#A/N: whats this? nonsense? on my blog? more likely than you think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fxstpace · 2 months ago

Text

oh, snap!

summary: you and jake sim might have been best friends once upon a time, but not anymore. now, you barely talk to each other—so you decide to prove the universe wrong when you find out that he’s your soulmate, because there’s no way both of you are compatible.

⇢ pairing: jake sim x fem!reader ⇢ genres: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers au, soulmate au, college au ⇢ word count: 7.0k ⇢ warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual jokes, soulmate lore i made up ⇢ a/n: this is a fic i had posted on my now deactivated blog, which i’ve made minor modifications to. thanks for reading!

The universe has to be fucking with you.

You aren’t one to believe in manifestation or the law of attraction or whatever other nonsense your TikTok feed provides you with. You think it’s a total waste of time, energy, and resources.

Right now, however, you’re manifesting with all your might—eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clasped in front of your chest, only one thought running through your head: Please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be—

You open one eye cautiously. You lift up the pinkie finger of your right hand equally carefully.

Fuck.

You drop your hands and let your head fall onto the desk in front of you. A dull thud echoes around you, and normally, you would be apologetic since you’re at the library, but because you’re wallowing in self-pity you can’t bring yourself to care. A frown mars your forehead. Maybe you’re manifesting wrong. Is that even a thing? Perhaps you should ask your friend Yizhou how to do it; she’s pretty popular on Instagram so surely she’d have some idea. Maybe one of her fellow influencer friends is a manifester. (Is that what they call it?)

You lift your head up and stare morosely at the red thread twined around your little finger. It winds down the floor, swirling and looping in gentle curves. You glare at the person it’s connected to.

Jake Sim, that little piece of shit.

The object of your disdain is seated one table away from yours. He’s hunched over his laptop, occasionally scribbling something into the messy notebook in front of him. His glasses keep slipping down the bridge of his nose, and every time he pushes them back up, you feel a tug on your finger.

This brings you to the following question: Does he not know you’re his soulmate?

You have three answers. One: He knows, but he doesn’t care. Two: He doesn’t know. Three: He doesn’t care.

The second option is rare but not unheard of. There have been several cases where people vehemently deny the existence of soulmates and refuse to believe in it. Such people never get to see the red thread that is wrapped around their finger, even though it exists. Truthfully, you feel bad for the people on the other side of the thread—the non-believer’s alleged soulmate. They will forever watch from afar, never going too close, but never straying away either. It sounds lonely, more than anything else.

You push that thought away. If Jake doesn’t know, it should be a good thing, right? You don’t need a soulmate to survive. You can just continue with your life as it is—attending classes, hanging out with your friends… Yeah, you’re happy with everything you have.

Another tug at your pinkie forces out an annoyed huff from your mouth. You glare at the perpetrator, still engrossed in his work. To be fair, you didn’t know Jake was your soulmate until very recently either. You knew the thread existed but didn’t know who it was connected to. When you were younger, you and your friends would have tons of fun pulling at the thread to annoy your unknown soulmate. Getting a pull back was a source of glee for seven-year-old you. Now, it just fills you with dread.

“Oi.” Someone’s breath tickles your ear.

“Fucking hell!”

You swat at your best friend’s face, successfully smacking his cheek. Taehyun grunts in pain. “Uncalled for.”

“What the fuck, Taehyun?” You grouse. “Don’t scare me like that. Sorry ‘bout your cheek.”

The boy rolls his eyes, sitting down on the chair next to you and dumping his tote bag on the table. “I’d feel better if you actually meant your apology. Also, why aren’t you studying? Our midterms start in a week and staring at Lover Boy isn’t gonna help you pass your classes.”

“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “And I was… studying.”

“Right. That’s exactly why none of your books are open.”

“Shut up, people are staring.”

Taehyun raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. You’re not wrong—people are staring. Well, specifically, one person. You flex your little finger a little, straightening it out and then bending it again. If Jake feels any sort of yank, he doesn’t show it. Not that you’re interested, of course. You’re just… observing. So is he, clearly. He peers over his glasses at you both, his expression not betraying anything.

You flinch when Taehyun pinches your side. Turning back to him, you’re ready to yell at him for being an annoying asshole, when he fixes you with a pitying sort of look. You swallow.

“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t overthink, okay? He’s alone right now, you might as well talk to him about this.”

You blink uneasily, eyes flitting between your friend and the unopened book in front of you.

“How long are you gonna avoid him? You’ve been hiding this for months. And… he has a right to know,” Taehyun finishes, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.

You swallow again, around the lump in your throat that’s been sitting there for months. You found out that Jake was your soulmate months ago. Yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to confront him or tell him about it. A far cry from the whole entire concept of soulmates—isn’t he supposed to be your missing puzzle piece? Certainly not, if you’re too nervous to even approach him. The universe must have made a mistake. Whatever higher being exists must have assigned you to the wrong person.

Taehyun is right, though. (You’re not going to admit it to him, of course; there’s no need to boost his already inflated ego.)

Jake Sim does have a right to know that he’s your soulmate.

You shift uncomfortably. Taehyun drops his gaze with a sigh. “I know you two have a history but can’t you just sort this out?”

“I… can’t,” you say lamely.

Your best friend looks sadly at you. You look away, fidgeting with the cover of your textbook. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a girl make her way to Jake’s table. He perks up immediately, greeting her with a soft smile. She sits down next to him and grabs Jake’s laptop, angling it towards her like it’s second nature. It probably is, you think bitterly.

Another reason why you can’t tell Jake Sim about this whole Situation: He has a girlfriend.

Park Chaerin meets your eyes and waves at you cheerfully. You wave back, feeling sick to your stomach.

You press the tip of your pen into your notebook, fighting the urge to close your eyes. Even the half-empty cup of coffee next to your laptop has done little to wake you up. Morning classes are the bane of your existence, and as a night owl, you vehemently dislike getting up early. Your professor rattles on about an assignment due in a week. You stifle another yawn behind your hand.

Feeling a yank on your little finger, you press the palm of your hand on the desk and ignore it. Jake Sim is sitting right next to you—courtesy of both of you having arrived five minutes late, and the only seats left were in the last row. Your Friday 8 AM lecture on the Quantum Theory of Electromagnetism is normally interesting, but Professor Jang makes even the most stimulating topics seem dry. You usually end up resorting to self-study sessions in order to understand everything.

Jake is scribbling something next to you. He’s probably doodling. He used to do that a lot when he was little, too. You recall pages upon pages of maths notes interspersed with tiny drawings of dinosaurs and dragons in the margins. They had made you laugh at the time.

“Hey,” he whispers.

You blink.

“Hi,” you say.

Jake grins at you—and you’re dazzled, for a moment. It’s been so long since you’ve had that smile of his being directed at you. You’ve seen him smile at other people on campus—his new friends, his girlfriend, acquaintances—all from afar, and you push down the bitter sting of rejection that pricks you every time. After so many months, it feels like you were in a pitch-black room all this time, and someone suddenly turned on the lights. It’s blinding.

Your former friend caps his pen and leans back in his chair. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“Um, yeah,” you answer. Just to be polite, you add, “...Did you?”

“Kind of.” Jake winces.

“Oh.”

“I was trying to understand the topic before this. Y’know—” he meets your eyes expectantly— “the whole Kronig-Penney model and the Bloch function and all that. I spent, like, two hours on them,” he says sheepishly.

“Oh, uh, yeah, those are kinda difficult,” you offer.

You’re still perplexed by this whole situation. Admittedly, after weeks of minimal contact with your childhood best friend, this isn’t how you imagined your reunion would go. All awkwardness aside, however, it feels… nice, talking to him again. It’s hard to move past the last few months, but there’s nothing wrong with this, right? You can think of it as two classmates bonding over a hard course they willingly chose. Two classmates who’ve known each other since they were toddlers just learning to walk, but you deliberately don’t think of that.

Jake hums. “The graphs get super confusing.”

“I guess,” you say.

He leans forward abruptly, elbows knocking on the edge of the desk. His stare on you is intent, focused. “Is your number still the same?”

You gape at him, mouth open like a blown-out fish. “Uh… yeah. Why?”

“So I can text you if I don’t understand anything,” Jake says simply, easily, still sporting that same easygoing smile of his. Your stomach twists into knots, and you force yourself to appear calm and not like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I think you should’ve asked me first,” you manage to say.

He looks at you strangely, a dip in his eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”

Why, indeed.

Jake has known you for years; this is an undeniable fact. Even now, he probably knows you better than anyone else does—or ever could. So there’s absolutely no way he can’t make sense of the stifling awkwardness that surrounds you both.

However, the same holds true for you: You know Jake Sim just as well as he knows you. You know he’s trying to bridge a gap, make amends in a way only he does. You would be a fool if you didn’t take it in stride.

You crack a small smile. “Fair enough.”

He picks up his pen and twirls it between his fingers idly, before saying, “I’ll text you about other stuff, too.”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

Jake is all smiles and sunshine. He starts doodling again—what looks like a misshapen traffic cone of some sort. You look away, and tuck this little slice of goldenness into your rapidly rabbiting heart.

This is not good. You pay no heed to the thread around your little finger, and pick up your own pen. Angling your notebook away from your deskmate, you begin to write.

REASONS WHY JAKE SIM CANNOT BE MY SOULMATE FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT

#1. he doesn’t know you as well as he should (okay, maybe he does)

You have no clue how you ended up studying with Jake Sim and Park Chaerin, of all people.

Your own friends, Kang Taehyun and Kim Gaeul are utterly nonplussed at this new situation. You give them a helpless shrug when they elbow each other and raise their eyebrows at you. The library is fairly empty at this hour, which makes it an ideal time to study without the distractions of other people. Of course, you didn’t consider the two people who’ve decided you’re a physics expert and require your guidance.

You humour them because you’re a nice person—not because you’re weak to Jake’s entreaties and his offer of buying you food for a whole week.

Chaerin smiles at your friends. “Hey, guys! Come join us.”

Taehyun is the first to blink out of his confusion. He moves forward, pulling out the chair opposite yours and settling down. “Thanks. We won’t bother you guys much.”

Gaeul nods her head. “Yeah, I have a bunch of assignments to finish.” She chuckles nervously, smoothing out her hair.

“No problem,” Jake supplies. “Your friend is super smart.”

Taehyun raises his eyebrows, pointing an incredulous finger at you. “You mean…?”

“Hey!” You swing your leg and kick Taehyun’s shin from under the table. He winces in pain. Gaeul giggles, and so does Chaerin. Jake lets out an amused snort.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you say, “this bit isn’t that important from a test point of view, so just go over it to get the general idea.” You mark the paragraph you were referring to with a pencil.

Chaerin and Jake nod in tandem, like a pair of bobbleheads. You bite your lip to stifle your smile—they’re so perfect together, it’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jake’s end of the string was connected to Chaerin’s instead. Is that even possible? You’ll have to google it up.

The thought puts a significant damper on your mood, and you turn away, drawing back from the pair sitting next to you.

Instead, you lock eyes with Taehyun, who’s glaring at you with enough intensity to drill a hole through your forehead. Talk to him, he mouths. You give him a small shake of your head.

You can’t talk to him about anything serious. Explaining physics to him and his girlfriend in the presence of your own best friends is a sort of safe zone; you don’t have to discuss anything personal whatsoever. All you have to do is prattle off a list of formulae and derivations and graphs, and hope that what you’re telling them to study is actually going to be asked on your midterm next week.

Taehyun rolls his eyes so hard, you wonder how they haven’t popped out of their sockets. He’s exasperated, you can tell—and Gaeul has probably been receiving the brunt of it all, because he would never outrightly say he’s upset with you. He would rant to Gaeul instead, trusting that she would tell you everything he told her but more nicely. That’s how your little trio circles back to each other.

You shift uncomfortably. Gaeul catches your eye and gives you a small, sympathetic smile. Your lips twitch upwards slightly.

“Wow,” Chaerin says, “I can’t believe we finished a whole unit in, like, one and a half hours.” She directs the next part to you. “You’re really smart. Don’t listen to Taehyun.”

“Y/N doesn’t listen to me anyway,” your friend grumbles. Gaeul hides her snort behind her styrofoam cup of coffee.

Speaking of which, you could really use some caffeine too. Anything to get away from Jake Sim and his quiet, knowing… aura, is the word you settle for. He wasn’t always this quiet—he used to be loud and raucous when it was just the two of you in high school—so while this new development isn’t surprising, it certainly is jarring.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” you announce to the table at large. “Anyone wanna come with?”

“I’ll come,” Jake says immediately. “I owe you for teaching us.”

“Oh, um.” You attempt to smile. “I—”

“Please go,” Taehyun says suddenly, his tone beseeching. “I need coffee too but I don’t trust Y/N to not put salt in mine or something.”

You gape at him, betrayal flooding your features. Gaeul snorts again. Chaerin just looks at you and Jake alternately. Jake’s lips twitch upwards. “Y/N still does that?”

You whirl around to face him. “What?”

“Oh, this is getting interesting,” Gaeul pipes up. “Do elaborate.”

“I second that,” Chaerin adds.

You feel your cheeks and the back of your neck heat up. You want to implore your former best friend to keep his pretty mouth shut, but your ego doesn’t let you grovel in front of three other people. Jake raises his eyebrows, lips parting to form a small ‘o’. He smiles, a little bit sheepish. Before he can say anything, you intervene.

“That was one time, Taehyun!” you snap. “And it was by accident. Why would I willingly put salt in your coffee?”

Taehyun raises an eyebrow at you, but inside, you know he’s laughing uncontrollably at your predicament. “Who knows? You might wanna poison me for being cooler than you.”

“What is this, high school? And why the fuck would I want a murder on my hands? I’m too young to go to jail.”

Chaerin tries to muffle her giggles with her hand. Both you and Taehyun turn simultaneously to look at her. “Sorry.” She giggles again. “You two talk like an old married couple.”

“Gross,” you say, at the same time Taehyun draws out an, “Ew,” and extends the last syllable like a child in kindergarten.

“Oh my God,” Gaeul says. “Chaerin, you’re a genius. I see it too.”

“Not you too,” Taehyun groans.

The two begin bickering again, and Chaerin joins them with enthusiasm, adding her own little tidbits of support for Gaeul in between the conversation. During all this, Jake remains remarkably quiet, an amused smile tugging on his lips.

You turn to him, a rush of sudden embarrassment making your cheeks heat up. It occurs to you that he’s never seen you like this—laughing and joking around with your friends. Friends that don’t include him. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Let’s go get coffee.”

“Okay.”

You and Jake push your chairs back under the table and exit the library. The coffee shop is two storeys down, so you make a beeline for the staircase. Your former best friend follows you, his undone shoelaces slapping on the tiles. He still doesn’t tie his shoelaces properly, then. Perhaps he hasn’t changed as much as you thought.

“Hey, by the way,” he says, “I was gonna tell Taehyun about the time I put salt in your coffee.”

“...I know.” Your answer is short, clipped. You force your shoulders to relax—there’s no need to tense up when Jake Sim is around.

“Oh. Uh, okay then.”

You don’t look at him, but you’re fairly certain he’s doing that thing he always does when he’s feeling awkward: A little rub of his thumb against the corner of his mouth. It’s a tic he’s always had, from the time you were in elementary school, and it isn’t any different now.

A stifling silence falls upon you both. You almost wish Taehyun and Gaeul were here, bringing Chaerin with them in tow. The three of them seemed to get along well; the chances of the five of you hanging out outside of college are high, now.

Of course, that also means you and Jake will have to pretend like everything’s alright between you both, and that your decades-long friendship wasn’t shattered by one single argument.

You round the corner to the staircase and begin the descent downwards. Jake holds onto the railing on the other side. Despite everything, you think Jake is the braver one between you two.

He breaks the silence as easily as he broke your heart, and asks:

“Do you still take your macchiato with two packets of sugar?”

“Yeah,” you say softly.

#2. he wants to be friends again (why?)

You blame Kang Taehyun for this.

Of course he had to forget to pick up the pizza from the local restaurant before coming back to his place. Of course he didn’t check the weather forecast beforehand, and even if he did, of course he didn’t tell you it was going to rain. Of fucking course he asks you to pick up the food for him because your classes only ended at 4 and the get-together to celebrate the end of midterms was at 4:30.

If you had the power, you would curse your best friend to oblivion. You grip your phone in your hand, gritting your teeth and staring down at the screen.

Group Chat: the holy trinity of dumbasses 🤡 [16:12] You: it’s fukcing pouring here and i didnt bring my car [16:12] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): *Fucking [16:13] You: yeah it’s something you’ve never done before [16:13] You: i have the pizza [16:13] You: come and pick me up or im throwing it in the dustbin. [16:14] gaeul 🤍: u shouldn’t waste food y/n >:( [16:14] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): You’re making Gaeul cry >:( [16:14] gaeul 🤍: girl what [16:15] You: aw cute [16:15] You: seriously tho [16:16] You: come pick me up [16:17] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): OK, I’m on my way [16:17] You: FUCKING FINALLY

The plastic bag with all the pizza boxes dangles off your wrist, cutting into your skin. The steps that lead to the inside of the restaurant are slick with rainwater. You open Instagram and scroll through your feed mindlessly, clicking on your classmates’ stories.

You shiver. Rainy weather always makes the temperature drop by several degrees, and your flimsy jacket isn’t enough to drive away the chill. Forget Taehyun, maybe you should’ve checked the forecast instead. Sometimes (read: most of the time) you can be just as stupid as him. You wonder how Gaeul puts up with the single brain cell you and Taehyun toss between each other like a hot potato.

Honestly, you just want to go somewhere where it’s dry and warm.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and it takes you a whole minute to comprehend the name that shows up on the caller ID.

Jake Sim.

Why is Jake Sim calling you?

You chew on your lip nervously before swiping your thumb up and accepting his call. Bringing your phone to your ear, you let the plastic bag sway gently. The line is silent for a few seconds, as though neither of you can comprehend the fact that you’re on a call with each other. It makes sense; this is the first time in months he’s calling you.

Finally, Jake’s voice crackles over the speaker. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m outside. Can you see me?”

“I, uh.” You look around quickly. The parking lot in front of you is mostly empty, a good chunk of people having escaped the rain. It’s not hard to make out the solitary figure standing outside a beaten-down Toyota, holding an umbrella aloft. “Yeah, I see you.”

“Oh, good,” he says. “Do you have an umbrella?”

“Nope. Just… pizza.”

Jake makes a noise that sounds like a warbled chuckle. “Okay, I’m coming over there.”

“...Okay.”

For some strange reason, you don’t feel like ending the call. You fumble for something to say, because it’s weird just being on a call with someone you can literally see. The tug on your little finger as he comes closer to you makes a lump form in your throat. You take a deep breath and push it down into your stomach.

“You haven’t changed your car,” you say lightly.

Jake hums, the sound so familiar it doesn’t even surprise you until you register it. “Can’t afford a new one. Plus, it works decently.”

He strides over to you, and it’s unnecessarily sexy—the way he holds the black umbrella up with one hand and his phone to his ear with the other. You can see the speckles of rain on his grey hoodie where the raindrops bounce off the ends of the umbrella. His hair is swept to the side, lips pink with chapstick. Another yank on your pinkie finger; you clench your fist.

“Please,” you snort. “The last time I was in it, it took twenty minutes to start the engine. That was a year ago, Jake.”

He’s closer now, nearing the steps. His eyes don’t leave yours. They trace over all your features, as though he’s committing you to memory—you, with your tangled hair and tired eye bags, chapped lips and dirty sneakers. You swallow.

He puts his phone down and speaks to you directly. “I think that was the driver’s fault. But don’t worry, I can drive better now.”

You let your hand drop limply to your side.

“Hi,” Jake says.

“Hi again,” you manage to say.

“Here, let me take that.” He reaches out for the pizza bag, but you don’t give it to him.

“It’s fine. Just… hold up the umbrella and don’t get us wet.”

Jake laughs, a short, bright sound. “I won’t.”

You step towards him, quickly slipping underneath the shelter of the umbrella above your head. It’s a tight fit—one of your shoulders pokes out, as does one of his. You grimace when your sleeve gets splattered with rain.

Jake leads the way to his ancient car, scratched and scuffed with years of use. It was his dad’s old one, a gift for him on his seventeenth birthday, one that his mom had told you about to surprise him with. It seems like a bygone history now.

“I thought Taehyun was gonna come,” you comment.

Jake looks at you strangely. “I thought you asked for me to come pick you up.”

“I… did?” You gasp at the realisation. Kang Taehyun, that fucker. “I’m sorry,” you say awkwardly. “Taehyun probably told you that I was stuck in the rain.”

“He did,” Jake confirms. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s not a problem at all.”

“Oh… okay, then.” Still, you feel guilty. Jake came all the way in the rain just because your best friend couldn’t stop being a meddling little nincompoop.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” Jake continues. His voice sounds deliberately casual. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“...Yeah. I guess.”

Jake stops near his car, fishing around in his pocket for the keys. “Look, I—I know things haven’t been the same lately, but I—” he licks his lips, another nervous tic of his— “I want you to know that I never stopped thinking of you as my best friend. Okay?”

You blink, sucking in a breath sharply. “I, um, yeah. Yeah, okay,” you say lamely.

Jake nods once, not meeting your eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve found friends like Gaeul and Taehyun. They’re good people.”

“So is Chaerin,” you say. “And so is Sunghoon.”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling faintly, unlocking the door. “And so are you.”

Sometimes, you wonder if Jake also feels a pull on his little finger. If he does, does he ever wonder where it’s from? Or does he not feel it at all? You bend your finger and shuffle into the passenger side of his car. He closes the door for you before crossing over to the other side and climbing into the driver’s seat.

Whatever the case is, one thing is for sure: Jake Sim is your soulmate, and even if he wasn’t, you’d still be in love with him.

Just like you were one year ago.

#3. his parents adore you (and so do you, but there’s always the yearning and the aching)

“Hey, mom and dad are asking when you’re gonna visit again.”

Jake swings into your periphery, putting his phone back in his pocket. His mom had called about fifteen minutes ago to make plans for Jake to go home over the weekend. Potentially, you could also go—your childhood home is right next to his. It’s been a while since you last visited; your little sister sends you texts about how much she misses you.

He sits down on the chair next to yours, looking at you expectantly. You’re at your favourite spot in the library, one that’s been designated as you and your friends’ table. Jake and Chaerin have been officially integrated into your tiny trio; Gaeul and Chaerin get along really well, and Taehyun and Jake follow the same sports teams. Occasionally, their other friend, Park Sunghoon, joins you but he’s very quiet and mostly keeps to himself.

You don’t look up from your laptop screen when you answer, “I’m not sure.”

“Huh. Mom says you’ve said that to your mom every time she asks.”

Things between you and Jake have reached a semblance of normalcy, too. It’s not the same as it used to be—it can never be the same as it used to be—but at least the pang you feel in your chest whenever he talks to you has dulled somewhat.

“I’ve been busy,” you say vaguely.

“Oh, c’mon,” Jake retorts. “Our midterms were over a week ago. What’re you waiting for?”

You don’t reply. He waits for a moment before saying, “I could drive you.”

That gets your full attention. Your gaze snaps to him, mouth pressed together.

“I mean, we literally live right next to each other, Y/N,” he continues. “It’ll save gas. And the environment.”

You snort. “Your car is more of a hazard to the environment than us not carpooling is.”

“You don’t know how to drive,” he deadpans.

“That’s not true! I can drive, I just choose not to. Saving the environment and all.” You point an accusing finger at him. “If you really care about the environment, you should take the bus home with me.”

Jake shrugs loosely. “I don’t care how we go home, as long as you come with me. I’m sure your sister misses you too.”

There it is again: That easy, light way he says things. Nonchalant and unaffected—though it affects you more than it should.

“You’ll pay for the tickets?”

Jake’s grin is golden. “If that’s what it takes.”

That’s how you find yourself crammed in between Jake Sim and an old auntie with a flower-patterned bandana, on the bus back to your hometown three days later. The auntie gives you and Jake a few cookies she’d packed for her grandchildren, and then promptly falls asleep on your shoulder (Jake couldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes when he saw the line of drool she’d left on your shirt sleeve). He offers you his own shoulder in case you want to sleep too; your cheeks heat up at the thought. It’s a bumpy ride, but after stopping at the bus stop nearest to your house, Flower Auntie sends you off with a few more cookies and a box of homemade kimchi, and you and Jake begin walking back to your neighbourhood.

Some things have changed—the playground is being renovated, your old elementary school is being repainted, the Kims who owned the local ramen shop retired and set the place up for rent. But at its heart, it’s all the same, you think. Kids still run around holding warm bungeoppang from street stalls and cartons of strawberry milk from the convenience store. Their mothers sit around and gossip about celebrities and complain about their husbands. People working corporate jobs curse under their breaths about their bosses and their unforgiving schedules. It’s late in the evening when you arrive, a bag containing all of Flower Auntie’s goodies hanging off Jake’s arm. All the local eateries are opening up for the dinner rush, drawing people in with the offer of free beer and soju for every meal purchased.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jake says, a fond smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” you agree softly.

Despite everything, it’s still home.

The two of you cross the streets to your houses, sneakers slapping against the pavement. Several neighbours who’ve seen you both grow up call out and wave hello. You’re stopped by Mrs. Lee’s son, Heeseung, who makes you both promise to go out for dinner with him tomorrow.

Finally, you stand in front of your childhood home. The rusted door and peeling-off paint greets you like a best friend. You shoulder your backpack and ring the doorbell, saying goodbye to Jake as he walks into his own house.

The door swings open—only to reveal Mrs. Sim standing at your doorway. Before you can voice your confusion, she pulls you into a tight hug, mumbling your name into your hair.

“Welcome home,” she says, moving aside and letting you in. “Your mother is in the kitchen. She’s just started making dinner.”

“Oh, okay.” You grin. “It’s great to see you, Mrs. Sim.”

“I swear you love Y/N more than me.”

You turn around and see Jake standing by the door, an affectionate look in his eyes. You direct your grin at him, too.

“Suck it up, loser.”

Jake’s guffaw rings in your ears even when your sister screams with unabashed joy as soon as she sees you.

#4. he broke your heart once (he could do it again)

You stare at the red thread wrapped around your finger. It’s dulled a bit now, compared to how it was a few years ago. Some of its shine is lost; it looks more opaque now. You crook your finger experimentally, knowing it's futile but still holding on to some hope that maybe Jake will feel it too.

To live for the hope of it all, as a wise song-writer once penned.

You startle when Jake sets a mug of coffee in front of you. His house is empty—your mother and Mrs. Sim went to buy groceries together and his father is out of the city on a business trip. Your sister is hanging out with her friends but told you to call her if you needed anything.

“Here you go,” Jake says, sitting down on the chair next to you. “Have some and then we can go buy some hangover soup.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, curling your fingers around the mug and savouring its warmth. The liquid inside is not too bitter, but not too sweet either—just how you like it.

“Feeling any better?”

You wince. Going out for dinner with Heeseung meant drinks were also attached. Being back in your hometown after weeks meant you had to check out all your favourite restaurants again and visit the ones that popped up after you left for college. The result: You swallowed down entirely too much soju, Heeseung and Jake had to physically carry you home, your head is killing you right now, and your embarrassment is at its peak.

When you woke up in the early afternoon to texts from your family members detailing their various absences, you reluctantly made your way out of your bedroom and to the Sims’ place.

Which brings you here, perched on a chair at the Sims’ dining table, fiddling with your red string of fate, while the object of your thoughts sits right next to you.

“Yeah, a little,” you murmur in response to his question.

“Good.” Jake stretches his arms above his head, exposing a sliver of his midriff. You swallow. “Your alcohol tolerance is still the same.”

“Yours isn’t any better,” you counter. “You didn’t drink more than one bottle of soju.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were counting?”

You huff, ignoring the warmth that spreads to your cheeks. “That’s not the point.”

“I’m just joking,” he says, bringing his hands back down. “I was kinda surprised Heeseung has a girlfriend now.”

You hum, taking another sip of your drink. Your head still pounds, but the caffeine is kicking in and making you more lively. It is strange, though, seeing your childhood friend settle down. Judging by the way he talks about her, he’s completely smitten. She’s my soulmate, he had said, and I don’t even believe in my thread.

The memory makes hurt bubble up inside your throat, so you chug the remaining liquid in the mug.

“It’s nice, though,” Jake continues, something… wistful crossing his face. “I wish I had someone like that.”

You look away, staring down at the ring of coffee left on the wooden table from your mug. “Yeah, I guess… Aren’t you dating Chaerin, though?”

You bite the bullet—what’s the point, anyway? There’s no use in dragging it out. Not when he clearly doesn’t know that his soulmate is sitting right next to him. You can deal with the hurt that comes with rejection later.

Jake stills. You glance at him—he tilts his head confusedly. “Chaerin? No… What makes you think that?”

“Everyone said you guys were dating,” you say with a small, uncertain shrug.

“I mean…” He blinks. “We hooked up once, but that’s really it.”

It’s your turn to blink now, bemused. “Huh?”

“Yeah, we were drunk and it just sorta happened? I dunno,” he says sheepishly. “We didn’t remember any of it later, so we just agreed to remain friends. Plus, her soulmate is Sunghoon.”

“Wait, what?” Your teeth worry your bottom lip. Your mind is swirling with questions—was it possible that you had misread Jake Sim all this time?

“Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s no big deal.”

“...Oh. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed things,” you apologise quietly. Despite all this, his words make a swell of optimism rise in your chest.

He shrugs. “I, uh, wouldn’t blame you. We didn’t talk much after… after everything.”

“Yeah.” Your admission is soft, regret burning a hole in your tongue.

“So, um…” Jake trails off, looking unsure of himself. That’s a first, you realise with a start. He’s usually so calm and collected, even in the worst times. “Do you still feel the same as you did a year ago?”

You suck in a breath. “Why—why would you ask me something like that?”

“I—just curious.”

His eyes land on yours, beseeching and glorious. Even when he’s just woken up, he looks like he’s been dipped in the sun’s golden rays. Your heart hammers inside your chest.

“Wait, can I ask you something else? Why… did you reject me that night?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re transported back to that fateful evening in July.

You stuttered the words out, and explained that you were in love with him, that you were pretty sure he was your soulmate, regardless of who your string was actually connected to. With every new sentence you tacked on, the emotion on Jake’s face vanished. Towards the end, you felt your face crumble.

He left you alone on the pavement, broken-hearted and lovesick.

Jake clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off so harsh on you that day.”

“I don’t care about that, Jake,” you say simply. “I just want to know why.”

“Because I was stupid. I didn’t believe in the soulmate bullshit, but I know you do. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I—” He licks his lips before continuing— “The truth is, Y/N, I really, really like you… But I didn’t want to hold you back from finding your true soulmate—whoever was on the other side of your string—’cause I know they’re gonna be the one for you.”

If you weren’t sitting already, you’re sure Jake’s confession would have swept you off your feet and you would be a bumbling mess on his dining room floor. Seeing the forlorn look on his face, you nearly crumble. How stupid your soulmate is. How kind and caring and selfless.

“So I rejected you. I thought I wouldn’t be able to make you happy.” He pauses for a moment, his voice dropping. “It’s still the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

You finally find your voice. “Jake…”

He laughs somberly. “You probably think I’m an asshole.”

“I could never think that,” you say firmly. Your hand finds his on the tabletop, and he laces your fingers together, staring at your connected palms with awe.

“I do think you’re a little bit dumb, because I’ve liked you too since, like, forever—”

“Define forever,” he interrupts, not unkindly.

“Well—maybe since the time you surprised me with all the physical copies of that book series I wanted for my fifteenth birthday?”

“Then,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’ve loved you since before forever.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth. You feel a tug on your little finger as Jake moves his hand away from yours and cups your cheek with it instead. “I’ve also wanted to kiss you since before forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, drawing closer to you.

You lean forward and capture his lips with yours, running your tongue along his bottom lip. He parts his mouth with a sigh, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. His other free hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck; you wind your arms around his neck. The position is a bit cumbersome—the edge of the chair digs into your thigh, and he nearly knocks his elbow on the back of his chair—but his touch is searing hot, the welcome kind, the kind that makes you crave more and more and more.

“You promise you won’t do it again?” you ask later, out of breath and flushed.

“I promise,” he says, and he links his pinkie finger with yours to seal the deal.

The thread tied around it glows golden.

#5. he doesn’t even believe in soulmates (but he’ll try)

“You can’t see it?”

“I’ve told you a million times already,” Jake says patiently, “but I can’t.”

“How?” You look at him dubiously. “It’s literally a glowing golden thread connecting you and me.”

“I don’t need a thread to connect us,” your boyfriend quips. “I can think of better uses for a rope.”

You make a sound of disgust. “We’re at the library.”

Jake Sim grins at you, all bright and shining and vivid. “So?”

Taehyun lets out a pointed cough, typing on his laptop. “There are other people here,” he says, motioning to Gaeul, Chaerin and Sunghoon. All three of them are very obviously avoiding your gaze. Even the tips of Taehyun’s ears are pink. You stifle a giggle.

“Sorry,” Jake says, not sounding sorry at all. He picks up your hand again, thumb brushing against the knuckle of your little finger, right above the knot where the golden string is tied. He whispers to you, next, “I just don’t believe in it.”

“I know,” you say. “But you’re missing out on a lot.”

Jake hums. “I don’t believe in soulmates. But I believe in you.”

You roll your eyes, ready to chew him out for being a sappy romantic again, when his next words make your heart stutter.

“I think that’s good enough for me.”

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nightdncer · 3 months ago

Text

“ so, gotta boyfriend.. ? ”

✦ pairing : {college boyfriend} suguru geto x fem!reader

✦ warnings : smut, cusses, pet names, teasing, taunting, typos, ! minors + ageless blogs dni !

✦ A/N : redoing my whole blog >_< || GHOST FACE GETO FANART AT THE END >:3 || oh my gyats, this is longer than my usual stories

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

it was a usual day. going to your boring classes where you just end up falling asleep, going out with your friends and then rotting in your bed all day long.

yet, something seemed quite off…

usually, there would be your group of friends bothering you. satoru, ieriei, kento and yu. yet, theres one other person as well.

ah! your lover!

you haven’t seen him at all today, not even in classes. well, that’s pretty common since he usually just skips them since the teacher is lecturing about nonsense. plus, it’s college! you’re able to leave class without getting called out.

but still. even while eating out at the buffet satoru made all five of you go, suguru wasn’t there. you remember kento mentioning how he hasn’t seen suguru, yet no one bat an eye on his comment.

as you were staring at the ceiling, just thinking about your day, you suddenly get a phone call from an unknown number.

huh. that’s strange.

you thought to yourself.

usually, you wouldn’t receive unknown numbers, unless they were scam callers. but you’ve blocked them all already. perhaps a new one?

you knew you shouldn’t click that green button, yet it just seemed so tempting. something in you, your guts, was saying to press that button and bring the phone to your ear. so, out of pure curiosity, you did.

“…” you nor the other person said anything, just yet.

with the awkward yet seemingly terrifying silence, you quietly mumbled out, “hello.?”

the person on the other line, seemingly to be a male voice, chuckled. perhaps he could tell you were scared? I mean, you were about to stutter but you caught yourself.

“so…” the man from the other line began speaking, his voice low and naturally raspy. “you scared?”

what do you do? if you lie, he’ll most likely instantly tell. but, you never like admitting your true feelings. yet, there’s nothing you can do, this man will probably track down the truth.

“cmon, sweetheart, answer me~” he taunted you, impatiently waiting for your simple answer.

“yes, I am scared.. what about-”

he cut you off, chuckling at your fear. “of course you are.. I mean, look at you.”

“look at you?” is he watching me?

you think to yourself, wiping off the sweat of fear from your forehead.

as a few seconds of silence from you two go on, the man started teasing you, “I can hear your heaving breathing, sweetheart.”

sweetheart?

what a weird pet name to call someone, especially from an unknown number.

“.. just tell me what you want..” you grumbled out.

“begging for the truth, huh? so bratty..” he purred in the phone, his voice sending shivers down your spine just from his tone of voice.

“besides..” he was starting to talk once more. “you’ll learn soon.”

damn it. you were pretty impatient, and for waiting for the reason why this unknown number was calling you is driving you insane.

the other line let out a bored yawn, then whispering in his natural raspy voice,

“so, gotta boyfriend..?” he purrs.

“excuse me?” you responded, not even thinking about saying that. it was just a surprised response to his unusual question.

“you heard be, darlin’”

“you gotta boyfriend?”

“yes.. what about him?”

the other line chuckled softly, as you heard a shake from a doorknob. it couldn’t be your doorknob… right?

“comin’ in darling.” he whispers, ending the phone call.

as the door open, it was a tall guy, seemingly to be 6’3 in a black coat and a mask. the ghost face mask from Scream.

he took it off, revealing to be your boyfriend, suguru geto.

“s- sugu?!” you stammered in shock.

he hopped onto the edge of the bed and lays down on his stomach, resting his head on your lap. his head radiating his warmth onto your cold fragile lap.

“I scared ya.” he mumbled out, having a taunting smirk, like he was triumphed that he scared you.

you couldn’t help but lift up your hand and graze it on his hair, ruffling it every now and then. “couldn’t ya tell it was me?” he commented, leaning into your touch. “no.. you changed your voice, suguru!!” you grumbled out, pouting. “ah, I supposed I did, doll.”

he then grabbed your waist and lifted you up in the air, him adjusting himself to lay on his back. he then put you on his already harden length, chuckling at your widen eyes. “aww, what’s wrong?” he teases you, pretending to act clueless.

as he said that, he started making you grind against his bulge, making you gasp in surprise.

“woa woa, suguru!” you stammered out, him slapping your ass hard to wane you to shush.

“you don’t know what we’re about to do, not yet…” he whispers. “be quiet… these dorm walls are thin.” he grumbled, taking off your shorts.

“wearin’ my shirt again?” he commented, his baggy T-shirt being oversized for you. “goddamn it, I won’t be able to see your ride me.” he grumbles, taking off ‘your’ shirt, leaving you with a loose tang top.

he pulled down his pants, along with his boxers and threw them on the carpet floor with your pant and panties.

“it’s not gonna fit.” you mumbled, turning your head to the side to see it grazing against your clit. “oh, yes it will doll.”

he then pushed you down into it without warning, not even with letting part of it in first for you to get comfortable with it.

“tell me if it hurts.” he warns, not wanting to hurt your small fragile body.

his large hands on your waist did the job, not him lifting part of his body to keep thrusting into you, not you having your own body bouncing up and down, his hands did it.

“o- oh!” you gasp, looking at suguru, still in his ghost face costume.

“uh huh, keep making those sounds.” he grumbles, picking up his pace with his hand on your waist. “hmgh.!” you whimper out, revealing your neck to him with your eyes rolled back and his hand on your mouth.

“keep making those sounds..” he repeats, adding, “don’t be so loud we get ‘another’ noise complaint.” he teases you.

he saw the bulge in your walls, his length revealing aganist your skin. it was just so tempting to give a little push to it, so he did.

“nonono!” you stammer, as you leaned against him, laying on top of him so he doesn’t see you squirt just from that simple push.

he chuckles as he lifts you back up, your juices all over his length. “you’re so cute..” he mumbled, as he restarted his pace.

“gah!” he moaned out load. “soso much…” you whisper.

too big..

you think to yourself, your lips quivering, and as you were getting dumb from his length, he came into you.

“f- fuckkk..” he groans, smirking at your lips skittering.

he gave some gentle smacks on your ass and whispers, “boo.”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

by aransmind on tiktok

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back2bluesidex · 1 year ago

Text

Best Fucking Friends - JHS & PJM (18+)

Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here.

Pairing: Hoseok X fem!reader X Jimin

Theme: PWP, Smut, threesome (?) NSFW!!!

Wordcount: 2k+

Summary: Guess, your dumbass ex-boyfriend did the right thing for once by dumping you. Your best friends are more than happy to fuck you into oblivion.

Warnings: Explicit sex, unprotected sex (it's a no no), throat fucking, tit play, oral (both party receiving), little bit of insecure reader, jimin is blonde (yeah, that's a warning). tell me if there's more.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: enjoy the flith.

It’s almost pathetic how you are standing at your best friends’ door, wearing a thin tshirt and a pair of sweatpants, hair disheveled, sticking to every direction because of the tantrum you threw earlier.

Two bottles of soju and a dozen beer cans dangling from your arms resting inside two black polyethene. Heavy indeed, but you can manage.

You jab at the doorbell again, way too impatient to get inside your comforting nest, in their comforting embrace, but you don’t know what’s taking them so long.

After almost 3 minutes of keeping you outside, Jimin finally opens the door and his eyebrows shoot to reach his hairline.

“Y/N? hey?” he speaks through his plump lips but you are way too angry and frustrated to give into his ethereal beauty.

“What the fuck took you so long? It’s been a lifetime since I started ringing the bell!” you spat at him, shoving him aside as you welcome yourself inside their apartment.

“Ah! We thought our neighbor was here again to complain about our overflowing trash.” Jimin follows you inside as he takes a look at the items you are placing one by one on their coffee table.

“I thought you had a date with your dumbass boyfriend today?” Jimin places carefully and you ignore his question.

“Where is Hobi?” grabbing a beer can, you jump on their plush couch. God! You love this couch more than your own.

“Taking a shower but that’s not important! You just ignored my question. Is everything alright or not, Y/N?” Jimin’s expression turns serious as he comes and sits down beside you. You ignore him again, taking a big and loud gulp from the beer can.

The bathroom door clicks open and your other best friend walks out… wearing only a bathrobe.

Your eyes fall on Hoseok and you almost choke on the beer.

The loose neck of the bathrobe hangs low on his sharp collarbones, water drips down from his wet jet black hair and drops on his chest, and gradually gets soaked in the fluffy material of the robe.

You shamelessly check him out even when you know Jimin's basically sitting beside you and can see you thirsting over his roommate slash best friend. And if you are not wrong, you probably see Jimin smirking a bit.

“Y/N?” Hobi exclaims as soon as he notices you sitting on the couch, “didn’t you have a date?”

That’s it! You come to your best friends for some solace but all they have to talk about.. Is your date!

“Why the fuck do you guys have to talk about him? He dumped me! Do you guys hear what I am saying? He fucking dumped me!!” you scream at the top of your lungs. Your eyes turn blurry and before you close them you see Hoseok running to you.

Within a moment, you find yourself being sandwiched between two warm bodies, one slightly wet and another way too soft.

Before you know, you start crying, “that fucker said he doesn’t feel the same way for me anymore! He said he found someone else and thinks that she is the soulmate he was looking for! That nutjob!”

Jimin rubs on your back saying, “it’s his loss, completely his loss.”

“I thought we could be something. I thought- he loves me! Fuck! I am a fool! Why would anyone fall for a cold, short-tempered, not-so-attractive 27 year old like me?” you shout again, voice already hoarse.

“Stop talking nonsense.” Hoseok rolls you into a sharp rebuke, “since when you are so low on your confidence? Did you forget how many guys you had warped around your fingers back in our uni days? Nothing has changed since then. You are still very much attractive and you still have at least two guys all whipped for you.”

Two guys? Wait! He isn’t referring to him and Jimin, is he?

“Which two? Show me?” you reply, trying to sit straight on the couch.

“Us” the hushed word comes out of Jimin’s lips. You whip your head to meet his eyes.

“What? What do you-”

“You know what we mean, Y/N.” Hoseok says softly. You again turn your head to take the man in. your eyes bore into his darker ones and you realize your usual jolly Hobi is very much serious now.

“Since when? And both of you? Wait! Don’t tell me you guys have fought over me or something?” Both of them break into laughter at this.

“Not at all, darling. We aren’t highschool kids. We are grown up men and we know the pleasure of sharing.” Jimin speaks in a very sultry tone and that’s when you finally take a good look at the blonde man.

Jimin has this gender-neutral charm that can rock anyone off their shoes. You will be lying if you say you are completely immune to those beautiful eyes, smooth blonde hair, perfect set of white teeth, that round juicy booty and especially those plump lips of his. Only you know how many times you imagined the taste of those pink muscles.

However, that’s it.

You didn’t think of taking your thoughts any further, especially when you have a big fat crush on your other best friend.

You have always been on your knees for Hoseok since your university days. But you have always admitted the fact that he is way too good for you. So, you tkept your feelings bottled successfully.

You might not be a giddy mess around him anymore but doesn't that mean you don’t feel weak for the man, especially when he is sitting right beside you, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and practically confessing that he has a crush on you too?

What the fuck?

“Sharing? You guys wanna share me? h-how?” you shutter, being completely aware of what you are asking.

Hoseok looks at Jimin and gives him a knowing lopsided smile.

“You wanna see how? Answer in yes or no.” Hoseok’s aura changes in a heartbeat and the sentence comes out less like a statement and more like an order.

“Y-yes.” You shutter again.

“Good girl” Jimin whispers right behind your ear, “then you will do as we say, right?”

“Yes” this time your voice comes out breathy. You already feel heat on your core even though the men haven’t even touched you yet.

“You trust us, right?” Hoseok voices softly, as he tucks a stary strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah.” another lone word slips past your lips.

“Let us take the charge then. And tell us to stop whenever you feel like. Okay?” Hoseok’s eyes flood with warmth and darkness at the same time and you don’t know how it is even possible. So you just nod in agreement.

“Strip.” Jimin says firmly and your eyes go wide.

“W-what?” you ask for confirmation.

“You heard me.” He states. You have never seen Jimin this serious for the entire 8 years of knowing him. You take a look at Hoseok, who seems to be waiting for you to comply with Jimin’s order.

So you do.

Standing up on your feet, you slip out of your tshirt first, then your pants, then your bra and lastly your underwear. Just when you are about to throw your underwear away, Jimin extends his hand towards you, clearly asking for the article.

You place it on his palms, embarrassed of the tiny wet patch caused by your impromptu arousal.

“Bunny, huh?” Jimin chuckles at the cartoon bunny printed on the front side of your panty. He caresses the material for a moment and then takes it to his nose and inhales sharply. You start leaking due to his actions.

You are way too busy with Jimin that you don’t see Hoseok ravishing your naked form with his eyes. He is very impatient. Finally after 8 years he is about to get the chance to taste you but you are too busy to observe Jimin’s antics. So he tugs at your hand and gains your attention.

“Lay down, angel, let me have a taste.” Hoseok’s voice dips down a few octaves lower causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Jimin takes the hold of your upper body and leans it down on the backrest of the couch. Hoseok moves on his feet, sits down on his knees right between your legs.

Parting your legs gently, he hums in satisfaction, “umm.. Wet already.”

The way Hoseok eyes your cunt, makes you gush out more arousal. The slick drips down your core causing Hoseok’s mouth to water.

On the other hand, Jimin starts placing small, wet kisses on your jawline. Even though his position is a bit awkward, that doesn’t seem to bother him.

His kisses travel down to the south and reach to your cleavage. But before you could react to that you feel a wet muscle testing your slicked slit. You look down to find Hoseok staring straight at you while lapping up your juices rapidly from your cunt.

Jimin has also started licking at your perked nipples, flicking and biting those to his heart’s content.

Fuck! It’s too much. Having your tits and cunt eaten out at the same time? A pleasure you never thought you would experience, that too, by your very own best friends.

Hoseok takes your clit into his mouth while stretching your wet heated hole with two of his fingers right when Jimin digs his fingers into one of your tit and bites your other nipple harshly.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” you moan out a string of curses. Heads on the cloud, you feel euphoric. What in the world did you do in your past life to deserve this pleasure?

You start clenching around Hoseok’s fingers as he keeps on abusing your clit with his practiced tongue. He knows you are close.. You know it too.

“Are you gonna cum, angel?” Hoseok whispers. His mouth and nose glistens with your arousal. You nod.

A harsh slap lands on your wet tit. “Use your words, bunny.” Jimin commands.

“Yes. yes gonna cum- ah! Fuck!” Hoseok cuts you off mid sentence by twisting his fingers and pressing down on your g-spot.

And you cum unannounced, on Hoseok’s tongue. He sucks up every last bit of it.

“Look at her, hyung. She drenched you.” Jimin’s tone is sultry, lust drips from it.

Hoseok chuckles darkly, “think of how much she would cum on our dicks, Jimin-ah!”

You know they are teasing you and you would fight them usually but right now you are defenseless, in your post orgasm glory and you want them to keep going.

“Fuck me please.” you murmur, pulling yourself out of your fucked up state, “fuck my cunt and mouth at the same time, please. Please!” you beg.

They look at each other for a brief moment, coming to terms, Jimin says, “You sure you can take it?”

“Yes! Yes I can.” your breath gets heavier with the anticipation of their cocks inside you one by one.

You take one of both of their hands and place those on either of your tits.

“Fuck me.. Please.” you beg, yet again.

“Fuck, Y/N. you will be the end of us.” Hoseok bites his lips,as he squeezes your supple flesh, he continues, “On your fours, ass up, right now.”

You oblige.

Jimin walks behind you and you know, he will be the one to fuck you first. Hoseok stands right in front of your face. He slips out of his bathrobe. His cock stands tall and proud. You start salivating at his sight.

Talk about length and girth, he got it all.

Craning your neck you take a look at Jimin. He, too, is naked now. And his cock is literally the most beautiful one you have ever seen.

Hoseok places his hand on your chin, tilting your head back at him, he mutters, “are you ready, angel?”

You reply saying yes.

“Open both of your holes wide of us then.” he commands, you comply.

Soon your throat and cunt fill with a pair of dicks belonging to you two hot best friends. And you can’t be happier.

Guess, your dumbass ex-boyfriend did the right thing for once by dumping you. Your best friends are more than happy to fuck you into oblivion.

#bts smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts x you #jimin x you #hoseok x you #bts fanfictions #jimin fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfiction #bts jimin #bts hoseok #bts

1K notes · View notes

lovings4turn · 10 months ago

Text

ᯓ★ 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 (𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒)

— a few days have passed since you last saw lando, yet your feelings are as strong as ever. there’s nothing like another party to finally set the record straight. (3.2k words)

+ aka. part two of don’t delete the kisses (and my longest fic to date on this blog !!)

+ again mentions of drinking and clubbing, largely fluff . lando n reader are only slightly tipsy ! this took far too long to get out but she's finally here - hope you all enjoy !!!

it had been three days since you’d gone to the club, and three days since you’d consequently fled from the club due to your inability to act normally around lando norris.

you hadn’t seen him since then, but you’d texted back and forth from the morning afterwards. you’d felt bad about the whole thing, just leaving without even finding him to say goodbye, and so made up some excuse about getting too overwhelmed and not wanting to ruin his night with your desire to go home.

and because he was an angel, lando didn’t even question you. instead, he instantly accepted your explanation, assuring you it was more than fine as long as you were okay. he could go without a goodbye, if it meant the best for you.

eighty percent of your subsequent conversations were complete nonsense. ever since you had became close all those years ago, lando had taken it upon himself to text you every single thought he ever had, no matter how menial or silly.

embarrassingly, as a result of being down so, completely, horrifically bad for him, you found each and every one endearing. yes, even the god-awful memes he would send you religiously between the hours of two and five am when he couldn’t sleep.

perhaps it was even worse that you’d go on to forward said memes to other friends, pretending that you had found them. you were unable to prevent the laughs that would escape your lips every time your phone buzzed with a notification from lando.

one on hand, you were on top of the world. on the other, you were going insane.

lando had positively taken over your mind, every corner of your head filled with deep brown curls and impish laughter. even the most menial things proved to link back to lando in some way, a tangled red string of association that to anyone else would make zero sense but was obvious to you.

you were icarus, and lando the sun; something to dream of but never to have. you were certain that if you chased him, your wax wings would melt rapidly as you succumbed to your impulses before you crashed onto the harsh ground of reality.

learning to cope with the heavy feeling of yearning was something you could do. suffering with a little heartache to keep lando in your life far outweighed not having lando at all.

being definitive in your decision to bury your feelings didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle, though.

now more than ever, it seemed impossible to not think about lando, or talk about him, shout his name from the rooftops so the whole world could hear the praises you would sing for him. it appeared to be a pretty clear sign that you were losing any remaining shreds of self control, but what could you do? no matter how many times your head said no, your heart would tell you that it would always be lando, one thousand times over.

a notification lit up your phone screen, and you were convinced it was a sort of cruel taunt from the universe.

landonorris just posted a photo!

it was borderline masochistic, the way in which you tapped the notification instantly and allowed yourself to be led to lando’s latest instagram photo dump. alongside a few selfies, pictures of him from that night in the club were littered throughout, and though he was posing with friends in each photo, your eyes were focused solely on him.

without really thinking, you pinched the screen, zooming in a little further to admire every detail of lando’s face that had been captured by someone’s iphone. the moles that were dotted across his face like they’d been individually placed there, the unruly curls that begged your fingers to find a home in them, and that fucking smile.

realisation hit soon after, and you caught yourself with a groan. here you were, sitting looking at his pictures with a dopey, love-sick grin on your face, acting like a teenage girl with an innocent classroom crush.

“god! might as well write all over a notebook that he rocks my world or something,” you scoffed, mock disgust lacing your words.

oh great, now you were fucking talking to yourself. christ, what had he done to you?

in an act of frustration, you quickly liked lando’s photo before throwing your phone onto your bed, partially hoping it would get lost amongst the pillows so you couldn’t find it again and fawn over more pictures of your supposed best friend.

a distraction was what you needed. and so you stood up and made your way into the kitchen, praying that maybe cooking a nice meal for yourself would sort you out. either that, or you could hit yourself over the head with a frying pan and hope that the concussion would remove any feelings that breached the label of ‘platonic’.

and for two whole hours, your plan had worked.

not only were you able to enjoy the delicious meal you’d made, but also got through a good few episodes of the new tv series you had started watching a week or so ago. the lando shaped hole in your mind had been replaced by witty dialogue and pointless character drama, and you were beginning to think that you had everything under control.

that was until you returned to your bedroom and reached for your phone once more, your lockscreen lighting up to display yet another text thread from lando.

lando: going out tomorrow at 10!!!

lando: be there or be square😈

lando: i need my best dance partner w me

fingers dancing across the keyboard, the text was sent before your brain could even think about the invitation.

y/n: i'll b there🥳

it was official: you were absolutely fucked.

. . .

it was 10:28pm and you were already questioning your decision to come out.

you would say that you had no idea why you’d even agreed to the invitation, but that would be a lie. you knew exactly what had convinced you to get dressed up and leave your house tonight, and that reason was currently grinning at you from his place at the bar, clothed in another stupid button down shirt and sunglasses, of all accessories.

how he had managed to make sunglasses indoors not only acceptable, but attractive to you was just another sign of the power that the man held over you. you’re sure that if you told your friends, they’d never let you live it down. and hell, you wouldn’t even blame them for it.

from the moment you had arrived, lando had commanded your attention. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t intently tuned in to every word he spoke, each movement of his limbs and the expressions on his face. he had you completely hooked, and you were letting it happen, swept along in the riptide of your stupid crush,

whether it was from the pulsating house music, the shot lando had shoved into your hand the moment you’d shown your face, or even just lando himself, you felt electric. sparks of lightning rippled beneath your skin, every last nerve in your body buzzing with anticipation for something that you couldn’t even put your finger on.

butterflies swarmed your stomach, and if someone were to tell you you were looking at lando with stars in your eyes, you would have no doubt that it was true. because as he grinned at you once more, the lively groups of club-goers began to fade away leaving only a vignette of his figure.

you were experiencing every romantic cliche in the fucking book, all thanks to him.

you were unsure as to whether it was a minute or a hour before he was standing in front of you again, the scent of his aftershave almost taunting you as it enveloped you. lando was expertly clasping two vodka cokes in one hand and two shots of tequila in the other, sporting a lopsided smile.

“lando!” you groaned, actions betraying your scolding tone as you reached out to pluck the shot from his hand before grabbing your drink, careful not to cause lando to spill anything.

the last thing you needed right now was to spill a drink on lando’s white shirt. the sight of the material slowly becoming see-through until it offered you a glimpse of his tan, toned skin was more than you would be able to handle.

lando held up the plastic shot glass with a cheeky expression, a silent toast to god knows what, before he tipped the liquid down his throat. his face quickly soured, and he wasted no time in seeing off a large portion of his drink in an attempt to rid himself of the tequila flavour.

“woah, woah, slow down there,” you laughed, gently pushing the cup away from lando’s mouth. “got the whole night ahead of you.”

watercolour eyes dropped to glance at your hand, lando’s stare lingering even after you had pulled your hand back towards your body hastily, as though merely being in the proximity of his body was enough to burn.

you would have thought it odd, if lando hadn’t immediately taken your hand into his larger one and stalked off towards the dance floor, gently tugging you along without a word. your mind told you that lando had simply felt the effects of his drink quicker than expected, and it took him a minute to realise that leading you to the dance floor was the mission he would give himself for the night.

flashbacks of the last time you were out clubbing with lando played in the back of your mind like an old movie, something you would put on in the background for comfort yet wouldn’t pay much attention to.

one dance turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it you had been dancing with lando for the better part of an hour, both of you expertly adapting your moves to match the vibe of whatever song the dj decided to play next.

one of the many perks of attending clubs with formula one drivers was that there was an ever-flowing supply of alcohol. it was something you’d discovered after the first few times you had gone out with lando and his friends: you would finish your drink and before you could blink, someone had shoved a new one into your hand, the cup still marbled with cold condensation.

your current drink had been supplied by max, or maybe even carlos, a far too strong liquor mixed with nowhere near enough soda for your liking. your nose scrunched up at the taste, and lando laughed before gently plucking the cup from you, his fingers brushing against your own for a fleeting moment.

a fire burned in the pit of your stomach, noticing that lando’s lips landed perfectly over the lipgloss mark you’d left moments ago. an indirect kiss.

much like your own moments prior, lando’s face twisted up into a grimace at the taste, and he shook his head furiously.

“that's fucking awful,” he claimed, leaning down a little to shout his complaints into your ear. “whoever bought you that has shit taste.”

“says the man who bought a round of tequila earlier in the night.”

lando chuckled, mumbling a ‘fuck off’ that held more adoration than malice, in your humble opinion. like he had rehearsed it, lando smoothly palmed your drink off onto max before delicately taking hold of one of your wrists, twirling you around just like he had done a few nights ago.

possibly driven by a subconscious want to set right the events of your last night out, you repeated your own actions and spun lando under your arm in response.

lando’s grin was almost blinding, and he pulled you towards him, your hands still clasped by his as he moved your limbs around like the world’s worst puppetmaster.

you were convinced that, had he had enough room around him, he would have spun you both around until you were dizzy, a move he’d pulled many times when you were dancing together in one of your kitchen’s to pass the time it took to cook your meal.

sadly, lando had to settle for flailing arms and uncoordinated shimmies, his priority making you smile rather than trying to look suave amongst the mass of bodies at your every turn.

a few other drivers started to join your circle, handing you both more drinks as they tried to engage in miscellaneous conversation and playfully poked fun at yours and lando’s lack of coordination or apparent shame.

unable to control who stood where, thanks to the power of free will, you had been separated from lando, instead flanked by oscar and george whilst he was wrapped up in a conversation with max fewtrell.

thanks to his position across from you, lando was able to catch your eye, his brow quirked slightly in a silent question meant only for you to decipher. you nodded, a clear response to his wordless communication.

as though it were planned, you and lando began to leave. this was how your last french exit should have been; no longer were you alone and flustered, stumbling into the back of your uber with the desire to bash your head off of a brick wall.

no, this time you had lando’s hand in yours, the pad of his thumb brushing soft circles against the back of your hand as he expertly manoeuvred you both through the crowd, informing you that a car would already be there to take you back to your flat with him in tow.

apologetic texts and goodbyes weren’t necessary this time around, if the loud, obnoxious whooping and whistling from pierre and charles were anything to go by. with their propensity for gossip, you were sure that every inhabitant in the club would be informed of your swift exit with lando within the hour.

the ride home was filled with melodic laughter as lando made it his mission to unload every observation he’d made in the past few hours onto you. he’d taken particular interest in the argument two girls were having when he was waiting at the bar, and left no detail out as he recounted the whole event like some sort of one man show, his only audience you.

the streetlights you passed caused a flickering glow to dance across lando’s features, and the momentary flashes of illumination caused lando to look otherworldly, all shadows and contours framed by deep curls.

lando was so caught up in his story that he was oblivious to your wonderstruck stare, completely unaware of the way you were drinking in every last inch of him, committing each miniscule detail to memory and storing it away for a rainy day.

good, you thought. he’d only take the piss anyways.

the alcohol rendered you both a little unsteady on your feet, and you snorted a laugh as lando stumbled through your front door, catching his shoe on the tiny step that led into your apartment.

whoever lived underneath you would likely be cursing your name right now, as neither you nor lando were too concerned about remaining quiet and light on your feet as you bumbled over to your bedroom. comfort was the only thing on your mind, though you made a mental note to push an apology letter underneath the poor soul’s door the next day.

making himself at home, lando threw himself down onto your bed, the plush mattress eliciting a soft groan from him. his once closed eyes snapped open as you tossed a pair of his joggers at him, a pair he’d left at yours a few months ago (and that you may or may not have ‘forgotten’ to return to him.)

“i’ll get changed in a sec,” lando promised, sinking back into your sheets. “you can too. just, come on, lie down for a bit.”

lando delivered two quick pats to your bed, perhaps hoping it would prompt you to join him faster than you already would have. secretly, you were glad that he thought you needed convincing to lie down with him for a moment.

you pretended to consider it, eyes flitting over to where your makeup remover sat, before you gave in, mumbling an ‘okay’ as you clumsily removed your shoes and clambered onto the bed next to him.

the gap between you both was barely there. if you moved your hand just slightly, your fingers would brush against lando’s side. how easy it would be, just to grant yourself a slice of heaven for once.

lando’s voice brought you out of your trance.

“when you left, last time…”

an unfinished question. lando was clearly attempting to seem nonchalant as he broached the topic that you had both been skirting around since it had happened, his eyes trained onto the thread of your duvet that he had busied his hands with.

in that moment, you didn’t think you could ever lie to him, no matter how humiliating the truth was.

“it got too much. y’hands on me and everything, i got too flustered. i just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, i guess,” you admitted as an embarrassed smile played on your lips.

a giggle trickled from lando’s mouth, prompting you to roll onto your side and face him with a raised brow.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothin’. just the fact you fancied me so much that you had to run away from me,” lando responded, grinning mischievously.

your response came in the form of a pillow hitting lando square in the face.

“oi!”

the pillow came flying back, but missed your body by roughly a couple of inches, the alcohol clearly impairing his usually decent aim.

“missed me,” you taunted.

unexpectedly lando’s face lit up at your words, and he rolled closer to you, propping himself up onto an elbow so that his face was hovering over yours.

you swallowed thickly at the sudden movement, eyes darting across his face frantically as though his motives would be written into the curve of his smile.

“think there’s a saying about that,” lando mused, a hand trailing up your side so gently that you half believed you were imagining it. “missed me, missed me, now you’ve gotta kiss me, or something.”

and if that wasn’t a sign to press your lips to his, you weren’t sure what was.

you swallowed lando’s sound of surprise as your lips melded with his own, his mouth soft and warm as he more than returned your affections.

clearly not content with the level of control he possessed, lando briefly pulled back and swiped the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before attaching his lips to your once more, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth and nipping at it with a smirk.

it was slow, and a little sloppy, a blend of tongue and teeth as you desperately tried to taste as much of each other as possible.

your grip on lando’s shirt was vice-like, as though you were scared he would disappear if let out of your hands for even a fleeting second.

“don’t worry, ‘m not going anywhere, pretty girl,” lando teased softly, punctuating his words with another kiss. “y’stuck with me.”

and suddenly, everything had become clear. it was always going to be you and lando, a love that would transcend a lifetime.

tags : @wintfleur @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @ssararuffoni @tbsloneely @onecojg @basicchelsea

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris drabble #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

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milla-frenchy · 1 year ago

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Roads part 3

4k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader Chapt summary: Joel doesn't know how to deal with his feelings, and loses control Warnings: 18+ mdni. possessiveness, jealousy, alternate POV, dirty talk, praise kink, masturbation, fingering, oral (f/m receiving), cum eating, unprotected piv, ass play, rimming, anal, creampie, light violence (not against reader or Joel) a/n: Thank you for beta-ing @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 💞💞🫂 Playlist | ao3 | Series masterlist | Masterlist

Part 2

Joel hadn't had a serious relationship in years.

He didn't miss it, didn't want to risk integrating someone into his life. Sarah might eventually become attached to her, but what if it didn’t work out? It would be another loss. The departure of Sarah's mother had been harsh, and their daughter had suffered too much from her mother's absence. He didn't want to hurt her again.

So he went on with his life, without any additional ties, offering all the possible stability to Sarah.

Until the day he met you.

He had heard Tommy talk about you so much, for so many years, that he had been imagining… someone else. A vague vision of you as a child and then as a teenager had formed in his mind, with all the stories he had heard all those years. Whether by an elated Tommy or by his parents bitching about the “nonsense they had done again” when he, slightly older, was already far too mature for his age.

One afternoon, your parents had stopped him when he came home from high school, their neighbors being furious at the cigarette butts both of you threw from your bedroom window to the neighbors' garden.

"No, I don't know where my brother or your daughter are, sorry," he replied, with a quiet sigh.

Now, years later, his work situation was worrying, and even if he had his old prejudices, you worked in a large group, held an important position there, so why not see where it would go?

*************

That evening at Alexandro's, he came leaving aside his prejudices, and after one meal, that image was forgotten. He had in front of him a rigorous, practical, and independent person. Serious. With an amazing quirky sense of humor.

************

The night of the gala, during your speech, he looked at you attentively. Your suit, your tie, your attitude. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans.

That night in his bed, after you brought him home, he thought back to what Tommy had told him, "Everyone falls in love with her." Joel thought about the fact that you had the balls not to stay after your speech, because you did not like the proximity of people. Thought about the phone call you had received.

He took his cock in his fist, and jerked off thinking of you, until he came, growling, sending his squirts on his lower stomach.

************

Several weeks had passed since then, and you had already seen each other far more times than any of the other women he had dated. He loved to fuck you. He loved that you had no limits. He loved how you two complemented each other physically. But also more and more, he loved talking to you. Loved to know more about you, your way of thinking. He liked your seriousness, your humor. Those times were totally different from when you were fucking. You were calm, poised. And he sought that closeness more and more. Worse, he didn't want to lose it, he who hadn’t had long term relationships. This turnaround puzzled him, he didn't know how to handle it. He just knew he didn't want it to end.

*************

He had been hard all night at the restaurant since the moment you said you had talked to your ex on the phone. So he drove to your home fast so he could arrive before you, watch you walk up your driveway. He wanted to sink his cock into you, telling himself that during that moment, he would be the only one you would think about.

He had fucked you against your front door, so eager to feel you. He had been watching you, lying on your dining room table, your fingers sliding against your clit, as his cock was thrusting deep into you. He watched you cum and got lost in his emotions.

“Everyone falls in love with her.”

This sentence from Tommy haunted him. What if someone fell in love with you? And that he could no longer share those moments with you?

He who never attached himself, was afraid of losing the feelings that he had rejected altogether until then. And he handled them as best as he could. Painfully, and badly.

You tried to forget the discussion with Tommy. You missed Joel when you didn't see him. But you saw each other often, more and more.

Tonight you were at his house. You told him to sit on the couch, naked. You were standing in front of him in the dark, also undressed. The room was moonlit. He looked at your curves, his cock erect against his stomach.

You planted your feet on the couch, on each side of his thighs and settled down, your knees resting on top of the headboard, your crotch level with his mouth.

His gaze was up at you, eyes devouring you. You caressed his cheek, your other hand pressed against the wall. Joel put his hands on your bottom. You brought your pussy close to his mouth, and he started licking you, his eyes still fixed on your moonlit face. His tongue slid against your slit. You pressed against his mouth and felt your lower abdomen quiver at the touch of his tongue, pressed against your clit, twirling it under the tip of his tongue.

Your moans filled the room and you thought no one had ever given you pleasure like him. His tongue was fucking into you, as deeply as possible.

He reached out his hand towards you and said "spit", his tongue leaving you for a second.

He then took his cock in his fist, and started jerking off. Slowly at first, then harder, as he was fucking you with his tongue.

He growled against your folds. You imagined his hand on his cock, his strong grip, his confident and increasingly rapid movements. It amplified the pleasure you felt.

“Joel, please… my clit. Suck it. Make me come in your mouth. And come with me”

He slid his tongue from your soaking wet hole despite all the attention he was putting in licking everything that flowed from you, towards your clit and sucked it gently.

He alternated licking and sucking. You felt your pleasure rising.

“Fuck Joel… Yeah, keep going. Go on…oh Joel…”

He began jerking off faster.

You came in his mouth, while he moaned and squirted his cum all over his hand and stomach.

You got off the sofa, your legs shaking, and settled down between his knees. You lapped up the cum that was smeared on him, and cleaned him.

“Fuck… baby...” he didn't finish his sentence.

You came to sit on the sofa next to him, your legs folded under you. He took you in his arms, and you remained entwined, naked, silent. He stroked your hair.

After a while, he stood up and took your hand, “Come with me sweetheart.”

He took you to his bedroom and asked you to lie on his bed, on your stomach.

He straddled you, and spread your buttocks with his hands, staring at your wet pussy and ass.

“ 'm gonna fuck you now… are you gonna be wise, my sweet slut? You gonna let me do it?"

"Yes Joel."

"Good girl."

He entered you with a slow thrust, couldn't resist feeling your pussy before preparing you for what he had in mind. He slid his cock, watching it enter you, shining with your wetness. He went back and forth several times before withdrawing from you, growling at not feeling you anymore.

You were waiting, getting more and more turned on.

He quickly glided his thumb against your pussy and spread your wetness. Going up more and more towards your ass, until his thumb reached your ring.

You moaned under his touch.

He lay down, his head between your thighs which he spread wide, and passed his tongue from your pussy to your ass. He lapped up and down, lingering more and more on your ass. He slipped a finger into your pussy and lingered over your tightest hole with his tongue, until he penetrated you with its tip.

He licked for a long time, to prepare you as best as possible.

He lay on top of you and entered your pussy with a slow thrust, his fists on either side of your head. Your body enclosed in his. He was fucking you slowly, deeply.

He grabbed something from his nightstand drawer, while he was deep inside you.

You heard the sound of the opening bottle. Then he put some lube on his fingers, before coming to massage your ring with it, his cock still deep inside your pussy.

You moaned, eager to feel him in the last hole he hadn't fucked yet.

“On all fours baby” he told you, before applying lube to his cock.

You settled on your elbows and knees, waiting.

"You're so beautiful baby. I'm gonna fuck you so deep. Want me to fuck your ass?

"Yes Joel, please."

"Good girl..."

He entered your pussy deeply, one last time, then he positioned himself against your ass. You turned your head and your eyes locked with his. The tip of his cock pressed against your tight ring, he began to thrust.

You looked at the headboard, and said “fuck, Joel…”

You felt all of your muscles contract against his cock, trying to push him away.

“Relax baby,” he murmured.

The tip finally inserted and you couldn't hold back a scream.

“I know baby, i know. Shhh it's gonna be ok. I know you can take it sweetheart. I want you to take it. Will you?"

"Fuck… yes Joel, I can do it"

"That's good baby. You're doing well."

He kept pushing into you.

“I wanted to fuck your ass so bad. You have no idea how many times I've checked it out. Thinking how good it would be for my cock. But I had no idea it would be that good.”

And he pushed until his balls hit your pussy, and he stayed down. You could hear him breathing heavily, when you felt fuller than ever.

“Fuck… Joel… Move. Fucking… move”

He spread your ass with his hands, watched his cock thrust all the way into your ass, your dilated ring throbbing around him. He took a deep breath to calm his excitement.

He began his movements back and forth, bigger and bigger after each push, until he came out almost completely with each hip movement, to immediately fill you totally again. You gasped, biting your lip with each thrust.

"Joel… too much."

"Oh no, it’s not too much sweetheart."

You got used to his girth, and he started shoving you harder and harder.

He whispered in your ear “I knew you were a slut. My slut."

You bent your elbows, sagging your chest against the mattress and kept your ass up, which he was clinging to with his hands, to the point where you thought you'd be bruised the next day.

Your head was resting against the pillow, your body was a rag doll waiting for every stroke of his cock.

He slid his hand against your pussy and stuck two fingers inside you, which made you moan. "I miss your pussy, but tonight, I'm taking care of another hole" He then pulled out his fingers and started circling his index finger against your clit.

“Fuck… it feels so good, my cock deep in your ass sweetheart.”

You felt your pleasure rising, filled with his length and the sensations that his fingers were giving you.

“You take me so well baby girl, so well.”

“Joel…” you said, unable to speak further.

“Come on baby. Come on. I want to feel my cock even tighter in your ass, while you’re squeezing me.”

And you came, hard. Your pussy clenching around nothing, but contracting his cock buried in your ass.

“ ‘m gonna fill you up now. I'm gonna shoot my load deep in your ass."

He groaned, fucking you even harder, your feelings heightened, way too strong for your mind. Then he froze and you felt the jets of hot cum he sent deep inside you.

He pushed you forward until your knees gave out and you were lying with his body on top of yours, crushed under its weight.

He clasped your fingers in his and buried his head in the crook of your neck.

The only thought you had was the fear that gripped your guts, of not feeling him anymore. In you, against you. You were intoxicated by him, as you had never been by anyone. And while his cock was still in your ass, the spasms that continued in spite of you only squeezed him tighter, still making him groan.

*************

You two were at the pub, Joel picked you up after work. Joel had grown accustomed to these outings, but at the same time they contributed to his rising possessiveness. He saw men looking at you way too often.

More and more, he thought his reactions would be better handled if you discussed it. If, maybe, you talked about what your relationship was.

If it was official, he could hug you, kiss you, and show that you were his. He always ended up brushing the idea off from his mind.

You went to the bar to order a drink for the both of you. A guy approached you and offered to join him at his table, which you politely declined. He put his hand on your arm and asked if you were sure. “I already told you no” you told him, annoyed by his insistence.

"Get your fucking hand off her," Joel snarled behind you. You turned around, his imposing broadness making the other man, yet of equal height to Joel, appear ridiculously frail. You had never heard him talk with such a cold voice.

"That's ok Joel, he's leaving" but he didn’t hear you.

"Oh man come on… Just one drink and I'll give her back to you. Unless she wants to spend more time with me after that. You know…" You rolled your eyes, exasperated that he was talking about you like you weren't there, shocked by what he had the audacity to say, and started to say "listen, man…"

And… Joel went mad. He hit him with a punch that knocked the man to the ground, grabbed him by the collar and punched him again. He shook his hand and grabbed your arm to pull you back.

At first you didn't understand what was going on. His movement to pull you away was too sudden, and you were in shock at what just happened.

You pushed him away and told him "fuck off Joel."

You left the bar and called for a passing cab.

Joel was furious. Furious at that man, furious at himself for letting himself go and unleashing his violent side. He came out of the pub, ran to his car and arrived at your house almost at the same time as your cab.

You told him to leave you alone, and spat back at him, “I don't need a fucking walking red flag in my life.” But he followed you until you opened the door.

"What the fuck Joel? What the fuck?! Are you mad behaving like that? You can't beat his ass like that just 'cause he's being a dick. You can't act like a fuckin' savage. Fuck Joel… You can't pull my arm like that. I'm not… i'm not yours. I'm not your damn property. You understand? I'm no one's property. So go fuck yourself and get the fuck outta here."

He looked at you with wide eyes and all his anger came back.

"He touched you," he growled.

"Do you have any idea how many times men act like jerks? He was probably drunk anyway. And I could handle it myself. I don't need a fucking Neanderthal man to protect me in a crowded bar"

Tears were starting to appear at the corners of your eyes. it was too much for you. His reaction at the pub, that scene between you, you were cracking up realizing that everything had gone wrong in such a short time. You didn't understand his insecurity and it pissed you off and made you sad.

All of his anger went down at once. He sat down on a chair and put his head in his hands. " 'm sorry. I'm sorry... I... I don't know what happened to me. I... don't know what I was thinking. I'm fucking ashamed of myself. I don't know… I've been so scared and got angry. It was an instinct... Fuck. 'm sorry."

“Scared? What were you scared of?” He shook his head and didn't answer.

You sighed “Joel… you scared me there. Really”

“I'm sorry I... It wasn't directed at you. Not for a moment. I couldn't stand seeing him insisting and laying his hand on you.”

You were lost and didn't know how to react. You weren't used to that kind of rash reaction. Joel had lost control and you weren't expecting it. Seeing him so miserable broke your heart.

"Joel…"

You approached him gently, he took your waist in his arms, put his head against your belly and hugged you like a child.

You put your hands against his head. You didn't know if you were still mad, if you wanted to reassure him, or if you wanted… Something else. You felt the warmth within you awaken. Felt that shadow jump deep inside you. That darkness.

He looked up at you, you stared at each other for a few seconds. And his eyes went dark. He got up and kissed you gently, stepped back, waiting for your reaction. Seeing that you didn't reject him, he kissed you again, more violently, your face between his hands, teeth against teeth, tongue against tongue. He bit your lip gently then licked it.

"So you're not mine, huh?"

His words made your pussy clentch.

You backed away, gauging his attitude. Assessing if you could go further. If he had regained control. You said "my safe word is "arrow". Understand me?" He nodded. He understood what you wanted. You hesitated a few moments, time to make sure that you were ready to play that game, and if Joel was capable of it too.

"No Joel, i'm not yours."

You stared at each other again. You lowered your gaze to his lips, and bit yours. He grinned.

Your words confirmed, more than any way you had fucked so far, that there was definitely something dark in you. And that it was not him who managed things between the two of you. It was you, all along. Bringing him where you wanted to go. And he loved that, knowing that you were sure of yourself and your desires, and that you chose him to express that darkness. He felt like the two of you were a perfect match, more than ever. He allowed himself to think so. His insecurity was at rock bottom right now, and he was ready to give you anything you wanted.

"Yeah... well we're gonna see ‘bout that," he said.

He undid his belt slowly, and took it off and threw it on the floor. Then he unzipped his jeans, without lowering them. He squeezed his crotch in the palm of his hand and walked over to you, ripping your blouse open and popping all the buttons. He kissed you, sliding his tongue in your mouth and mingling it with yours. The zipper of his jeans pressed against your lower abdomen, you felt his cock against your pussy.

He undid your bra and took off your pants and panties. Then he pulled his cock out of his jeans and boxers. You looked at his erect member and bit your lip again. He caressed himself slowly while looking at you.

"On your knees."

You didn't move.

"Not gonna repeat myself."

You knelt down and looked at him. He was still holding his cock in his hand, still jerking off slowly.

"Suck", he commanded.

You dripped your saliva on his cock. You took it in your hand and jerked it off, from the tip to his hand, and you surrounded it with your lips, still looking at him.

“Gonna fuck your mouth” He took your head in his hands, and started to fuck your mouth slowly. He clenched your hair in his fists, digging deeper with each movement. You were still staring at him, until you choked on his cock. You pulled back to catch your breath, then he grabbed the back of your head with one hand, his cock in the other, and slid it down until it touched the back of your throat. "Don't move", he said. You waited, full of his cock, and he released you.

“Get up. I'm not gonna cum in your mouth. Would be too easy”. He waved you up the stairs and followed you, like the first night you fucked, weeks ago. Once in your bedroom, facing you, he pushed you slowly back against the bed, until the backs of your knees bumped against it. You lay down with your legs apart and bent. He took off his pants and boxers and knelt down.

“You’re fucking soaked. Bet you were.” He licked you for a long time, and inserted his fingers inside you. You moaned. “Come in my mouth. Give it to me” Your orgasm floored you, your fists clenching his brown curls.

He licked his fingers, looking at you “Mine". You shook your head, challenging him. Intoxicated by his attitude.

He grabbed you and pulled you up on the bed. “Spread your thighs.” You didn’t move.

“Fuck… you’re really testing me.” He pushed your legs apart, forcibly, lay down between them and brutally penetrated you. You suffocated.

“Take my fucking cock” He said, as he settled a brutal path. You couldn't speak, only moan, your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“Mine?” he scolded.

“F… shit. Fuck… no"

“For Christ sake…” He grabbed you and rolled you back against the bed, face down. His hands spreading your ass, he licked the ring already wet from your wetness which had flowed over it since he had eaten your pussy, and pressed his thumb against your ring. He tickled it with his finger, forcing it little by little until he inserted it in your tight hole. He pulled out, spread your cheeks, spat on your hole and took his cock in his hand

Suddenly you got scared. Of his power, of the upcoming pain. That it would be too much. "No Joel!" You turned your head to look at him.

He stopped immediately. “No?”

You shook your head. He stared at you, stopping time for a few moments.

“Ok baby” He thrust into your pussy and fucked you, slowly but powerfully, laying down with all his weight on top of you. You heard him growl in your ear. Your closeness, his body leaning against yours, made you lose your mind.

“Turn around sweetheart”

And that time, you did as he said. You stared at each other again, but his eyes were soft.

He took your cheeks in his hands and kissed you softly. He took his cock in his hand and slid it inside you, gently, all the way. He moaned longly.

“You’re so tight... So tight for me baby”. He was fucking you slowly, but so deeply. Kissing your lips, your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. His nose brushed everything he could reach. His movements were gentle, but with each thrust he sank deeper, his face nestled in the crook of your neck.

“I'm yours, Joel" you murmured. You heard him rumble against your ear and hugged him tight, feeling the emotion wash over you but not wanting to confess them openly.

“ ‘m gonna cum baby. Come for me please.”

You tilted your pelvis so you could feel the pressure of his lower abdomen against your clit. Savoring the surge of pleasure you felt. He came, sending his spurts of cum deep inside your pussy. His spasms triggered your orgasm and you came hard, while your nails dug into his shoulders.

You stayed like that, waiting for your breaths to calm down.

“You stopped… even though I didn't say my safe word.”

“Didn't need to. I knew you weren't playing anymore."

You felt your heart flatter again.

He finally pulled out, rolled onto his back, and pressed you against him, your head resting on his broad chest.

He sighed. “I don't know how to say what I want to tell you. I don't know how to talk about it sweetheart.”

“Give it a try?” you told him slowly.

"Damn… look, I don't do relationships. Huh... usually. But…” He paused, then: "if you want, I would like to try with you."

“I’d really like it too, Joel” you brushed his neck with your nose and kissed it. Your heart was pounding. He kissed your forehead. You stayed like that, until he felt your breathing slow and your muscles relax.

“I love you”, he whispered in your hair, while you slept. You growled at him, and hugged him tighter in your sleep.

He looked at you in the moonlight, relieved that things could be expressed so easily, and worried that his heartbeat was struggling to slow down.

Part 4

**********************

Thank you for reading 🙏 Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #possessive!joel #jealous!joel #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as joel miller #joel x you #joel x reader #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you

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wish-i-were-heather · 6 months ago

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DRUNK ON YOUR LOVE ⤵ JAMESON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 1410 words, no use of y/n

STORY: jameson calls you on a night out with his brothers... drunk.

WARNINGS: none, just jameson being a drunk idiot

A/N: THIS IS A REPOST OF MY OWN FIC!!! I'm posting it again because my account got deleted, but I still want to keep all my fics on my blog. Thanks to everyone for helping me get this all back.

1:53 A.M.

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. You almost just closed your eyes and ignored it, your half asleep brain thinking it was your morning alarm, until you opened your eyes and saw the color of a face, someone's contact photo, but you were still too tired to process who.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you reached over and answered the call, not knowing who it was. “Hm, what do you want?”

There was too much noise from the other end. People talking, glasses clicking, and music playing. But then his voice. “Heyyyyy,” Jameson said, his words heavily slurred. “I miss you.”

You blinked a few times and then realized what was happening. You checked the contact and sure enough it was your boyfriend- the name read Jamie and it was a picture of him from that one time you two went ax throwing.

“You miss me?” You asked. “Where are your brothers?” He scoffed. “Oh, they’re here. Don’t worry. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they left me because sometimes they’re really big… uh… meanies.” You try not to laugh.

“I- uh, I just wanted to call you and tell you I love you and you’re so pretty and you make me happy. You make me feel like, um, like a puzzle. But when you finish it. You… finish me?” “Save the poetry for when you’re sober, Jameson,” You hear Grayson mutter in the background. “Not that it’d be any better, but at least you’d comprehend my insults.”

“See?” Jameson cried. “Meanies!”

You rolled your eyes. “Is that why you called me, babe? Because you miss me and Grayson is mean?”

“Well also because I… I miss you a lot. And I wish you were here but you’re not. I saw someone who looked like you-” He gasps as if he appalled himself. “Well, they didn’t look like you. No one looks like you, you’re too pretty. But she had the same hair and I was really excited but then Nash told me it wasn’t you so now I’m sad.”

At this point there was no holding back your laughs. “Right, right. Where is Nash right now? He’s not left you alone like this, has he?”

“No, no, Nash is here. And even if he wasn’t Gray and Xander are so- hey!” His voice grew quieter on the phone. “Hey!”

There’s a moment of shuffling and then silence. Then a new voice speaks.

“Hey darlin, it’s me. Your boyfriend had a bit too much to drink.”

You sigh in relief hearing Nash’s voice, just because you know someone is responsible there. “Yeah, I can tell. Do I need to come pick him up?” “No, don’t worry. I haven’t had anything to drink so I’m driving us home. You don’t need to-”

“But I want her!” You hear Jameson whine. “I want her, I love her, I need her now! Because- because I need her so bad, I need to-” “Jeez, shut up,” you make out Xander interrupt.

If the four brothers go out, it’s never not chaotic.

“It’s fine, Nash,” you told him, sitting up and slipping on your shoes. “I’ll come get him. You can stay with Xander and Grayson and not have to deal with him spouting nonsense any longer.”

He laughs. “Alright, if you say so. Careful driving in the dark, hm?”

You step out of the car and make your way into the bar, looking around for him. And soon enough do you see the familiar brown head of hair, now much more messy than it was when he left the house, practically bouncing up and down when he finds you. You start walking towards him, but Jameson practically sprints to you and wraps his arms around you in the world’s tightest hug. “Mm, missed you, babygirl.” His hands find their way to your hips, resting there. “Love you.”

Before you can even respond, he then goes in and kisses you on the lips, claiming your mouth with his. Then he pulls away and starts kissing all over your face. You couldn’t help but giggle, trying to push him away. “Jamie, stop it. You’re drunk, we’re in public.” “But I missed you.” “I missed you too. But can you at least wait till we're home so Grayson isn’t glaring at us?”

Jameson turned around to his brother and flipped him off. Grayson returned the gesture.

“Okay, okay,” you sighed, grabbing your boyfriend’s wrist and bringing his hand down. “Put that thing away. Now you’re becoming the mean one.” You gave Grayson an awkward smile as if to make up for it. Not that he cared much anyway- drunk Jameson Hawthorne wasn’t necessarily a once in a lifetime occurrence.

With only a little struggle, you managed to get Jameson off of you, though he insisted on keeping an arm around your shoulders. It was probably for the best, actually, because he couldn’t stand up on his own.

Nash approached the two of you, helping adjust Jameson to lean in a more comfortable position against you. “Sorry we let him… y’know. Get like this.”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind. He can be annoying sometimes, but it’s kinda cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” Jameson practically shouted.

“Yeah, adorable. Come on, let's get you home.”

He grinned, almost falling over. “Whatever you say, beautiful.”

It was a hassle to get him into the car and buckle up, then to get him to sit still the whole drive, then to get him out of the car. But you did it, despite his constant affection. You loved it, of course, but he was being a bit much.

You helped Jameson get to bed and he laid down with a groan, almost hitting his head on the headrest. Without speaking, you began to take off his shoes in an attempt to make him more comfortable. You figured he was half asleep already anyway.

Until you slipped off his suit jacket. It wasn’t worth changing his clothes entirely, since he probably wouldn’t cooperate, but you wanted to at least do something. As you took off the jacket, his half-lidded eyes looked up at you with a crooked smile. “Whatcha tryna do there, huh?

“Getting you comfortable. Don’t get any ideas.”

“Oh, I have a lot of ideas.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Save them for the morning.” You folded his suit jacket and set it on the dresser. Jameson wasn’t done talking. “But I don’t wanna wait. I want you, I want you now…” “Hm, too bad. Tomorrow, promise. But right now you’re drunk.”

“Hmph, fine,” he grumbled, rolling onto his side to face away from you like a grumpy toddler. You were almost tempted to record it- just for him to see in the morning, not for anyone else to see… probably. But you didn’t. Jameson deserved some shred of his dignity left after the other embarrassing things he’d done while drunk. And the things he was forced to do after not answering a 911 text from Xander.

Plus, you wouldn’t do something like that to your boyfriend. You loved him too much.

You checked the time. 2:39. It had been almost an hour. And it was very late. You should probably get back to sleep.

So you decided to change back into your pajamas, which you’d changed out of when you left to pick him up. Even if he was busy pretending to be mad at you, you could feel Jameson’s eyes on you as you undressed. Yet another laugh escaped you as you knew he was watching you, no doubt enjoying the view.

Ugh, how you loved him.

When you looked back, Jameson immediately turned back around as if he was caught in the act. You sighed, amused with his drunken antics, and laid down in the empty space next to him.

“I’ll be right here when you need me, Jamie.”

He doesn’t respond. The two of you just laid there together, even if you weren’t speaking. After a while, you thought he’d finally fallen asleep, and decided to get more comfortable and close your eyes.

That’s when he rolled over, eyes still closed, and wrapped his arms around you. He placed his head in your lap and sighed contently, not saying anything. There was no need for words. No need for explanation.

Jameson Hawthorne loved you.

He may have been drunk out of his mind, but he was sure of it.

#jameson hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne x reader #jameson x reader #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the grandest game #tig fanfic #tig #tgg #repost #mightier than your sword𓂃🖋

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chronicbeans · 2 years ago

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Wally Darling with a Restoration Project Reader (part 2)

You found a picture of the boi!

TW: Scopophobia/Eye Imagery

🗞️ Daniel gasps in excitement, shocking everyone in the little circle you made on Finn's living room floor. He shows everyone a picture that was restored by Amy, saying "Look! We finally have a picture of just Wally Darling! Nothing is obscuring him, either! We have a good idea of what exactly he looked like!"

🗞️ He passes it around, with you being the last to hold and look at it closely. A large blue pompadour, yellow skin, a colorful outfit made primarily of primary colors. He has a smile on his face, which isn't surprising, to be fair. He also doesn't have a nose, which you think makes him stand out a little bit more than he already does compared to the rest. Something seems off about his eyes, though... Not as though they were restored properly, just... Something.

🗞️ Amy speaks up, chuckling "He has big hair, like Julie! Maybe they are kinda like a duo? The big hair crew! There was a picture that mentions that he and Barnaby are best friends, though, right? So that little guess might be wrong." Finn nods "Yep. Wally and Barnaby are best friends. (Y/N), can I ask something? (Y/N)? Earth to (Y/N)!"

🗞️ You shake your head in shock, looking over to him. You didn't even notice he was speaking to you for a moment. "Yeah, Finn?" Finn shakes his head slightly, muttering with a playful chuckle "Always spacing out..." He then speaks up, looking at you with a serious expression "Well, I have noticed how your mom hasn't been acting too kindly about all this, especially after you mentioned it was to restore Welcome Home. Do you... Think she knows something? Maybe you can take that picture to her after we photograph it and put it on the website?"

🗞️"Oh! That... I am unsure. I'll show it to her. I just think she doesn't really like my hobby. She's someone who is very... I don't know... Traditional when it comes to jobs? Would that be the right term? You know, doesn't see art as a job, or writing, like I do. You get what I mean?" Amy cringes. "Oooh... Yeah, I get it. I get it. That sucks."

🗞️ Daniel perks up "You write, (Y/N)? I never knew that! Can you help out with the blog? You can write some of the stuff on it about the show. I would myself, but my written English isn't so good..." You tense up, only to nod "Okay... I don't really like my writing, though. Finn is making the blog, right? He can go over what I write." The group seemingly all agrees to it, before you leave to show your mom the picture.

🗞️ As you walk out to your car, you look at the picture, again. Those eyes... something is off. You just know it. You stare at it as you get into your car. You almost can't stop looking. You put your bag on top of the picture, feeling as though you'd just keep staring if you don't cover it.

🗞️ It's a very short drive. Your house is only a fifteen minute drive from Finn's. You go inside, hearing your mother call out from the kitchen "I see that you finally came back! Dinner is almost ready. Come, sit at the dinner table." You take off your coat and boots, walking over to the table and placing the picture on the table.

🗞️ Your mother walks in, placing a tray of food on the table. As she does so, she sees the picture. Her eyes widen as she asks "Sweetie, what is that?" You grin widely, explaining "Oh, it's Wally Darling, from Welcome Home! He's the main guy, I think. Why do you ask? Do you recognize him?"

🗞️ Her face suddenly morphs into a grimace. Her eyes are locked onto the picture as she speaks, her voice sharp "Why are you trying to find out about this Welcome Home nonsense? You'll never know exactly what came before it was forgotten! It's pointless! Even if you find out a lot, you'll never know it all! Why risk your life in search of a puzzle, which will inevitably still have missing pieces?"

🗞️ Your eyes widen "Risk my life? Mom, what are you talking about-?" She cuts you off "If I tell you too much, you'll simply be more intrigued! I know how you are, sweetie! I love you, I really do. I know how harsh I seem sometimes... but I am that way because I know that you will just wander into danger if I don't correct you! So just... stop with this nonsense!"

🗞️ She storms off, crying out "Just eat your food! I already ate, anyways! Don't bother me with this foolishness!" With that, you hear her slam the door to her room shut. The table is now left empty, besides you, the picture, and the dinner she made. You become lost in thought. Risk your life? Over a children's show? What an odd assumption to make over a little mystery. Why does she think that you would be put in danger if you continued searching?

🗞️ She said that if she told you too much, you'd be more intrigued. Well, she already failed. As much as you are now terrified of what could happen, you are still so much more intrigued about this mystery. Looking down at the picture of Wally, you make a silent promise to figure out more about this show, no matter what it takes.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader

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schismusic · 9 days ago

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SCHISMUSIC'S YEAR-END LIST OF BEST MUSIC 2024 NO CLICKBAIT NO VIRUS

This year was spent mostly on giving some time to stuff that I hadn't listened to on release, or that I'd actually listened to in the past but hadn't quite given my full attention. If I had to name names, I'd have to mention Drain Gang (specifically E by Ecco2k) for the first category, and Killing Joke or early Sunny Day Real Estate for the second one. It has still been a long year full of events and releases, some of which I have discussed in the past on this blog – you'll know them when you see them, or link to the main post for more in-depth opinions – and as such it feels appropriate, now more so than last year, to cook up a best-of year-end list.

youtube

I don't intend to exactly tie into any specific hype cycle, but neither will I be entirely out of hype in general. The idea is, these are records released in the year 2024 I've spent a lot of time with, usually not in a begrudging way for the most part. That is basically the sole principle by which a record gets picked for this list, because I don't really have the authority to evaluate records any other way. I just listen to a bunch of shit and if I like it, it's great for me and much less great for you, what can I say.

Pyrrhon - Exhaust

Nothing to do with the zeitgeist, nothing to do with good manners and common sense; it's death metal but played with as much boiling rage as any given band on AmRep in the '90s, entirely written and recorded live – which helps the single songs stay solid, consistent, eyes-on-the-prize, no-nonsense.

Tracks that hit like a jackhammer:

Out of Gas

Concrete Charlie

Not Going to Mars

Ulver - Liminal Animals

Third pop record (if we're only counting full lengths, which we shouldn't, since Sic Transit Gloria Mundi back in '17 was as much a certified banger as Assassination) by the Wolves of the North. This one benefits from a slightly less postmodern outlook and approach than the last two (or three), which makes it especially better than Flowers of Evil, and feels animated by a genuine sense of terror.

Tracks that spent a lot of time in my queue for a bunch of reasons:

The Red Light

Nocturne #1

Ghost Entry (honorable mention for the simple-yet-stunning Autechre remix)

Rude Cinno - Bassa qualità

This is, partially, shameless self-promotion, considering Rude Cinno have been more active as publicity agent for my own band than we ourselves were. This being said, the record is actually very good, sporting a very clear Sleaford Mods influence but playing the interesting card of Emilian folk music and dialect interspersed throughout the record. The result is a cute retrofuturist approach that makes it sound like William Gibson grew up in Castel Maggiore.

Tracks that made me laugh a bit, cry a lot, think very hard:

Curati

Titolo mancante

Miglior tempolinea

Sunrise Patriot Motion - My Father Took Me Hunting in the Snow

youtube

This record was already discussed in my worried music post, so that's a more in-depth treatment of it. For the purposes of this post, suffice it to say that this up-and-coming Noughties revival has, if anything, one good thing: the revelation that nu-metal in the right hands can be more of a toolbox than a music genre or a set of conventions. This and the sheer quality of the recorded performances (Andy Chugg on vocals especially shines with his anguished, horrified, eldritch yelling) simply tramples all criticisms.

Hard to pick any standout tracks, since this is a very short EP with two dungeon synth interludes out of four tracks. Works better in tandem with Sunrise Patriot Motion's first LP.

Resfeber - domani il sole

Deeper shade of shameless self-promotion here, in that Rebecca, singer for Resfeber, is also the singer for NUMBERS and the Operators, but the tracks featured here are more than competently written, arranged and played. Smooth jazz-funk that feels natural and lived in, elegant and direct. Short and sweet. (v)incenso, as a title, made me laugh quite a bit, and fortunately I do quite enjoy the track.

Shellac - To All Trains

youtube

Let's be real: this would have made this list even if it sucked royally. It does not suck royally, to no one's surprise. It sounds like a Shellac record (that is, it sounds great), it's played with consummate savoir-faire if not straight up somewhat bothered, it's got that ironic thing that Shellac as a band have been masters of since the very first seven-inch records. I don't think it would be warranted of anyone to ask anything more than this.

Tracks that made me realize these guys had still got it:

Scrappers

Chick New Wave

I Don't Fear Hell (RIP)

HONORABLE MENTION: Charli xcx - Brat

The entire media/publicity operation around this record has been played so much and for so long that it's impossible to cut it any slack at all by now (admittedly, not entirely through Charli or her own PR entourage's own faults). The remade record with the guests is impossibly bad and useless. The record's merch utilises the meme so much that it becomes absolutely tedious if not actively enraging if not shameful, plain and simple. The music takes the liberty to utilize a sound palette that's been pioneered by trans and nonbinary creatives – in Charli xcx's own music as well, sure – and then takes that sound palette to write a ballad about marrying a man and having children. The true miracle amidst all of this mess is that if you absolutely ignore all the noise around it and go back to the record, and by that I mean the actual recorded music, all of this ceases to be a problem when the record works as intended (usually during the noisiest, messiest bits of it all). RIP SOPHIE <3

AOTY: Ben Frost - Scope Neglect

On the nineteenth anniversary of his early breakthrough Theory of Machines, after A U R O R A yet again took the world by storm ten years ago and after 2017's The Centre Cannot Hold had some of the critics merrily proclaim that Ben Frost had "already given what he had to give", this guy comes out and at least tries to redefine his own main sound palette. I mean, realistically this all ties extremely well in his established MO so far – Steel Wound was heavily guitar based, Theory of Machines ostensibly and repeatedly sampled Swans, By the Throat translated black metal aesthetics into a heavily organic form of dark ambient that had more in common with John Carpenter's The Thing than it did with Transilvanian Hunger or any Burzum release, A U R O R A took that same sonic violence and applied it to the sounds of the hippest dancefloors on the Internet. This is really just the next logical step: Greg Kubacki's guitar work, on paper quite in line with what he usually does with Car Bomb, sears and maims throughout the whole forty-minute runtime and firebrands every second into the listener's brain. The electronic backdrop (as well as Liam Andrews from My Disco, offering his bass guitar for bludgeoning purposes) recontextualizes the whole affair from simple heavy onslaught into levels of aural violence that feel quite literally reality-bending while listening.

#musica #music #schismusic #schism writing #long form content #year end list #best of 2024 #pyrrhon band #ulver #rude cinno #sunrise patriot motion #shellac #shellac of north america #charli xcx #ben frost #Bandcamp

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ghostssweetgirl · 2 years ago

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crazy over you ~ simon ghost riley x reader

slow burn/enemies to lovers

taglist: @melaninsugababy @fruitymoonbeams-blog @copiasratscheese @wintersnnowie

description: y/n gets transferred to task force 141 and quickly becomes friends with soap and gaz, but her and ghost "hate" each other for the first part.

warnings: mentions of violence and death (duh), alcohol intake, smoking (at some point), nsfw (at some point | HERE), subtle flirting with soap. i'm new to writing? so don't expect this to be the greatest. this is not in line with the game campaigns or missions. the only characters i included are y/n, soap, gaz, price, & ghost. i have no knowledge of the military this is just creativity

disclaimer: i do not own modern warfare or any of its characters.

chapters: [worth it] last

You were more than happy to get out of that uniform. Casual clothes were never more comfortable than they were now. You packed up everything and stared at your empty room before exiting and following Ghost, crate in hand, to a car. He put the cat in the backseat and opened the door for you.

Sitting giddily in the passenger seat, you can't help but smile as you drive off of the base that has been your home for months now. If someone would have told you transferring to the 141 would result in this, you'd have slapped them silly. Punched them in the face for even insinuating that.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just... happy," you sighed. "Happy."

"Good," he nodded. "Me... too."

You directed him to your house - well, your small, boring apartment. It was awkward at first. Partly because he made sure to study everything you owned and everything about your place. He studied the two exits and made sure your windows were able to be locked. You assumed it was his way of learning you better, so you let it be. You tried to tour him around your tiny place, but he shook his head, determined to learn it on his own. But you found it funny how he had to duck when walking into the door, into the hallway, the bathroom, etc. The apartment ceilings were low, unfortunately. You never had issues and didn't even think about this until you brought him here. You sure as hell forgot to mention your full-size bed - compared to his California king, it was tiny.

The size of your bed didn't matter when you were making love. You were as close to him as you could get, even though you literally wanted to be under his skin - cuddling wasn't enough.

The size of your couch didn't matter when you were splayed across him while he lay on it.

As small as your home was, it was better with him there, but you honestly couldn't wait to go back to his. You preferred it there.

Buddy was shy at first, hiding for the first few days. You set up its litter box and food bowl, along with a spare pet bed you happened to have. He soon started getting accustomed and coming out for Simon more. It was cute how he said 'no' to having the cat but they've clung to each other.

Weeks go by fast. Every day was becoming routine, brushing your teeth together, and eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner with each other. Enjoying the same shows, recommending each other books. Showering together, bathing together even though it was quite cramped. Staying up late with each other talking about random things that came to mind, or, rather, you become a philosopher sometimes late in the night.

"Simon?" you whispered.

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"You awake?"

"Yeah, luv."

"Okay. Well, I was trying to sleep, but got to thinking."

"Oh my," he went along with your tired nonsense.

At first, it was funny, you tiredly rambling about random facts, world facts, conspiracy theories, the works. He listened to your rambles, your very groggy, quick mumbles about nonsense. But it quickly turned into him helping you fall asleep, your brain was moving faster than your mouth, becoming hyper.

He climbed over you lazily, grunting as he shuffled his knees behind your thighs. "Y'sound like you need help getting t'sleep, luv."

"Mm, yeah," you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His lips met yours fervently, softly sucking at your bottom lip. He ground into you, earning a small moan. His hand cupped your face, his fingers rubbed your soft skin as you leaned up begging for more. As you gripped at his tight skin, your hands snaked down his back before scratching up, he deeply grunted as his hands started squeezing your breasts to your hips, to your core. You gasped as his hand slid under your panties, his cold fingers meeting your clit.

He fingered you until he ripped three orgasms out of you, wetness seeping, pooling in a spot on the sheets beneath you. He took his pleasure in pleasing you - thoroughly studying your facial expressions as his fingers tactically explored your walls and sweet spots. He'd learned the spots that made you arch your back, the one that made you gasp - opening your mouth with no sound coming out, the one that made you squirt - gushing all over him.

Finally tiring you out, he went to the bathroom, washed his hands, and got new bedsheets. He helped you to the bathtub where he lovingly washed your sleepy self. As he dried you off and let you dress, he quickly changed the bedsheets for you before guiding you to bed, letting you nuzzle on his chest as you drifted off to sleep.

While eating dinner and watching TV, a camping commercial came up, and you two looked at each other, nodding your heads. It was time to head to his place. A good few-hour drive. You finished up the night, packing belongings, and this time, more clothes, able to dress to your style more now, being off.

The next morning, you coaxed Buddy out of his hiding spot and gave him a treat. "This time you're going home, Bud. No more moving around. I know, I know..."

After loading up the car, you take a last walk around your apartment, locking the doors and windows.

You could have predicted how careful he'd be while camping, being protective and watchful, keeping weapons on hand - his pistol holstered at his hip and tactical knife easy to grab. He finally freed himself from his mask once he felt comfortable enough with the surroundings, seeming at ease.

First, you went fishing with him. It was quite boring at first, patience not being much of one of your personality traits. Until finally, you caught a small one. You were proud of yourself but looked to him for approval, and he was already smiling at you.

"Good job, babe," he walked over to you, helping you undo the hook and then put the fish back in the water.

As the first night came to an end, you ended the night with smores and a couple of bottles of beer. You talked with Simon about how you never got to experience stuff like this and thanked him for taking you with him.

You cuddled with him in the tent, snuggled up close as the degrees dropped to cold temperatures. Sounds of crickets, cicadas, coyotes, and wildlife soothed you as you were enjoying this new aspect of your life.

Love grew deeper as memorable dates with you two continued. It grew deeper as you both catered to each other's love languages. His vulnerability also grew. Something, a part of him you never thought you'd see. Even in the beginning of this, even a sliver of info about him, his secrets, what makes him - him, was a treat, a rare treat.

Every day was different in all sorts of ways. Some days you were both lazy, understandably so. Some days you were active. Some days were very laughable, others calm, comfortable... quiet. But not the awkward, or unhappy quiet. Not the embarrassing quiet, or the "don't know what to do" quiet. The peaceful, understanding of each other quiet. The appreciating each other quiet. You made a look at him and he'd know what you want, need, or were trying to say. Vice versa.

Those quiet days were beautiful. The sounds of you both laughing at a movie, the sounds of you breathing. Buddy's pitter-patters across the hardwood floors. The randomness of conversation starters. Cheeky jokes. It all seemed quite natural, something you could get used to. Forever.

It hits you at random times, that this, this right here, this type of vulnerability, personal moments with Simon was only for the time off. You can imagine yourself being here with him. Waking up to him every day. Going to bed together every night. You knew he wouldn't do it, but you wouldn't mind quitting the military, getting a regular job, and living your life like this with him.

He woke you up in the middle of the night during the last month. Randomly asking you to join him in going to the snowy mountains in Colorado. A little surprised at the randomness, but also too sleepy to answer with a straight mind.

You were surprised when you woke up to all bags packed.

"Um, what is this?" you asked, pointing to the suitcases.

"Our bags," he answered, tilting his head at you. "Dress warm, luv."

"Okay..."

Though you've had a wonderful time with him so far, it hit you hard when you realized that it's getting too close to the three-month mark. Previously, you'd be excited to go back to work. You didn't know what it was, probably the fact that you'd fallen head over heels for your Lieutenant, but you wanted to stay like this, already missing him in his loving, domestic state. Him. Who he is.

Getting this far, and learning this much about each other has taught you exactly how much alike you two are. You've always liked nature, but appreciated it more when you got to enjoy it with him. You like being alone, and you can be alone with him. You both had walls built up, slowly letting each other seep into the crevices as you both fell.

Thinking back on everything, you would do everything over again for him. Neither would you change a thing. The tension, the heartache, the pain, the anger... Everything you've been through with and for this man was worth it. Thinking of other ways this could have gone causes you to wince. Wince and shrivel at the thought of not having him. Not having your Simon like that. The loving man you knew now, and wanted to keep around forever.

Proud to say that you've found your groove with each other, by the time you returned back to work...

He never failed to tell you he loved you before and after missions. He never had to distance himself anymore, since he could confide in you. Quite more protective over you, but still enjoys watching you fight and paint yourself red with the blood of your enemies. And now he didn't care about the other members knowing fully. If it wasn't obvious enough, you got princess treatment from the Lieutenant. Price held his hands up, refusing to get in between as long as it didn't interfere with jobs being done.

It wasn't until he stabbed a man charging at you, full speed while you were already busy with one fight, that you realized you were quite crazy over him, too. The force behind the swing of the blade against the throat, the quickness of it. The eye contact with you as the body drops, his eyes relaxing while he looks into yours.

"Fuck, that was hot, Lieutenant," you whispered as he pinches your chin, towering over you before he leads the way out of the building.

Thank you so much for reading!!!! I am grateful for each and every one of you that has taken the time to read this story, and even more grateful if you enjoyed it! I loved writing this story so much, it was a good one! <3

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