirmation, which sent you over the edge. After all those years of service, both your father and the president’s son still didn’t credit your work. You couldn’t stand this anymore, especially not when Dylan was fabricating lies in his own head about the greatness you performed.
“You know what, Dyl? Yeah, let’s have it your way. You guys will never need to see me again. Good luck not running this thing into the ground.”
You turned on your heel and marched out the door. When you turned the corner, you saw both Nat and Daisy waiting for you, double fisting duffel bags. You motioned for both of them to head to Nat’s car, walking quickly, but they were more than capable of keeping up. You heard Daisy speak from over your left shoulder.
“Bird, where are we going?”
As you barged through the glass front door and put on your sunglasses, you took a breath in of the air that marked your new life, outside the stuffy patriarchy of what you thought would be your legacy.
“Somewhere far. And don’t ever call me that again.”
Next >
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Bonus A/N: Bruh, could you imagine being betrayed by your own father like that? Also, we’ll be seeing more of Daisy as the reader for Jake’s storyline in the future.
Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly
112 notes · View notes
chaostroberry1 · 3 months
Note
Haii can you do a hcs of the Greek brothers (Zeus included but it's fine if you don't want to) to their S/O who is a mortal from the modern era?? I rllyy like your writing especially the Apollo's one ^^
Ofc! I'm sorry for the long wait 🙇‍♀️ I've been eating and rotting in my bed for a while. I dont really know about what you are requesting, there's only very little description. So I'll try my best ^^
RoR Greek bros with modern mortal s/o
Zues
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- Mf is old as hell, literally. He'd be asking you all sorts of crap and wonder about the technology you have. He already knows about it, but he does like to stare and wonder what you do all day in that little rectangular piece of technology.
- He also tries to find ways to make you immortal, cus duh, he really likes you. But I think he'd be interested in cute little farm games online when you show him the stuff that you can do on your phone.
- he asks you to buy him a gadget, which you do so. but man, he sucks ass at it. You find him trying to figure out how to use it. Holding it upside down, pressing on all sorts of buttons until you have to lend me some help.
- he's also fond of the slangs and way you talk. He often uses your words too. Like "Lmfao!" Or "LOL!!"
- he wants to learn more about modern society, and everything there is to learn about. Until he found out about google. Mf now keeps on asking the stupidest questions, and even calls his brother's on facetime, just to talk to them about the stupidest shit.
- he'd laugh so loud when it comes to you telling him jokes from your TikTok brainrots and all.
- you talk to him about all the newest things happening, and all. And drama. But I think he's more interested in learning new words.
Adamas
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- yes he does use the slangs too. I bet he'd randomly gangsta talk outta nowhere and make the most out of pocket statements.
- give him some love, he's just having fun especially after all the stuff he went through.
- I know damn well he makes yo mama jokes, no matter how old that stuff be. He's older than you bro, he's been alive for a very long time. So you better teach him more to mama jokes.
- your fashion sense was interesting, he wanna dress cool too. So he's gonna force you to show him clothes that he'd like to wear, and he'd pick the edgiest ones. 😭
- he often gets annoyed at how you're always on your phone and not paying attention to him, which makes him wonder what's so good about it.
- you gave him a gadget, which he now likes to watch anime in, or sports probably. Basically anything interesting.
Hades
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- he finds you very endearing, and loves you very much. He'd find a way to turn you immortal so that he can care for you forever.
- yes he installed wifi in his place so that you could stay happy, and do whatever the hell you do on your gadgets.
- Bet you bought a TV and watched anime there with him, or maybe TV series or shows. Could even be horror movies. He loves to cuddle up with you whenever you guys watch a horror movie, cus he knows that he'll be the one to protect you when you get scared or tired.
- when you gave him a gadget, he didn't know what to use it for, but you said that he could chat with other people no matter where they at. And even store photos of whatever he wanted.
- it truly amazed him how far humanity had evolved. Now he can just search up anything he had questions about, or facetime his brother's, or buy something for you.
- he likes to listen to songs he finds, and now he's never really bored like he used to be. Maybe gadgets weren't so bad. He knows how to limit himself, and that's why he tries to limit it fro you too. He doesn't want your eyes to hurt, and wants you to get rest.
- there's so many things he wants to learn from you. And how humans do their daily thing. It's amusing to watch.
Poseidon
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- Bro he really loves you a lot, he just doesn't show it. But it definitely caught his attention seeing the odd way you talked or acted.
- when you introduced him to a gadget, he just shook it off, not wanting to get into pathetic little things like that, but you insisted. So now there he was.
- he really thought that humans were babied. The fact that they all gotten so lazy over the centuries gave him the ick.
- but he did find some helpful words to use whenever it came to describing stuff. But that's till doesn't help with anything. Like y'all have google, you don't need to waste your time studying when you can just do a quick search and boom, all the answers are there.
- you guys had online shopping, you didn't need to use your legs to do some work when you could just order online. And so much more. Humanity was babied. Everyone was pathetic in his eyes.
- but, you were an exception. Cus he liked you lots.
- I believe that over time, he'd catch himself talking like you, like "it gives me the ick." 💀
- he's such a bitch, but it's ok. Cus it's Poseidon.
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heavyhitterheaux · 7 months
Text
Got Me Thinking
Part 4: If Your Girl Only Knew (Slight NSFW)
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Synopsis: Jack invites you to one of his shows, and everyone is excited to see you, especially him. However, he had to warn you that the time had finally come for meeting the infamous Kelsey face to face.
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader
Series Masterlist
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Ever since that lust filled night when Jack came to visit, you were longing to see him again and be in his presence. During different times of the day, your thoughts would go back to that moment and how much pleasure he had brought you. So much that in more times than you could count, you found yourself having a river form in between your thighs and often found yourself putting your vibrator to good use. That would have to do at least until you saw him again.
Luckily a few weeks later, an opportunity arose when he called you on Facetime and asked you if you would want to come to one of his shows. Surprisingly, you hadn’t seen him perform since the two of you called it quits and thought it was long overdue.
You had kept tabs on him throughout the years and still supported him, but you simply did it from a distance.
“You busy this Friday?” He asked and all you did was eye him.
“Depends on who’s asking.” You answered while eating your chocolate covered strawberries that was from an edible arrangement that Jack had sent to your house earlier.
“Well I’m asking because I have a show I’m performing at in L.A. and I want you there with me.”
“Hmm, I guess I can fit you in my schedule.”
“What do you mean you guess? Stop acting like you don’t want my face buried between your thighs again. And I definitely want to be one of those strawberries right now. Why are you eating it like that? Getting me bricked up and shit.”
“Jackman! Cut it out, he’s downstairs.” You exclaimed while getting up to close your bedroom door.
“Like I give a flying fuck about that. He doesn’t deserve you anyway. Don’t act shy now, or did you forget what happened last night when I called you?”
You instantly got a smirk on your face remembering how Jack asked you to get off in front of him and all you remember was the camera view becoming blurry as he hit his peak and his cum went flying everywhere as he watched you.
“I see your phone survived what you put it through.”
“Look, it was your fault and I’d do it again too with no hesitation.”
“I know you would.”
Jack then got quiet and you looked at him curiously wondering what was on his mind.
“Jackson, why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”
He simply sighed before answering you.
“Kelsey is going to be there too.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Jack, that’s your wife isn’t it? I would expect her to be with you sometimes.”
“Yes, but….”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll play nice and be on my best behavior and I might give you a private show once you’re done with your own.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“Nope, you just have to be patient and wait and see. But, why am I worried about someone that clearly can’t give you what you want or satisfy you? From what everyone says about her, she obviously doesn’t compare to me.”
“Doesn’t even come close.”
“Isn’t it almost two in the morning over there? And where is she now?”
“It is and I have no idea where the hell she is and I don’t care. Probably out spending all my got damn money.”
You stifled a laugh and he simply shook his head.
“Well Clay does call her the wicked witch of the west for a reason.”
“And now I’ve really started to see why over the last two months.”
“We’ll talk about it later, but for right now you need to go to sleep and get all the rest you can get for Friday.”
“Oh, and why is that?”
“Because you’ll have two performances to put on. One for your fans and the other one is for my eyes only. How do you think Kelsey would feel if we had a few minutes to ourselves after the show?”
“I can arrange it and make it happen and she can get the fuck over it.”
Friday was now here and you were on your way to the venue and made sure to leave a bit early so that being stuck in traffic wouldn’t become an issue. As you were driving, a facetime call came through and you saw it was Clay and quickly answered. You were now suddenly concerned and was hoping that everything was okay with Jack.
“Clay! Hi boo, what’s going on? Everything okay?”
“Please tell me you’re still coming, but hi to you too!”
“What the? What’s wrong?”
“Jack is in a mood again and you can guess why because there is literally only one answer at this point.”
“Oh, goodness.”
“I wish she would have stayed home but NOPE. So here we are and everyone is miserable so PLEASE tell me that you’re almost here. I don’t know how much more of her we can take.”
“Of course I’m still coming and I’m actually almost there. I left a little early because I knew traffic was going to be crazy.”
Just then Urban popped into the frame and was waving at you.
“Y/N!”
“URBANNN!”
“Hurry up and get your ass here. I’ll meet you outside and bring you to where everyone is. But uh, did he warn you about….?”
“Yes, I know.”
“Okay good. Didn’t want you walking into any surprises.”
“I’ll see you two in about ten minutes.” Without another word, you hung up and turned your attention back to the road ahead.
As promised, Urban met you outside and led you backstage where everyone was. As soon as you walked in the room, all attention was on you and Clay was the first one to capture you in a hug.
“We’re saved, we’re saved.” He whispered in your ear and you couldn’t help but laugh. When you looked over at Urban, he was laughing too so he obviously must have heard what Clay said.
“Y/N! Clay, move and stop hogging her!” Ace exclaimed while trying to get in between the two of you.
“Hiii Ace.”
“Hello, Y/N, and we need to talk business. As in business being your older sister.”
“ACE!! Leave the girl alone! She just got here! At least let her settle in before you start harassing her! Hi Y/N, I’m Neelam and I’ve heard such good things about you from Jack. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” So, this was the famous Neelam that everyone talked about.
“It’s so nice to meet you too!” You responded while returning the hug that she was giving you.
You scanned the room and didn’t see Jack or Kelsey so you assumed that they were together and sure enough right on cue, they both entered. Jack was walking in front of her and clearly pissed off about something as she was following behind him like a lost puppy and there was an obvious pout on her face.
“Babe!”
“Kelsey, drop it. I’m done talking about it.”
When Jack looked up and saw you, his grim mood turned the corner for the better and immediately ran over to you and picked you up as you began to laugh.
“Hiii boo. I see you’ve missed me.”
“You have NO idea.” He said loud enough so that only you could hear and squeezed you tighter. 
“When you left, I lost a part of me. It’s still so hard to believe, come back baby please cause weeee belong togetherrrr.” Clay started to sing when the two of you embraced and it was giving everyone in the entire room the hardest time in order not to laugh.
“I just love Mariah Carey. One of my favorites. Yall think she’s going to do a Vegas residency soon?” Clay asked as he was scrolling through his phone.
“I’d definitely come with you if she does.” Urban responded while shrugging and Neelam was eyeing the two of them.
She quickly mouthed ‘Behave’ while trying not to laugh herself.
Once Jack had placed you back on your feet, you suddenly felt a presence next to you and turned around to be face to face with Kelsey herself.
“Babe, who’s this?” She asked Jack and he clearly looked annoyed at the fact that she was even talking to him.
“Y/N, this is Kelsey, Kelsey this is Y/N, we went to high school together. She lives here and I asked her to come.” He answered while not taking his eyes off of you and his left arm was still around your waist which she was quick to notice. 
“It’s so nice to meet you.” You said as you held your hand out towards her, but she examined it before she took it.
“Oh, someone’s jealous.” Clay whispered to Urban and he immediately nodded.
“I didn’t realize you two were so close and had no idea you would be here tonight. I feel that is something important that you should tell your wife, don’t you think, Jackman?”
“Here she goes.” Clay quietly said while keeping his focus on his phone.
“They’ve been a lot closer than she thinks.” Urban muttered next to Clay and they both began to laugh.
“Kelsey, don’t start. So I have to tell you about every single person that I went to high school with and decided to reconnect with them?”
“I didn’t even mean it like that.”
“Well it sounds like you did.”
“Damn, 100 points to Gryffindor. He got her good with that one.” Ace said from behind you as you were simply standing there because it was now awkward.
Kelsey then turned back to you and gave you the fakest smile that she could muster. There was something about you that she couldn’t put her finger on, but she already knew for a fact she didn’t like you.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N.”
“Okay, is she settled in now Neelam? Y/N! Let me at Janelle!” Ace said as he was now at the snack table and all you did was shake your head at him.
The time waiting for Jack’s set was spent with you goofing around with everyone backstage and getting to do a mini photoshoot in the hallway with Urban taking the pictures in order for you to be able to post them on your instagram later.
When you were across the room talking to 2fo with Jack right beside you, Kelsey went and sat next to Clay who had a confused look on his face when he noticed her.
“Uhh? Did you need something Kelsey?” He politely asked as he was silently cursing Urban for leaving him there by himself.
“How does Jack know her?”
“He told you earlier. They went to high school together. Didn’t you hear him?
“And they were just friends?” She asked, trying to find out more information about you.
“Don’t you think that this is a conversation for you and your husband to have?” Clay asked while finally turning to look at her.
“He doesn’t want to tell me anything anymore.”
“Hmm, I wonder why. Evil ass.” Clay muttered to himself so that she wouldn’t be able to hear.
“You still need to ask him and not me.”
“Is there…. Is there something I should be worried about?”
“Meaning what exactly?”
“Jack hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since he saw her when she got here.”
“Well.. they haven’t seen each other in a long time and they were really close.”
“How close?”
“Kelsey, ask my brother.”
“But obviously you know something, but aren’t telling me.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re a little jealous? You’re the wife, right? So you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
“I’m not jealous! It just seems like everyone adores her and all of the attention has been on her.”
“She’s an amazing person. Always has been. Our parents absolutely love her too.”
“Wait, she knows your parents, too?!”
“Like I said before, they were extremely close.”
Soon there was only about twenty more minutes until it was time for Jack to go on stage and you wanted to give him a small gift since you still hadn’t gotten him anything for his birthday. You knew deep down that he didn’t care and was simply excited to see you, but you still wanted to do something nice for him. As he was about to head to his dressing room, you grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Hey, I have something to give you, but I want it to be when we’re by ourselves.”
“Hmm, is it what I think it is?” He asked as he wiggled his eyebrows and you quickly smacked his arm.
“Behave! And no, but… if we can make our way to your dressing room now, I can give you a good luck kiss and maybe a little more?”
All he did was smirk and start to play with the ends of your hair which Kelsey was very quick to notice and was quick to interrupt.
“Babe, isn’t it time for your good luck kiss since you’re about to hit the stage?”
“Gag me with a spoon.” Quiiso said to 2fo who was trying not to laugh.
“Um, sure in a minute. Let me go get dressed first. And Y/N had something to show me so we’ll be back.”
He put his hand on the small of your back and guided you down the hallway to his dressing room as Kelsey was left sitting there fuming at what just happened.
Once the two of you got to his dressing room, he closed the door behind him and locked it then his lips were instantly on yours.
“Mm, I’ve missed that and this.” He said as his hand went to cup your ass in the skirt that you were wearing.
“You definitely made that clear on our facetime call earlier this week.”
“So, what did you want to give to me? Is it another purple thong? Because at this point I’m about to start collecting them like infinity stones.”
“I literally CANNOT with your ass.” You said while laughing and Jack pulled you closer to him so that he was able to kiss you once more.
“Look, I figured I’d ask and when I collected all of them it would unlock some type of bonus scene.”
“Jackson PLEASE stop talking.” You responded as you continued to laugh.
“What?!  What’d I say?!”
“Anyway, for starters, it’s not a thong because I’m not wearing anything under my outfit at all.” You whispered against his lips and grabbed his hand to place it underneath your skirt.
His fingers grazed against your core and you were getting wetter by the second. He then inserted two of his fingers and slowly moved them before putting them in his mouth and sucking on them. Just like he did the last time the two of you saw each other.
“There’s definitely more where that came from, but we have to save it for later.” He quietly said, but all you did was get on your knees without breaking eye contact with him and started playing with the waistband of his sweatpants.
“You definitely don’t need a good luck kiss from Kelsey, but will good luck head be acceptable?”
All he did was nod his head as you pulled down his sweatpants and boxer briefs and immediately took him in your mouth.
“Ahh shit.”
Jack didn’t want to mess up your hair so he simply pushed it back out of your face as you continued to pleasure him.
“I’m definitely going to need you to sit on my face after this later. FUCK!”
Because you knew that he didn’t have a lot of time, you were trying to move as fast as possible in order to get him to cum and you could tell that it was working seeing as Jack’s eyes were now closed as he threw his head back in pleasure and was trying to lightly force you down on him.
“My girl looks so pretty taking all of me in her mouth. That’s it baby, that’s it. I’m close.”
You hearing him say that he was close made you move even quicker with a sense of urgency because the last thing you wanted was for him to be late for his set.
“Fuck!” Was the last thing you heard as he came in your mouth and you swallowed it without wasting a drop.
When he was finished coming down from his high, he looked down at you and smiled before helping you to your feet and kissing you.
“I want to return the favor.”
“But… we don’t have a lot of time.”
“We have as much time as I say we have. I’m the headliner and calling the damn shots.” Was all he said before leading you to the couch and immediately pulling your shirt down to expose your breasts that he began to play with them, lightly sucking and biting.
“Babe, that’s going to leave a mark.” You whined and he simply shrugged.
“I’m marking my territory.”
He didn’t waste a lot of time before pulling your skirt up to your hips, spreading your legs and diving in head first.
By the time that Jack had gotten dressed and you had given him his gift, which was an exclusive Rolex that was personalized and had his initials on the band inside, he was only a minute late. 
“I’m definitely wearing this onstage. Thank you Buttercup.” He said as he leaned down to kiss you and you were simply admiring his outfit as you helped him put on the watch. 
His outfit was your favorite color.
Green.
“Hmm, you wore this outfit on purpose, didn’t you?” You asked and all he did was smirk.
“What ever do you mean, baby?”
“Such a fucking tease.”
As you were in the front and standing off to the side watching Jack perform, Neelam came up to you and smiled. You returned the smile and the two of you watched him in silence before she turned back to you to say something.
“Y/N, I just wanted to tell you how much the people around him see how much happier he’s been since you two reconnected.”
“Well you can thank Clay for that.” You said thinking about when he first asked you.
“I.. look.. Jack is not only my client, but someone who I consider my little brother. He has talked about you non-stop and all I want is for him to be happy and I know that his happiness is wherever you are. Kelsey isn’t good for him and we could all see it from the beginning. He just didn’t want to listen. ”She said, being completely honest.
“That seems to be the running theme of what everyone keeps telling me. He’s definitely important to me and I want the best for him. I just wish sometimes that we never broke up because I always think about how our life might have turned out differently.”
“Well the two of you reconnecting wasn’t by chance and it was definitely meant to happen. I just want you to know that whatever that you two have going on because I know that there is something there because my big sister radar is going off, I support it. I just want him to be happy again. That’s all we literally all want.”
“I wish it was that simple.” You replied while sighing.
“Well, why isn’t it?”
“You said Jack told you a lot about me, but did he mention my husband?”
Neelam looked at you dumbfounded before she responded.
“You act like the word divorce doesn’t exist?”
“And that’s my problem.”
“What is?”
“I love Jack like if he would have asked me to elope when we were eighteen, I would have without a second thought and that is still true as we speak, but I also love my husband as fucked up of a person that he is and I’m having second thoughts about divorcing him.”
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Liked by urbanwyatt, jackharlow, neelamthadhani, claybornharlow, thenursecorner, and 450,831 others
anesthesiabae: friends supporting friends
jackharlow love you forever and I will always be proud of you 💖
jackharlow: so happy you came tonight, thank you 😘 claybornharlow: reunited and it feels so good yungskylark: aye! y/n lemme get Janelle's number!!! anesthesiabae: jackharlow any time you need me, I'm here urbanwyatt: mariah carey- anytime you need a friend jackharlow: anesthesiabae so this means I can ask for my hoodie back now right? anesthesiabae: ACE... NO! and jackharlow if I didn't give it back and 12 years have now passed, what makes you think that you'll get it at all? jackharlow: anesthesiabae closed mouths don't get fed, now do they? neelamthadhani: so happy that I finally got to meet you! jackharlowsource: oohh she's pretty! jackharlow spill! who is this pretty lady?!
177 notes · View notes
a-killer-obsession · 3 months
Text
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PITCHING TENTS ⛺️
Kid Pirates x AFAB Reader Modern AU Campground Series
🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞
It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you went camping to spend time alone. At first, that had been the case, but you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger.
Masterlist || AO3 || Part One
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PART 4/6 - GODDESS (Heat)
CW: sex with a stranger, afab reader, drug use, public sex, semi-public sex, outdoor sex, face sitting, p in v sex, body worship, roleplay, foot fetish, squirting, cumshot, mutual masturbation
WC: 4k
Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin @bbnbhm
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The rest of your neighbours pulled into the carpark as you happened to making your way down the shop ramp, bag of ice in hand. Killer, behind the steering wheel of the noisy vehicle, noticed you immediately and pulled up beside the ramp with a shit eating grin on his face. You waited for him to roll down the window to talk.
“What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here on your own?” He joked, playing like he'd never met you.
“Getting ice for your friend's dead body,” you laughed back, feigning a cruel smile and holding up the bag of ice, “poor Kid couldn't handle me”
“Damn, you got him to shut up?” Killer snorted, “Hop in, we'll give you a ride back to your tent”
The passenger on your side in the back, Heat you now knew he was called, shuffled over so you could jump in the door closest to you. You had to almost throw yourself in with how tall the truck was, but you managed.
“Heat, Wire, this is [y/n],” Killer introduced you quickly before pulling up next to the gate to swipe his access card.
“Nice to meet you,” you smiled sweetly, sitting the bag of ice on the floor between you and Heat.
“Hey, do you come to this site often?” Heat asked, “I was wondering if there was anywhere for a bonfire you knew of”
“Oh, yeah absolutely,” you replied, “there's a field near the hiking trail that has a somewhat permanent burned out patch where the teens like to set a bonfire around New Year's. You gotta watch for the sheep if there's any in the field but the farmer doesn't seem to care about bonfires. You planning on lighting one up tonight?”
“Yeah, did you want to join us?” he asked, a little shyly. It wasn't hard to notice the way he was eyeing your exposed thighs in your slightly hiked up short dress, and you made no move to pull your dress down.
“Absolutely, Kid owes me a beer,” you smiled knowingly in the mirror at Killer.
“Oh does he now?” Killer smirked back, clearly catching your meaning.
“Met him in the pool,” you explained, mostly for the benefit of the other two, “kept the poor lonely man company since you lot left him here”
“The poor baby,” Killer snorted, noting the fresh marks on your neck and chest through the rear view mirror.
Heat grabbed the bag of ice for you as Killer parked in their spot, carrying it over to your own site without even having to be asked, what a gentleman. “Where you want this?” He asked as he followed you. You unzipped the tent door and opened the cooler for him.
“Just in here, thanks for carrying it,” you smiled, sitting on the edge of your tall blow up mattress. Heat spilt some of the ice as he noticed the large dildo sitting casually on the covers, right where you'd left it after pleasuring yourself before heading to grab ice. You knew full well it was there, and made no attempt to hide it, curious as to how he would react. Flustered, was the answer you got.
“Fuck, sorry,” he stuttered, kicking the dropped ice out the tent door before it could melt. The small room wasn't quite tall enough for him to stand, but it was pretty close, a damn lot taller than his own shitty tent. An average height man would no doubt fit easily in here, but he was absolutely taller than average. “I should get back,” he scratched his head, awkwardly standing sort of bent over in the first chamber of the tent.
“You don't have to,” you purred, opening your legs just enough for him to get a flash of your lace panties, “but if you have to, let the others know it's about a ten minute walk to the field, come grab me when you're ready to head out later”
“Okay, yeah, no problem,” he coughed, fleeing with a vibrant blush on his face that made you giggle at his bashfulness.
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You weren't surprised when Killer presented you with a plate of barbecued meats and deli salads before you even had a chance to make your own dinner. A thanks for ‘keeping Kid company’ he said as he left the plate with you. A few hours later and the blue mop of hair belonging to Heat appeared at one of your mesh windows, having been inside your tent to watch some more trashy tv on your laptop.
“We're gonna head out soon if you're ready?” He asked awkwardly, trying not to look in the window in case you were… doing something.
“Thanks Heat baby,” you cooed back, closing your laptop and grabbing a small backpack you'd filled with the essentials, aka snacks, a small blanket, condoms, and a bluetooth speaker, in case they didn't have one.
“We have plenty of booze in our cooler if you just want to drink what we have,” he suggested as you zipped your tent shut behind you.
“That'd be fantastic,” you hooked your arm around his and could already see the pink blooming on his face. “Shall I lead the way?”
The other three boys collected their things, Killer carrying a large cooler, Kid and Wire carrying bags of store bought firewood, and Heat grabbing a backpack and slinging it over his other shoulder before letting you lead him away. You led the boys out past the camp store, now closed, locked up and abandoned for the night, through past a old wooden sign marking the start of the hiking trail. The first ten minutes of the trail was actually just regular grazing fields, and Heat being a gentleman helped you over the wooden stiles that allowed for easy passage over the wire farm fences. You almost lost your footing on the uneven ground a few times, the grass full of small holes from the cattle and sheep that were occasionally rotated through the fields. As you approached the edge of the forest you veered off to the side, leading the small convoy to a decently sized circle of rocks in the middle of a secluded field, the middle of the rocks filled with ash and the remnants of old fires. Around the rocks were several small wooden benches that someone had added a few years ago, you weren't sure if that was the farmer's or camp owner's doing but it seemed they had some sort of agreement regarding the bonfire field. The boys dumped their things around the ring and set about starting the fire, the daylight quickly fading as the sun disappeared behind nearby mountains on the other side of the valley that the campgrounds were sitting in.
“Nice quiet spot,” Killer noted.
“Yeah, teens like it cos nobody gives a shit if they underage drink out here,” you explained, “this time of the year nobody comes out here though”
“And you said there's a hiking trail nearby?” Wire asked. You wondered if it was the first time you'd heard the tall man speak.
“Yeah, we passed the sign for it on the way in but its not well known since you gotta be in the camp carpark to see the sign, only locals and avid hikers with guidebooks come out here.” You pointed to the thin dirt trail that disappeared at the edge of the forest, “real trail starts just over there. It's about a three hour hike from start to end,” you looked at his long legs, “maybe one and a half for you,” you smiled at him, “and ends on the other side of the camp, through a few more fields. Then you just gotta make a ten minute walk back up the road to get back to camp. I prefer to just get to the summit and come back the way I came though, there's a lot of trucks on that road that couldn't care less about hikers, and no real path, just grassy shoulders.”
“Noted,” he mumbled, sticking his hands in the pocket of his hoodie as he sat. He looked a little ridiculous on the short bench given his height. In fact, they all looked a little funny. Apart from the bench you were forcing Heat to share with you, your arm still linked with his, the others had all opted to claim their own bench each. Just as well, you weren't sure these handmade benches could handle more than one of them at a time. Big boys. Big… big… boys, you smirked to yourself. “I'll probably check it out tomorrow, if the weather is good,” the hooded man continued.
“I was planning on heading up myself,” you replied, “you want company?”
“No,” he replied sternly. You rolled your eyes, grumpy man. You had a feeling you wouldn't be climbing that particular tree this holiday. No matter, you had Kid and Killer, and Heat was looking promising.
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Hours passed and among good company you'd managed to get a good buzz on. The fire was roaring, but the last of the wood had just been thrown on. Wire, being the grump he was, had already excused himself and headed back half an hour ago to head to bed. You felt like you hadn't learned anything additional about the man, who had spent most of the time sitting quietly while everyone else talked.
At some point you'd managed to cheese your way into Heat's lap, sharing a joint with him while he stroked your bare thigh. His hands were so very warm, they left goosebumps whenever they moved and exposed your thigh to the cool evening air. One of your hands was buried in this hair, scratching the back of his head, you swore you heard a small whine from him when you first did it.
“Come on Kid, these two have more than enough company,” Killer laughed, a little wobbly on his feet from drinking as he stood.
“What, but I wanna see her tits again,” Kid complained.
“Again?” Heat blinked. You snorted a laugh at the whole situation.
“Kid, if I show you my tits will you leave?” You offered. Kid pondered for a moment, his shaved brows furrowed in drunken thought.
“Only if I can give em a grab,” he decided. Killer rolled his eyes and groaned.
“Alright, deal,” you stood and pulled your dress over your head, and Heat made a surprised little gasp as your tits fell loose from the fabric, having not worn a bra. “You don't mind, do you Heat?” You purred, making yourself comfortable in his lap again, this time with your back to his chest. He'd been half hard underneath you all evening but now he was twitching to life. You encouraged him to wrap his arms around your waist, mostly because you were cold now without your dress and he was so very warm.
Kid smirked and raced over, taking one of your tits in his hand enthusiastically and groping you. You were certain he would have stayed there forever if Killer didn't drag him away by the ear with a disgruntled “come on big guy, let Heat have a chance”, but not before taking a cheeky grab for himself. You got up just for a second to turn in Heat's lap as the others finally left, not that you wouldn't have gladly fucked Heat in front of them anyway.
“Finally I have you all to myself,” you smirked, rolling your hips against him. He let out a shaky rasp and grabbed your ass, fondling the soft fleah and leaning back a little as you grinded against him.
“Are you… are you sure you want me?” He asked nervously, not meeting your eye as his confidence suddenly faltered. “You wouldn't rather go with them?”
“And miss riding this pretty face?” You cooed, running your fingertip over his fascinating facial scars, “you will let me ride it, won't you pretty boy?”
“Yes! Of course,” he replied enthusiastically, his confidence reignited. “Please”
“I love your enthusiasm,” you purred, your lips so close to his he could feel your breath against them, “but I wanna get a taste of you first, before you taste like me”
He groaned and squeezed your ass as your lips crashed against his, his tongue greedily hunting for yours immediately. The groves on his scarred lips felt nice against yours, an interesting new texture, and his tongue was strong and hot against yours, saliva and moans exchanged as you rolled against him. He let you dominate the kiss, a refreshing take for you. Nine times out of ten, when offered a willing hot wet hole, the strangers you pulled liked to dominate you, and you had no problem with that. You loved the rough fucks they gave you and the dirty degrading things they called you while they filled you. But once in a while came along a rare gem like Heat, soft and sweet and ripe to take a juicy bite from, an opportunity to flex your more dominant side.
“You're so cute,” you mumbled against his neck as you broke the kiss to nip and suck at his tattooed neck, tracing the inked maroon thorns with your tongue, “so unbelievably sexy as well, I think I'd like to ride that pretty face now though”
Heat made a soft moan and swivelled on the bench so his legs were either side of it, pulling you with him. He laid back and you took the opportunity to properly grind yourself against his erection now that he was flat. You could feel the wet patch in your panties as you rubbed against what felt like yet another massive cock, what luck you were having. He admired the way your breasts bounced slightly with every movement, he wanted to suck on them so badly but he'd be patient for now, he knew he'd get the opportunity later. You stepped off him for a moment to remove your panties, leaving you entirely naked in the field. Heat thought you looked like a goddess as you straddled back over him, the orange light of the fire making your skin glow like you yourself were a deity made of fire, your hair shiny and wild in the firelight like it was set a flame.
He watched with hungry fascination as you sat on his chest, your pussy within eyeline, glistening in the flickering light as you spread yourself for him with your index and ring finger while your middle finger ran circles on your clit. His hands travelled up your sides, making you shiver, till they found your breasts and grasped them, his thumbs flicking over your pert nipples, making you buck slightly.
He stuck out his tongue for you, begging for you to ride it, wide and hot and wet, and you smiled fondly as you accepted his invitation, lowering yourself onto his face with a moan. His hands moved to your thighs, wrapping around them and holding you down tight as he lapped at your pussy, bullying his thick tongue inside you. One hand reached around to play with your clit, and you leaned back with your hands on his strong thighs as you savoured his mouth on you.
“Ohh that feels so good pretty boy,” you moaned, one hand burying itself in his hair “good boy Heat, good boy”
He whimpered against you and doubled his efforts, your hips rolling and rutting against his tongue and nose on their own accord till you shook and came on his face with a short spurt of fluid. He nosed your clit as he used his tongue to clean you, moaning as the aftershocks of your orgasm rocked through your body. You shuffled off his face to sit on his midriff, leaning down to kiss him and tasting yourself on his lips, still wet with your release.
“Fuck,” you said with a shakey voice as you sat back up, “and here I was intent on riding that dick too, but you made me cum so damn hard my legs are jelly”
He gave you a proud grin as he sat up, moving you down to his groin with strong hands like you weighed no more than a bag of grapes. He pushed your hair out of the way to kiss your neck, running his tongue up it and tugging on your earlobe with gentle teeth. “Let me take care of you then, goddess,” he mumbled against your neck.
“Goddess? I like that,” you purred.
“I'm gonna,” he kissed down your chest, “worship,” kiss, “every,” kiss, “part of you.” You moaned as he took your breast in his mouth, running his tongue over your nipple and sucking on the malleable flesh before letting it go with a pop and moving to the other, his groans vibrating against your skin as you eagerly grinded against his clothed erection, leaving a wet spot on the front of his pants. God you wanted him so fucking bad.
“There's a blanket in my bag Heat,” you moaned as your hands threaded through his hair. Never before had you ever felt so intimate with a stranger, but the way Heat touched you and laid soft kisses over your chest and neck made you feel like you were with a long time lover. “Lay me down and make love to me”
“Whatever you want, my goddess,” he groaned against your bare skin. You slid off his lap and grabbed your bag, handing him the blanket. He laid it over the grass and offered you his hand, and he helped you lay on the blanket, the fire still lighting you in a warm orange that made his dick twitch at your beauty. So smooth and soft in the firelight, bare to him like you'd emerged from the fire itself just to sate your lust with him, a humble devotee, blessing him with your mere presence.
You watched with hungry eyes as he removed his clothes piece by piece, devouring him with your eyes as more and more of his muscular body was revealed to you, a hand between your spread legs to touch yourself as you watched him. The firelight made small glints on the underside of his large cock as he stood in front of you stroking it, the two of you getting off on watching each other get off, and you bit your lip as you realised he was pierced and the glints were the light catching on the metal ball bearings. His cock was somehow longer than Killer's, wider towards the end, a set of three piercings like a ladder up the underside.
Enjoying the goddess roleplay he was setting, you leaned into it, slipping off your sandals, the only items you still wore, and lifting a foot to point it towards him. “Come worship me, come show your goddess how devoted you are”
He stepped closer and took your ankle in his hand, running his tongue up the sole of your foot, making you squirm at the tickling sensation. He groaned as he took your big toe in his mouth, sucking on it and watching you with a dark look in his eyes that made you unbearably wet. It was quickly clear to you that Heat enjoyed feet, you often found that men were more willing to let themselves go to their kinks when it was with a stranger, and you were happy to indulge even if it wasn't really your thing. Your other foot lifted and pressed against his cock, pushing it up against his abdomen so you were stroking him with the sole of your foot. He whined against and bucked against your foot, the piercings feeling strange and pleasant against your sole. Desperate to feel your wet heat on his aching cock, he kissed up your ankle, lowering himself to the blanket like a man kneeling at your altar as he kissed all the way up your calf and thigh. He stopped for a moment to enjoy your pussy, already craving that taste again like a man addicted, before you pulled on his hair with a whine, needy to have him inside you.
He took the hint and quickly fumbled around in his discarded pants, kneeling between your legs while you stroked him languidly and he searched his pockets. He pulled a condom from them and threw the pants aside. You let him go so he could put the condom on, and you spread wide for him as he lowered himself over you, his tip pressing against your entrance.
“Come worship me, Heat,” you moaned, your eyes locked with his as his brows furrowed and he sunk inside you. “Oh fuck, yes~”
His hands and mouth drifted over your body as he started to thrust into you, kissing and touching whatever he could reach, the pull of your walls on his cock driving him insane with lust. He leaned back and tucked his hands under your ass, forcing it upwards, the new angle making you whine as he supported you above the ground effortlessly while still fucking you hard at a rapidly increasing pace.
“You're so beautiful goddess,” he whined, “so fucking beautiful”
“I want your cum, worshipper,” you moaned, “show me how much you love your goddess, make me cream on your cock and paint me with your sacrifice”
He let out a throaty groan as his thrusts became irregular and desperate, fucking into you with everything he had. You reached down and rubbed your clit furiously, crying out as your orgasm crashed through you and you squirted, the hot liquid splashing against Heat's abdomen and dripping down his thighs, glistening in the firelight and soaking into the blanket beneath you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pulled out and tore off the condom, raising himself slightly to jerk himself off over your stomach, “I'm cumming goddess, fuck, accept my sacrifice please”
Long ropes of cum shot out over you, spraying over your breasts and neck with wet splats as he threw back his head and let out a carnal groan, one of his hands gripping your thigh for support. He crumbled on himself as he finished, his hand still wrapped around his softening cock, panting hard. When he finally came back to earth enough to admire his work, you ran two fingers up your stomach and swiped the cum, sucking it off your fingers with a satisfied hum.
“Such a good boy for me Heat,” you purred, “come lay with me, your goddess is pleased”
Heat collapsed on the blanket next to you, uncaring that you were covered in cum as he draped an arm over you and pulled you close. The two of you laid there for a while longer till you began to shiver, and Heat made quick work using his shirt to clean you up, only bothering to put his pants back on while you redressed yourself. He snuffed out the fire and carried your bag for you as he led you back to the campgrounds hand in hand. He was prepared to go back to his tent alone, but you insisted he stay with you, so the two of you curled up in your bed and you fell asleep with his warm chest against your back, his leg trapped between your thighs, and your fingers intertwined over your chest.
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[NEXT PART]
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 years
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Read Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 1 first :)
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Eddie and Steve slept for hours, while Wayne sat waiting. He kept a few crossword puzzles by his designated chair for the times he sat with Eddie, but this time, he couldn’t focus on anything but the way Steve and Eddie kept moving closer to each other in small ways in their sleep.
He’d considered waking Steve up a few times just so he didn’t have to watch his back and neck bend at such an impossible angle.
But god, he was resting.
Wayne wasn’t interrupting any sleep that boy got.
But he watched them both curl into each other incrementally, barely moving, yet always closer together every time Wayne looked at them.
Steve’s face was almost completely buried against Eddie’s “good” hip. If you asked Wayne, he didn’t have a good hip, he just had less stitches on one side.
Eddie’s right hand was placed in Steve’s on the bed, and his left hand was holding onto Steve’s hair for dear life. Like if he let go, Steve would disappear entirely.
From what Wayne knew of Steve so far, he wouldn’t be going anywhere unless he was physically forced.
Eddie’s body was relaxed, the drugs constantly flowing through the IV probably keeping him from experiencing any major pain. He had more stitches in his body than a sweater, and Wayne had no idea how he would heal physically or mentally from any of what happened.
But Wayne was honestly more worried for Steve.
Steve, the boy who had been exhausted since he was a small child, the boy who had refused medical care to make sure Eddie wasn’t alone or scared, the boy always secretly ready to let someone down.
He knew Richard Harrington. He knew how much of a showboat he was, how he never did anything unless it benefitted him personally or led to financial gain. Wayne even remembered shortly after Steve was born, he took an ad in the newspaper for a nanny who was willing to work ‘most days of the week and some nights, minimum wage, cooking and cleaning expected.’ Within a week, Richard and his wife Anne, were gone more than they were home.
Wayne wasn’t much for socializing or he probably would have caught Steve out and about with the nanny often. God knows Richard and Anne weren’t going to run errands.
But looking at the young adult in front of him, he had to think maybe it was a good thing Richard didn’t dig his claws in too deep. He knew if he had, Eddie would have been sitting alone right now, and Steve would be at some Ivy League college becoming something he didn’t even realize he didn’t want until it was too late.
Eddie visibly tensed, his body suddenly going rigid.
Steve was awake and fretting over Eddie before Wayne could even stand up from his chair.
“What hurts? Is it your side? I was hurting you wasn’t I? I’m sorry, Eds, really. I didn’t…”
“Steve. Please shut up. I wanted you there.”
Wayne noticed when Eddie spoke, his voice was raspy from disuse. He was still tense, but he was forcing a smile for Steve’s sake.
Wayne wasn’t having that. No matter how much Steve cared about Eddie, and Eddie cared about Steve, he wasn’t about to let either of them lie about their health.
“I’ll go get the nurse.”
Steve and Eddie both turned to look at Wayne when he spoke, cheeks red with embarrassment.
“Oh, didn’t know you were here.”
Eddie was still forcing a smile, but now it was pointed at Wayne like he wouldn’t see how fake it was.
Like he didn’t know all of Eddie’s tells since he was 13 and trying to hide how scared he was about living with him.
Wayne didn’t respond, just left the room to grab Janet, who sat alone at the nurse’s station during calmer periods in the chaos.
He hurried back in while she got the doctor on staff to see that Steve was helping Eddie adjust himself a bit in bed.
“Damn bats, Jesus Christ!”
Eddie let out a loud yelp and Steve froze.
“What was that?”
“What wasn’t it at this point?”
Eddie was breathing heavily, and his heart monitor started beeping more frantically.
“Son, you need to sit still until the doctor gets in here.”
Wayne wasn’t about to watch him hurt himself more and it didn’t seem like Steve knew how to make it better or stop him on his own.
“My side hurts like this.”
“I think your side will hurt any which way you try to be.”
Steve placed a hand on Eddie’s cheek, gently turning his face so he was looking at only Steve.
“You can be still for a minute, right? For me?”
Wayne’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
“Yeah.”
Wayne’s jaw was practically on the floor.
He’d been in charge of Eddie for 7 years and had never once been able to get him to listen the first time. Not a single time.
Before he could say anything, the doctor came in, followed by a handful of nurses, including Janet.
Janet sent him a smile, but hurried over to stand next to the doctor at Eddie’s bed.
“Well, Mr. Munson. You sure are lucky.”
“I’ll feel a lot luckier when I’m not in pain.”
“Where does it hurt?”
Eddie glared at the doctor. Steve glared at Eddie.
“Mostly my side. My chest hurts a little and my left hip and leg are sore.”
“Your left side is in pretty rough shape. You’ve got about 298 stitches holding you together.” The doctor checked his pupils and his heart rate before continuing. “Go ahead and start another morphine drip, same dose as before.”
The doctor turned to Wayne.
“He’s probably going to sleep the next dose off over the next 24 hours, so you can head home. We’ll call if he wakes up earlier.”
The doctor turned to Steve, deep frown on his face.
“You, too. He needs rest.”
Steve was refusing to make eye contact with anyone at this point and Wayne was almost certain he knew why.
Steve’s father wasn’t known for being a particularly kind or loving man. One wouldn’t have to think too hard to come to the conclusion that he was harder on his son than anyone else. The doctor was speaking to him in a way that would have made Wayne’s hackles rise for Eddie, and they did for Steve too.
“I think Steve should stay.”
Wayne wasn’t going to let either of his boys go without each other if it meant they’d get some sleep.
“We do recommend that Eddie have very limited visitors.”
“If I may,” Janet spoke up. “Steve’s been here the entire time and it hasn’t affected Eddie’s sleeping. We can’t be everywhere all the time so it would be nice for someone to stay with him and come get us if he wakes up again.”
The doctor gritted his teeth together but gave a single nod before exiting the room. Most of the nurses followed behind while Janet made herself busy playing with the buttons on Eddie’s IV pole.
“Thanks Janet. What’s that doctor’s problem?” Wayne asked as he made his way to the bed.
“He came in while you were downstairs and saw the um, sleeping arrangement. He wasn’t too fond of you seeming so close.”
“We can be more careful,” Eddie mumbled, body slowly relaxing into the bed.
“Or he can just deal with it,” Janet shrugged.
She sent a wink to Steve, then turned to Wayne.
“He should be feeling a lot better now. Right Eddie?”
“This is way better than the stuff I have.”
Wayne shook his head, but couldn’t help but smile at his nephew’s antics.
“I won’t ask questions I don’t want the answer to,” Janet said as she walked out of the room. She turned to wave and then closed the door to give them all some privacy.
Wayne looked down at Eddie.
He was so pale. He’d lost so much weight in the last week, and he barely had any to give to begin with. His hair was dirty and greasy, and despite Steve and Janet giving his face and arms a wipe down, he still had dirt under his nails.
Wayne didn’t know the details of what happened. They said it was earthquake related, but he knew better. He knew if this was just an earthquake, Steve wouldn’t have stood guard by his bed for days on end.
He was just glad Eddie was alive and awake.
He placed a hand on his right shoulder.
“I’m glad to hear your voice, kiddo.”
Eddie’s eyes were glassy and his smile was much brighter than before when he responded.
“Glad you hear my voice, too. Have you met Steve? He’s my boyfriend. Or maybe not? I want him to be though. Do you think he likes me?”
Wayne looked over at a bright red Steve, then smiled down at Eddie.
“I think he likes you a lot, kid. You get some rest. Steve will still be here when you wake up, alright?”
“You too?”
“Sure.”
So Wayne stayed, and Steve stayed. Wayne watched them both as Eddie slept.
Steve didn’t fall back asleep. He looked like he needed to, but any time his eyes started to slip shut, he shook his head and widened his eyes trying to fight it.
“Steve?”
“Yes, sir?”
Wayne watched as Steve’s body curled in on itself defensively.
“None of that. You can call me Wayne.” When Steve nodded, Wayne continued. “Whoever you are to Eddie, I hope you know you’ve got me, okay? I know Eddie must like ya a whole lot for him to say any of what he did regardless of the drugs in his system. And you must like him a whole lot to not leave his side this long. But you gotta get some rest, son.”
“I take naps in the chair sometimes.”
“A nap ain’t rest. Especially not if you’ve been through war.”
“I…”
“You don’t have to tell me. I’m sure I shouldn’t know. But I been there. And I’m not lettin’ ya suffer the way I did when I came home.”
Steve’s eyes were watering and Wayne knew if he watched this boy cry, he’d be done for.
So when Steve’s first tear fell, Wayne got up and joined Steve on the other side of the bed, pulling him out of the chair and into his arms.
Steve was injured, and hadn’t had proper medical attention or pain medication, but he ignored it to fall apart in Wayne’s arms.
“That’s alright now. Let it out, son. Let it out.”
Wayne felt a tear fall down his own cheek. He couldn’t have possibly predicted this moment, but he knew he was meant to be in it.
He was meant to be here with Steve, providing something the boy needed for a long, long time.
He was meant to be someone for Steve the same way he was meant to be someone for Eddie.
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verysium · 2 months
Text
『02』 出発: departure
ft. rin itoshi, sae itoshi
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summary: a star's life is its counteraction against death, an endless deadlock against the brute force of gravity. in the constant struggle between space and time, rin cannot tell if he is being held up or held down. perhaps he has already dictated the terms of his own demise. cw: epistolary montage, mentions of blood in film, rin violently crying and throwing up, highly implied hallucinations, swearing, suicidal ideation, disillusionment and lots of hard angst. word count: 4.9k
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Two weeks after Sae took off from Haneda Airport, his words still lingered inside Rin's mind. His brother had left with a fiery flick of a grin—a gaping, white-hot maw right where his mouth should have been. It blazed then sputtered cold in his gums by the time he turned back around, but Rin still knew what he saw. The smoke never lied.
A triple tap of tongue against hard palate, the message moving fast as light. Something had flickered between Sae’s teeth. Something about split knuckles and brotherly love. Something about calling him back.
But Rin couldn’t hear over the boarding announcements, the roar of engines propelling out of the runway, the heat waves of people out in front. At half past noon, his brother had already departed from Tokyo, ten thousand miles westbound in a floating aluminum dream, reeling contrails through the sky. 
And Rin still stood on Earth, waiting. Like some dumb thing left behind.
It wasn’t until his mother laid a gentle hand on his shoulder that he finally tumbled back to reality, an empty gate at his feet, no arrival or departure calling. The afternoon sunlight had grown dim, splintering against the glass windows and whirring the blood through his ears. His chest felt strangely suspended.
It was in the backseat where it all began. Three floors down in the parking garage. Fumbling through his pockets, his coat had snagged between the door and car frame, ten digits on a crumpled paper sent fluttering to the ground. Looking back on it now, he should’ve thrown that damn thing away. But he was stupid then, drunk on a heat stroke and the beginnings of terminal grief. Right on the exit of the Shuto Expressway, he made his parents turn the car back around and drive ten miles down to the nearest World Mobile, a wretched inhale of hope stuck squirming in his chest. 
It took him several weeks before he finally decided to punch in those numbers, and then another several weeks to call after that. His body shuddered, sweat-faced and suffocating, as he trailed sticky fingers down the waiting screen. The phone rang once then twice. Then rang on forever.
Nobody ever bothered to pick up.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
2013 年 6月 17日 Nii-chan, 
It still feels like you never left. And I say this with a miserable lack of sincerity because you did in fact leave just two weeks ago. Kaa-san still makes your bed. Square corners and all. Your duvet goes in the pile with the rest of my laundry. 
Just the other day, I think I saw your shadow. I was sunbathing on the roof when I felt something brush against my back. Does Spain have big shadows too? I hope so. A country with so much sun must leave those poor shades short and stunted. Maybe they’re just a little shy. Be nice to them, will you Nii-chan? Not everyone can shine as bright as you do.
I hope you’ll make friends soon. Write to me often. I want to know everything.
2013 年 7月 7日 Nii-chan,
How are you? I didn’t receive anything in my inbox, and I checked with Kaa-san twice. She said you didn’t text me, but there is no way such a thing could have happened. Perhaps old age has finally gotten to her, or maybe something’s just wrong with this phone. Either way, I should’ve asked her to buy me a newer model.
On second thought, if you don’t text me, I will be very upset. But it will be a childish sort of anger. You wouldn’t be very proud. You will be pleased to know, however, that I have grown a total of ten centimeters this summer, and my bones are looking very strong and wide. My shots have improved too, and I scored three goals today.
Otou-san took us out to dinner for Tanabata this weekend. He told me it is about time I became a man. I smiled and said I didn’t want to disappoint. But then he said ten and three quarters is no longer a youthful sort of age, and I suddenly felt a little mad about it. I don’t want to grow up without you. 
The festival was crowded as usual. I ate every selection of wagashi then chased it down with some of the sake Otou-san lent me from his cup. Pretty sure that was illegal, so I threw it all up on the way home. But then we all went and saw the tanzaku, so I guess something went right. I wrote down a wish, but I won’t tell you. Otherwise it won’t come true. I hung it up on the highest branch though, so that someday it might reach you. 
Tell me what you think. Text back soon.
2013 年 8月 31日 Nii-chan, 
I did not receive your reply from last time. I think this phone must still be broken. Perhaps you should check on your end. Even if it’s just a greeting, I will be content. Anything from you is fine, really.
I visited the beach again. It was peaceful until the wind blew hair in my face, and I went blind for almost fifteen minutes. I tried cutting it, but Kaa-san got mad at me. After your disaster five years ago, she said she’d never let her sons hold a pair of scissors ever again. Don’t tell her, but I laughed. Inside, you know?
Sometimes I still see the waves in my sleep. The ones at Koshigoe Beach. They cradle me, and suddenly it feels like my head is floating even though my body isn’t. You’d probably think I’m crazy. But lately dreams are the only way I can reach you. 
I do watch the news though. And I train hard. Very hard. I can pass like you now, though not nearly as good as your highlights on TV. Coach says I still need to learn. You always said the same thing. But I am nearly as tall as Otou-san now and twice as strong. That must count for something, right? I hope the guys overseas will like this new me. When I finally come over there, that is.
Make sure you aren’t training too hard. I don’t want you to overstrain yourself. And if you don’t like it there, promise me you won’t force yourself to stay. You’ll pack your bags and come home early. 
Promise me. Please. 
That you’ll come home to me.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
For the second time in his life, Rin finds himself on his knees, heaving up everything that has ever made him whole. The bathroom mourns with every dry retch of his throat, and suddenly he’s laughing into the porcelain, clutching at the sides in a mad form of desperation. His ribs shudder—tough in their hurt—yet nothing of substance ever lies between them. He’d smiled out his guts a long time ago. 
Is empty space still a space or just the photonegative of presence? 
Sometimes Rin feels like his body can never truly filled, but it can never be completely emptied either. No matter how much he regurgitates, there will always be more to come. The space inside him widens until it hangs on a threadlike line of limbo: so much to give yet so much to keep. It tugs at him—a crude form of baptism—pulling him up for air and then crashing his head beneath the waves again. 
Another harsh hurl reverberates across the bathroom tiles, this time accompanied by the loud smack of spit. He’s emptied out so much his bowels might just prolapse at any second, the boy inside him turned into some sort of liquid slop, sloshing back and forth in his ribcage. It’s all over the front of his shirt now, the stomach contents soaked for hours in bodily brine, the grief his body tries to hold. No amount of bleach is going to erase the stench.
Some days Rin just wants someone to cradle him like a child does a bird, gentle and afraid to hurt. He had a dream about this once, many moons ago. After wringing himself out to dry, he had gone to work, looping the washing line around his feet until it resembled some sort of upside down noose. Once the wind picked up, he let go of the string like a pendulum, watching his body sway in third person: up and down and up and down. In this reality, he was a creature of feathers and clothespins, his body molting in the breeze. So long as he swung back and forth in this state of suspension, he would remain in the middle, not tethered down enough to live but not free enough to die either. 
He’d simply exist. 
Some nights Rin still can’t sleep. His eyes lay limp in their sockets, two dead weights sinking into bone. He tried to pry them out with his fingers, but they only pressed deeper into his face, rigid and wax-cool to the touch. No matter what he does, Rin knows he will be too late. He can never reverse this decay—the post-mortem withering of his own heart. 
Just this afternoon, he died once again, his body slumped with the hollow weight of disappointment, his spirit sinking like a fault line into earth. He had been drying his hair in the locker room after practice, the friction of the towel’s loops causing small pinpricks of static to echo along his nape. The static had carried over hushed whispers, trailing along his scalp down to his ears. God, he hadn’t meant to overhear.
“Damn it, we’re really done for this season, huh? I’m telling you it’s the striker. We could’ve won this match if it weren’t for him.”
“I mean, if Itoshi were here, he would’ve destroyed their whole team by himself.”
“You mean the older one?”
“Of course I do. Who else did you think I was referring to? The younger one’s just been blessed up until now.”
“Without his brother, he’s just an ordinary guy.”
“Oi, Haruto, shut up! What if he hears?”
“Hear what? It’s not like it isn’t the truth!”
Rin still remembers how his surname burned on their lips, the tip of the tongue caught raw between teeth, the vowels seared into flesh. Itoshi was a burden coming apart at the seams, a title for something he could never possess. They were right and it left him smarting, reeling. He hadn’t laughed a day since Sae’s departure, but in that moment he wanted to shove his whole fist up his mouth and choke for the first time in five resentful months. The laugh had been a silent one, with tears on his waterline and a smile bruised onto his face. 
Ha.....ha.....hah.....
There comes a point in every boy’s life when he simply exists. Still young but no longer impressionable. Salt in the eyes. Salt in the mouth. Take it like a man. When he hawks back the knife, it must come out breathing and clean. Living but not dead. 
His teammates had every right to blame him. 
He can’t score goals like he used to. Can’t run and bleed. Can’t love like before. There’s nothing but shame waiting for him when the realization finally breaches the bathroom air and his teammates scramble off the benches, cleats stained with guilt. They saw his reflection in the mirror, weeping right above the communal sinks.
“R-rin! W-we didn’t know you were here.”
“Y-yeah! You didn’t hear much, did you?”
Rin had never hated his name more in that moment. They uttered it like a euphemism, hand over his stupid bullet-riddled heart, the blood too runny to salvage. It only hurt him more. So he did what he knew best. He clenched his fist, the nails fisted into the meat of his palm, eyes caught on a hardened edge. It didn’t matter if Haruto was his senior. He’d beat him within an inch of his life.
“So you call me Rin now? Wasn’t I just younger Itoshi to you earlier?”
“I didn’t....We didn’t mean...”
“Then what did you mean?”
Only the scurry of shoes answered—two scuff marks against the dirty floor, Haruto’s yelp in the distance. Rin was left all alone again, his thin shadow blown wide across the whitewashed walls of the locker room. 
“Damn coward,” he wanted to yell after him. “Run! Run and tell them how it’s not your fault!” 
But he was just talking to himself.
Is empty space still a space or just a pseudonym for absence?
He hadn't been thinking at the time. Within the liminal space of the abandoned shower stalls, he lent himself a moment of weakness. He let himself cry. The shower head was cold and dirtied, and he stood there for forty-five minutes, waiting to be filled with a warmth that never came. In the end, he let his tears mix with the brackish water, staring at the evidence of his failure before it swirled down the drain. 
He realized he must have been a mistake. There was no other explanation. The real Rin Itoshi was swapped at birth and replaced with someone else. Inside the four-walled confines of the shower stall, his imposter reared its head through the mist, long baby hair drowned down to the ears. He didn’t belong. Not in this body bathed in condensation. Not in this namesake crowned in tempered glass. But by the time the water trickled down to his nose, Rin was already knee-deep in self-doubt, wading his way into misery. What more did they want from him? No one could ever replace Sae Itoshi. Not even his younger brother. 
Not even him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Six hours post-death in the locker rooms, Rin went home and passed out with his head on the toilet seat, two slick fingers shoved up his throat and his luminous guts buried somewhere down the pipe drain. Six hours later, his lids peel back scarlet, gelatinous with haze—a ringing in his ears. Some fucker is calling him again. 
He doesn’t answer. Twice. But the telemarketer is either underpaid or rudely insistent, so Rin finally picks up just to curse him out on the line. He doesn’t need any scripted intimacy. Doesn’t need other people counting his own losses. He just needs to be left alone.
At midnight, he staggers out of the bathroom, fingers absentmindedly flicking off the lightswitch before collapsing into bed. The sheets aren’t even his own. He doesn’t notice until he sniffs the pillow and stiffens. It smells god-awful. Like tiger balm and soothing menthol. Like somebody he used to know. And much to his chagrin, the images come stumbling back: knee-deep in the salted sea, shirasu swimming around his toes. What color were his eyes again? Blue ice between teeth. Sour like a bad star. Oh, what can he remember? Disappointment peeled into spirals. Happiness running down the back of his hand. The blood of an orange, sweet and dripping. He’s forever staring at someone’s back. Always a few steps behind.
Fuck you, Sae.
There’s haunting laughter coming out from the window panes, and he can hear the waves crash on shore in the distance. Two children run across sand. Muted footsteps. One soft thump then another. The vision is so close he can practically taste it. Salt in the wind, in the eyes, in his mouth. The seagulls pluck at his eyes, but he takes it like a man, breathing and clean. Living but not dead.
One of the children stands with his arms behind his back, face hidden by the shadows of the horizon. The ocean spray nips at his burgundy fringe, the hunger of a whole world engulfed in his gaze. In the distance, a younger boy shouts his name, dark hair framed by a cowlick, turquoise eyes smoothed over by water. He runs as fast as his little legs can carry him, his arms filled with bone-white shells.
“Nii-chan, wait for me!”
Sae’s face blurs before he can turn around, and Rin is left staring at the wooden slats above his childhood bed, resenting something he can no longer remember. Why did people have to go and change? Three years later and his brother had gone straight from stealing seashells to swindling stars clean out of the sky. Three years and he still had nothing to show for himself.
He imagines the look on Sae’s face when he tells him this. Conversations over Sunday dinner. The family gathered round the kotatsu, piss-yellow light slicing every dish into halves. He spoons pickled radish and chokes Sae’s teacup till it breaks. Would it be disappointment he sees on his face? His brother’s features crumpled mid-smile, blue-green eyes wounded into a porcelain state. Why? Why haven’t you done anything with your life while I was gone? 
Or perhaps it was anger. Smoke on the lips, bruised fists, and the heat of his mother’s blazing scream. Her son bares teeth and scrapes every syllable of their surname clean. Wrestles her other son’s shoulders down to the ground and shakes until the boy—the real Rin—gurgles and sloshes up inside. Do something, Rin. Do something! Or else you’ll never make it this lifetime.
Both, he could live with. But not this. The silence that burrows into his mind while he sleeps. The constant calling and the phone that just rings and rings and rings. It’s a circle, some sick sort of cycle. Every night he dreams of war—of sights and slights and stars. Things that end then don’t end then never end. He dreams until he wakes up screaming, on his hands and knees begging. Say something, will you? Anything. Fuck, why won’t you just say something?
Three years later and his brother still can't love him in a way he understands. 
But what did he expect? Sae was like that: pale and blistering, beautiful even when burning. Last dream cycle, his brother fell down three stories and erupted into flames, limbs compacted into fine dust. Should’ve screamed but didn’t. By the time Rin got down to him, Sae was already on his feet, sputtering soot from his lungs then flaring back up like nothing had ever happened. As if his hurt was merely bursts of light gathering and bunching, violence in free fall. 
And he was beautiful, Rin thinks. A boy of the blaze, man in the making, hair aorta-red, staring right back at him. By the time Sae opened his mouth, Rin’s arms were already open, ready to embrace the glittering shards. He crumpled before him as a building does a god, set alight on his brother’s palm. Strike me. He begged, blood around his mouth. Strike me anywhere and set me free. 
But that’s not what happens when you die. Not when his brother said it best.
I think I’d die and become a star. 
So he holds onto this life. Bunches it between fingers and twines it around his fist until he knows the person he’s dying for. Until he’s blacked out and dreaming in that damnable backseat again. Experiencing everything in the third person—the news, the screen, the slow-motion reels of an astral body wound up in constant replay. He can only watch as his brother slowly becomes a stranger in his own life again, and it guts him every time.
Sae Itoshi Dominates at Junior Championships, Secures Victory with Hat-Trick. Future Star? Sae Itoshi’s Sensational Performance Stuns Fans and Scouts Alike.
Who the hell is Sae Itoshi? Man, celebrity, celestial body? Not even his brother knows. But what Rin has learned over these past few years is that all stars are really just dead people, housed in a mausoleum of glittery beginnings and explosive endings. It’s binary—circling, really. A blinking eye in the sky, ticking time bomb, crying corpse, then everything wailing before its implosion. Sae could never comprehend this. The smoke-sputtering reality beyond tangible substance. This form of dying. 
But dying isn’t even the worst part of it all. It’s people like him who suffer. Unlucky stars are cursed with another, forced to revolve around each other. If one collapses, the companion gets ejected out the deep end of space and time—stumbling, groping, searching. 
Three years later and he’s still searching. 
Hey Google: Can stars still be seen from Madrid? 
The results for light pollution pop up. In a city of light, even light cannot be seen. How ironic, he thinks, that Sae is now a shining thing, flaring tendrils a million light years away. Post-nebula and he still loses himself in people who look exactly like him.
But that past has already come and gone, leaving nothing but the future behind. In the next dream cycle, Rin too will die, sputtering and choking, like a firework lit from within—violence in free fall. And when the time comes, he will leap off the fire escape, the city blocks spinning and spinning, every second a little death. The faster he falls, the more alive he’ll feel. He’ll drop all the way down until the only way he can go is up. And then he’ll ascend, floating past the skyscrapers, the streets, the sprawling metropolis. His toes curled, caught on the hook of night, the burnt flesh peeling back on bone. Floating until he disappears, his body nothing but white light.
Someday his brother will drown himself in his own artificial brightness. And Rin will follow, screaming, rearing, and set ablaze.
If you die Nii-chan, I think I’ll die along with you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
There are rare moments when seasons die a sunless death, quiet and wilting into the earth. Rin’s final birthday without Sae falls on one such month—a red September during which nature bleeds, the autumn leaves rusting around Engakuji Temple. He’s taken up long walks during that time, pacing for hours around the park nearby. Something about taking his mind off things. Something about counting his own losses.
By late afternoon, his hands are shoved fist-deep into his coat pockets, on track to finish his ninth lap around the perimeter. The daylight has long pooled down his back, tiny dollops of brightness slow-dripping and honeyed, settling into the hollow divots of his spine. The mise-en-scène frames him in a languorous ochre—the kind of lighting reserved solely for an aged romance. And the wind plays his lover, its post-meridian breath tender as it brushes against his cheek. It’s all a range of motions from there. He takes another step, adjusts a stray earbud, then tugs his scarf all the way up to his nose. Ten laps now, and he still walks. The only time he ever stops is when he stalls mid-way to check his phone. 
Zero messages received. Message not delivered.
His thumb hovers briefly over the send button. The cursor at the end blinks with an almost human hesitancy before it opens its mouth, swallowing everything back up. The screen clears itself again, reduced to nothing but absence: a small square of light where silence reigns. Rin sighs before trudging home, a thousand words lodged into the back of his throat.
Nii-chan, I miss you. 
The kitchen is empty by the time he slides open the shoji, removing his shoes with practiced ease before padding across the soft tatami. His mother’s gone on an errand for groceries, her hastily scrawled note tucked under his door with a bowl of persimmons. The house is empty, the joss sticks still smoking in the living room, tips warm and powder-soft. He grows heady on their incense, locking himself away in his bedroom and drawing the curtains. His old Fujitsu laptop whirrs to life, propped up against two pillows and an oversized owl plush. This time he puts on a splatter film, splayed on his stomach as he reels through the opening credits.
He can watch without the subtitles now, even converse with tourists at the station in Enoden. He recalls his teammates’ faces last Saturday—breaths held tender, jaws slackened with faux horror—when he gave out directions in perfect English. Sae would’ve been proud, if only he knew how much it meant. But lately, there hasn’t been a single interruption to Rin’s nights alone, despite how desperately he longs for one. The most his English is good for nowadays is translating the kooky foreign films he puts on rotation, ninety minutes of runtime for thirty-one evenings.
He must have gone through a dozen franchises by now: Halloween specials, 90’s vintage, slashers, the paranormal. The American flicks still remain his favorite, mostly because of the chainsaws. Something about the suspense of disembodiment scratches an itch inside his brain. Like the adrenaline before a final goal, moments before he implodes—naked body slathered in pools of primary color.
In the darkness, the films weave together: a tidal wave of light that washes down his bedroom walls. The victim shrieks before she is bathed in an eerie swathe of red, pierced at the helm of a bloodshot lens. Something about her death is both alien and terrifying, and Rin feels himself come alive again. 
At climax, the light from his laptop is nothing short of searing, carving-knife intensity digging slowly into thin, rousing bodies. He can only watch as the killer sharpens his blade, each stroke a day-bright epiphany, cutting little wounds into the night. His figure is lit up from behind, illuminated in such a way that Rin can see his organs and count every one of his ribs. The scene peels back like water, reflecting montage after montage on the glass display case next to his closet. The trophies electrify themselves in the shadows, each silhouette splayed neatly on the shelf and serrated round the rim. The metal handles distort the characters’ faces in two-frame slashes, decapitating nose from ear, eye from mouth. Another scream rips through the background as Rin digs graves into his palm. This time the murderer chases a mother down the stairs, gleeful when her child fails to keep up. 
He’s seen this scene play out before—three years and eleven months ago, when he first got himself killed. It’s the final match against Tokyo Metropolitan Youth, and he’s running on fumes, ten minutes into additional time. There’s only a few more meters to the goal area, the footsteps fast approaching from his left. He has to make an escape. The opponent closes in behind him, knife in hand, and all he can do is run, body barreling straight toward the camera. 
The impact hits him right before the shot, his leg flaring out in some desperate attempt at a goal. The ball soars as he stumbles forward—violence in free fall, the boy inside him lit from within. In the final moments before he combusts, time stretches itself thin over his bones, smoking and exorcized from the fire. The shadow of his killer looms behind him, arm raised with the promise of metal and memory, the blade gleaming in sparse light. 
Got you.
The child on screen turns around, facial features contorted in dramatic horror. Rin can hear her scream before the lips even part. He can already predict this ending. He can predict the next one after this too. Plight of the final girl: last to die but forever immortalized in her own grief and helplessness.
In six months, he will be named the most valuable player for Kamakura United Youth. In another six, he will be hollowed from the inside out, cursed to feel only the loss inside every win. This motion picture has rewound itself one too many times, the credits rolling and taking him along with them. End scene and he’s standing there in a pool of his own triumph—the grass strewn with painted carcasses—a thousand boys dead at his feet. His knees make hard contact with the earth, nothing but penitence in his eyes. This is all he knows: love and its smoking aftermath, the weight of it iron-hot on his tongue. Victory has never tasted so bitter. 
But it always ends the same. For the final girl, the film star, everyone crucified by the crowd. All good auteurs come from a long line of men who have already run out of time, color pooling past their waists, crashing in over their heads. They don’t want to die, so they preserve their souls into billboards, spool strands of silence into substance. They only shoot what is in their blood: the sensational guts, glory, and gore. Because what better way to keep your memory alive than burn it onto the emulsion side of thirty-five millimeter filmstrip?
The red lights have begun to feel suffocating—the last of his breath now a belt around his neck—as the cameras pan down to a mutilated body. Rin secretly envies the child’s soaked shirtsleeves, the ground beneath her perfused in violent color. If only he could be filled with something that beautiful. But instead he was given the body of a pale child filled with longing, constantly waiting for a change and constantly wishing for something to flow out of him. 
Eventually the clock strikes twelve and Rin closes his laptop, the backs of his eyelids whited out, brain overstimulated from the psychedelic screams. His brother’s portrait blurs in his peripheral vision, overexposed from the red glow, staring up at him from the cluttered nightstand. And in the moment, he briefly wonders if Sae left Japan in search of a new image. Perhaps Spain was just ninety minutes of solid technicolor screen where people could scream without horror, where the protagonist could freely bleed. And in the end, there was no death. The audience remains seated in theaters, their memories replaying over and over, bodies forever housed in cinema.
At the director’s cut, Rin’s consciousness falls under, hand still clutching the frame. End scene and Sae’s blown-out face smiles just a little into the darkness.
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