#I hate the top right one. ew.
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salubriousbean · 4 months ago
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Happy (late) school from me an my OCs!
Drew this for my friends at midnight before the first day
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burningcomputerpersona · 2 months ago
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ahhhhhhhh guess who made the mistake of getting a haircut
#i was planning on growing it out for real i swear#but then the back of my hair got to that length (like it always does) where it starts touching the back of my neck wrong and i cant stand it#so i figured I'd juuuuuust get a trim maybe only the back so it wouldn't keep bugging me#and it started off pretty good too she was doing well with everything and i liked the way it looked#then she asked me a question with two options. and i answered the question. and she repeated my answer. good enough right?#well i think she maaaay have forgotten my answer in the span of like 2 seconds bc she started cutting SUPER short suddenly#and now my perm is completely gone lol#i think she's used to going a bit shorter so it looks good in like a week when it's grown out a bit#and you don't have to go back for a haircut every 2 weeks#but like. i would rather not hate my reflection (more than usual) for a week or two while it grows out yknow#eurghhhh it's not that bad tbh ive had haircuts where i wanted to kill myself and this is just 'hmm maybe i should wear a hat for a week'#but still. very annoying. and especially so bc i was actually feeling optimistic with where we were going at the start#anyway there's this weird phenomenon that keeps happening where I accidentally get my hair cut too short#then i decide this is going to be the time i finally grow my hair out for real#and after a while the back reaches that length where it starts bothering me again#and ill get a haircut juuust for a trim#then i somehow end up with a bowlcut#it's an emo bowlcut to be clear. so im not super hung up about it bc i still love that haircut for reasons i cannot comprehend#but everybody else seems to go 'ew a bowlcut why' except for the alt queers who go 'omg gender'#which i consider to be one of the biggest compliments i could ever get. and have gotten. seriously that moment will never leave my mind#like having someone that you consider Gender to look at you and say *you're* very gender? my crops have been watered my cattle have been fed#etc etc. anyway this currently has the shape of a bowl cut but it's too short esp on top#so im back in my 'okay im gonna grow it our FOR REAL this time' phase again. as it goes. like fucking sisyphus.#anyway. im gonna be tearing it up in the pit at origami angel tomorrow so if anybody's also going feel free to join me there#just gotta let off some steam. goddammit i knew i should have gone the queer route and just done it myself. in my defense i still had a perm#and i didn't trust myself to cut curly hair. turns out i shouldn't have trusted the barber either bc she just held it straight out#and chopped right across. and soon the curls were gone and everything was straight. ...that sounds like a metaphor for conversion therapy#'yeah just head into that place by the time you leave you'll be straight'#anyway. sorry for the waterfall of tags if ur still here kudos to you and may you have a wonderful day#mine
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todayisafridaynight · 2 years ago
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arasawa 'but are they You Know' can be so funny check this out. literally any scenario involving ichiban being nosy
#snap chats#in the funniest and most ironic way i can say it its like when someones kids really wants their parent to be happy for once#yk what i mean there's like two ways a kid meeting a stepparent can go Abject Horror and Joy#i dont have to say who the first one is. i will though masato wants to scream Why Is Everyone But Me Happy#no listen if you've been reading the essays being posted here the past week i don think ichiban hates jo#and on TOP of that i think ichi thinks jo would be happy if he and arakawa could have One Nice Night and ergo he wont be so MEAN#just no worrying about the clan ichi and everyone else has it covered you can totally rely on them <- no you cant#its like when your parents go on vacation and you comedically wreck the house by accident while theyre gone#but then you SOMEHOW get it all fixed up right before they get home. cat in the hat kind of bullshit#i just think they should have their brooklyn 99 moment. you know the one#'RESPECTFULLY captain you and the boss need alone time'#jo doesnt even get what hes trying to say until he looks at mitsu who looks about ready to jump out the window yk#like 'aniki PLEAAASE shut the fuck up you're gonna get us hit'#and its BECAUSE they arent together Like That that its especially like Put A Cork In It You're Insane#in the alternate timeline/scenario where jo Does like arakawa like that i think ichi should be annoying about it too#listen if arakawa is the only thing that prevents them from maiming each other then it'll be fine#ichiban please be the worst wingman imaginable while jo tells you to leave him alone#hes going to bottle his emotions and store it in his chest and it'll just sit and ferment there until he dies#like are we seeing the potential here. its awful i cant open any new canvases or word docs EW#maybe if i finished my fuckin SHIT..
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motorsportbarbie13 · 2 months ago
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The Yapping Hour is Upon Us
In which Max decides that maybe doing interviews isn't such a bad thing.
Warnings: jos verstappen mention ew Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.5k plus social media posts
Series Master List Main Master List
TheYappingHour posted:
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349,219 likes liked by redbullracing, charlesleclerc, and others TheYappingHour Back at it this week with a very super top secret special guest. I simply can't wait to reveal who's on this weeks pod, you guys! You're going to DIE. (peep the clue in the second picture!) user928 her podcast set up is so aesthetic i can't user0928 RED BULL??? what does this meeeeeean??? >>>user1211 she hasn't done a ton of athletes in the past, maybe she got one of the Red Bull athletes!! user00291 DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN. (shhh let me be delulu for a minute) >>>user221 as much as i'd love that, we all know how much Max hates interviews.
There was absolutely no reason why having Max Verstappen on your podcast should be making you this nervous. You’ve interviewed actual heads of state, a former president, and royalty for crying out loud and you’re losing your mind over Max fucking Verstappen? You supposed it came from the fact that you had spent most of your childhood traveling from track to track to watch your dad race in NASCAR, racing was in your blood and you knew how revered and idolized Max was. And how rabid his fans could get. You wanted to get this interview right. Needed to get this interview right. Motorsport were still a huge part of your life, even if you weren’t really outwardly an active fan. You never missed a NASCAR or F1 race and while you considered yourself a Ferrari girlie, Red Bull was most certainly your second team. 
“Everything ready?” Your assistant Shannon pokes her head in as you fluff the last throw pillow on the cream colored lounge chair. Scanning the room, everything looks to be in order. The two overstuffed chairs dominate the center of the small recording studio, each with a microphone set up on a small side table next to each chair. Instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs floated out of small speakers tucked away and a few candles burned in the low light of the studio, creating the exact ambiance you were famous for. 
You’d been doing your podcast, The Yapping Hour, for nearly five years now and it was now one of the most popular podcasts being produced. You specialized in relaxed interviews of people that the general public don’t get to see relaxed very often. Your big break had come about 3 years ago when you had somehow managed to land an interview with Michelle Obama, her episode was still the most streamed episode of yours to date. Everyone had fallen in love with your interview style, how you got these normally highly media trained individuals to drop their guard down a little and be real for even just an hour. It gave people such a unique glimpse behind the curtain of fame and your fans ate up every bit of it. 
“I think so!” You nod, smoothing down the front of your boyfriend cut jeans even though the denim is perfectly ironed without a single wrinkle. 
“Good, because he just pulled in the parking lot.” Shannon smirks. She knows how nervous you are for this interview and is insisting it’s because you have a crush on the driver. Which would utterly unprofessional if it were true. But it wasn’t true. At all. “And he’s driving this matte black Aston Martin.” She closes her eyes as she bites her lip, smirk growing even wider. 
“Okay, let’s cool it on the hero worship.” You warn, following Shannon out into the lobby of the building. 
 Outside, it’s a dreary late April morning in the heart of downtown London. You had traveled from your home base in New York City just for this interview but had been surprised at how much you liked the ambiance and energy in the city. So much so that you had extended your stay a few extra weeks. The good thing about being your own boss of a podcast was that you could literally work from anywhere you had your laptop. 
Peering out into the parking lot, you’re surprised to see a lone figure in jeans and what looked to be a Red Bull windbreaker, hustling across the pavement towards the door. When he approaches the door, Shannons steps forward to open the door, a gust of wind whipping at your hair when Max comes bustling in through the doors. 
“Hello!” Max’s voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, a feeling you fight hard to shove down. This is not the time to be a fan girl, you remind yourself. 
“Hi Max, thank you so much for joining us today! Can I get you some water or maybe some tea?” Shannons steps forward first, extending her hand. 
Max takes it and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Water is fine, thanks.” 
“Max, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” You step forward then, the heels of your black Louboutain’s clicking on the hardwood floor as you approach him. It takes every ounce of focus you have not to react at what feels like a white hot spark flickering over your skin when his hand touches yours for the first time. 
“Pleasure is mine.” He murmurs, cat like smirk replacing the warm smile that had greeted Shannon. Your social media did you absolutely no justice and Max was finding it hard to keep his composure you were so pretty. 
“Are we waiting on anyone else or is it just you today?” You ask, eyes darting above his shoulder to see if there was anyone still in the parking lot. 
“Why? Will I be needing my body guard today?” He quips as he follows you towards the recording studio.  
You pray the dim lights in the studio hide the way you’ve gone pink. “Of course not! It’s just that normally the people I have on the show travel with an…entourage.” 
“I don’t like people.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious fact in the universe. “I prefer to travel solo. Besides, I’m no Queen of the Netherlands or Justin Trudeau, I don’t really need an entourage.” 
He casually drops two of your biggest interviews like it’s nothing and you feel the pink tinge of your cheeks heat to a crimson red. “You’ve listened to the show then?” 
He nods, taking the seat you offer him as Shannon and your AV guy Steve bustle around getting things set up. A bottle of water appears for each of you and you take out the pages of notes you’ve made even though you’ve got all the questions memorized. You like to be prepared and prefer your interviews to be more conversational, less question and answer. 
“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” His eyes hold this glint of mischief that if you were less of a professional, would have you biting your lip and kicking your feet. Truth was, Max had spent an ungodly amount of time on your socials and wikipedia page, obsessing over you and your career. 
“And yet you still came.” You tease.
“I did.” He says simply and you can’t help but notice how his gaze briefly drops from your eyes down to your lips and quickly back up. It’s so quick that if you weren’t in the business of watching and observing people, you probably would have missed it. But those baby blue eyes of Max’s are so easy to read, all you can do is grin back at him. 
“Well, thank you for making the trek into London today. I do appreciate it.” 
You briefly explain how the interview is going to work, how Steve is going to make sure everything is set up and recording, how you’ll post audio and video versions and that he can have final say in anything that goes in or stays out of the interview. You’ve found that a lot of your guests appreciate that little clause and in the five years you’ve been doing the show only a handful of bits have been kept out. You like to think it’s because you’re good at what you do and get people to open up on a level that they feel comfortable with. 
Steve finally gives you the okay and you settle into the cozy lounge chair, Max sitting comfortably in the one opposite you. 
“Thank you again for joining me today, Max. I’ve got to admit, I was a little surprised when your manager said you’d agreed to come on the show. You don’t do a lot of lengthy interviews and I could only find a handful of podcast appearances over the years. So, why The Yapping Hour? Why now?” 
Max takes a sip of water before placing it on the table beside him. His shoulders are relaxed, his ankle sitting on his knee is a causal pose. You’ve become a veritable body language expert since starting the show and you can already tell this is going to be a good interview. 
“I like your style.” His blunt answer throws you off for a moment and your cheeks heat. Again. You make a mental note to make sure they edit your complexion in post production to take the blush out. “GP sent me the one you did with Dale Earnhardt Jr a few months ago and I was impressed at how authentic you were. Dale is a character but you got a lot of depth out of him. Your questions went beyond the typical ‘what’s your favorite race track.’” 
“Well, thank you. That is quite the compliment coming from you.” For the third time in a short time, you blush at the compliments this man is handing out left and right. 
Your eyes flicker above Max’s shoulder to where Shannon and Steve sit, their smug faces tell you that you’re not imagining him flirting with you. 
“I have to tell you, I went karting with a few friends in prep for this interview and oh my God, I’ve been sore ever since! I can't imagine how hard an F1 car is on your body. Talk to me a little bit about your training sch-…”
“You went karting as research?” He interrupts you, face a mask of disbelief. 
Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Of course, I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You toss him a wink and enjoy the way your stomach flips when his ears go a bit pink. “My dad beat me by almost 20 seconds and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it, but it was worth it. I can see why so many people get hooked, it was so fun.” 
“Karting with a NASCAR legend had to make it a little better though, yeah?” 
“You know my dad?” Your brows nearly hit your hairline, you’re so surprised at this. Your dad had been long retired before Max had come onto the racing scene and there wasn’t a huge overlap in fan bases between F1 and NASCAR. 
Max nods, “He was racing around the time Jos was in F1. I still remember that one Daytona 500 where he stole the win from Earnhardt Jr on the last lap after he’d led for the entire race.” 
You tilt your head back laughing and Max thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard, fully entranced by the long column of your neck that’s suddenly exposed. “Oh God, dad is going to die when he hears you know about that race.” 
“Have either of you been to an F1 race yet?” A plan begins to form in Max’s head. 
“No!" You lean forward to swat at his arm playfullt. I’ve tried a few times but it’s always fallen through. I do watch most of the races though, as long as my schedule permits. Sometimes it’s easier when you guys are in Europe because the races are so early in New York, it’s easy to watch them from bed on Sunday mornings.”
The image of you wrapped up in a fluffy duvet wearing nothing but his t-shirt as you watch him race nearly sends Max into orbit. He blinks furiously, trying to get that vision out of his mind so he can pay attention to you. 
“Tell me this then, if you could pick any garage to watch the race which one would it be and why would it be Red Bull?" 
You can’t help that laugh that explodes from you then and Max preens under your attention, smile stretching wide across his handsome face. “You know, I could have sworn it was my name on the podcast Instagram page.” You tease, giving him a wink. “You keep asking me questions, I’m going to be out of a job, Verstappen.” 
“I can’t help it when the interviewer is much more interesting than I am.” He murmurs, taking another sip of water without taking his eyes off of you.
The rest of the interview continues on for the next two hours and you get so much content you feel a little dizzy at the thought of having to cut over half of the episode. For the first time in the podcast’s history, you may have to split this into two episodes. Max doesn’t mind one bit, finding that he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be with how easy he finds it talking to you. 
You wrap up the interview over an hour past the time you had told Max’s press officer it would last but neither of you make any movement to get up, despite both Shannon and Steve beginning to wrap things up. 
“I’m so sorry I kept you this long, Max. I know you’re not a huge fan of lengthy interviews.” 
Max just shrugs, “If all interviews were like this, I probably would say yes to a lot more of them.” 
You grin over at him as you rise, realizing the sun is setting outside and your stomach is aching for food. Max follows suit, although he feels a clench in his stomach realizing that his time with you is coming to an end. 
“Can I ask you something?” He says when Shannon and Steve walk out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone. 
You look up at him and nod earnestly, “Of course!” 
“Why didn’t you ask me about my childhood? Usually it’s one of the first things people ask me, especially in these kinds of interviews.” 
You shrug, face heating at being found out. “Like you, I do my research and I figured you might not want to talk about that part of your life. I want my guests to feel comfortable when they come on the show, not immediately put on the defensive. I guess I thought there were other more important topics…” 
Your words hang in the air, heavy between you two. Something in Max’s chest aches at the simple kindness you’ve extended him. It’s true, he doesn’t like revisiting his childhood very often, especially when it’s recorded and will be put on the internet. His dad was very much still in his life, obviously, and while he had done a lot of work to move past his childhood, it was still painful to talk about.  
“Thats…wow. Thank you.” Is all he can manage, voice thick with emotion. 
“Of course.” You murmur, reaching out to touch his elbow in what you hope comes across as a comforting gesture. 
Max’s eyes drop to where your slender fingers rest on his bare arm before a smile stretches back across his face. “I know it’s kind of last minute but you were saying earlier you’d never been to a race. We’re in Miami next weekend and I’d love it if you were my guest…” 
You can’t help the flutter in your chest at how nervous he appears standing before you. Your eyes dart over to Shannon, the official keeper of your schedule and are delighted when she nods vigorously, phone in hand with your calendar already pulled up. You made a mental note to give that girl a raise ASAP. “I would love to, Max.” 
“Yeah?” He sounds almost shocked that you had agreed so quickly. 
“Yeah.” You say, a hint of a giggle at the edge of your voice. 
“How about I take you out to dinner tonight and we can work out the details.” 
“Why Max Verstappen, I had no idea you were this smooth.” 
TheYappingHour posted
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987,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, susiewolff, and others TheYappingHour SURPRISE! Part one of my interview with none other than 3 time F1 world champion Max Verstappen is live on all socials RIGHT NOW. (yeah, I said part 1! We both yapped so much you're getting a part two next week!) user9382 the chemistry between these two was OFF THE CHARTS >>>user111 ikr? i felt like i was interrupting something the entire hour. MaxVerstappen1 it was a pleasure meeting you! can't wait to see you in Miami this weekend! >>>user2999 MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HER IN MIAMI. >>>user999 stfu she is so coming to the Miami race?? MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN. user3210 has she ever done a two parter before??? not even the Queen of the Netherlands got a two parter!! user9928 i don't think i've ever seen Max this relaxed during an interview EVER. >>>user222 seriously! He was like a little boy with a crush then entire time.
yourpersonalinsta posted
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234,100 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, michelle obama, and others yourpersonalinsta we yapped some more and stuffed our faces. til next time, maxie! (tagged: maxverstappen1) user999 not michelle obama herself in the likes maxverstappen1 you're going to be trouble in miami, aren't you? >>>yourpersonalinsta what do you think? ;) >>>user9932 oh my godddddd user028 this is the couple i didn't know i needed
tag list (some of you only requested to be on a series tag list but i am not organized enough for that. lmk if you want to be removed!! also fingers crossed this tag list works this time ffs. sorry!)
@anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream
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0097linersb · 6 months ago
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Sour Candy (m)
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Pairings: Mingi x Reader
Genre: Smut
Word count: 5k~
Warnings: Very very very needy Mingi, wouldn't say exactly sub!mingi but kind of sub!mingi u know, good boi´s just very desperate. consent lines are kind of blurred in this one so pls skip if it makes u uncomfortable, this was just written in like an hour with absolutely no thoughts or grammar-checking, head empty only filled with crying whiny men <3
Follow me on twitter: wooyosgfreal <3
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
“What time did Yunho say he was coming back again?” You asked for about the fourth time that afternoon. 
“In like an hour or two,” Mingi answered patiently like he did all the other times you asked before. “Bro, why do you hate me?” 
“Because you keep making me play this boring game and it really fucking sucks.” 
“That´s just because you´re bad at it.” 
“You´re literally worse than me.” 
“Maybe modernity was wrong all along, maybe women really shouldn´t be allowed to have opinions.” 
“It is a fact, not an opinion. Maybe you men should still be in planes being shipped off to war and leave us alone.” 
“Fine. Do you want to play something else, princess?” 
“Let´s play Overcooked,” You squealed.  
Mingi didn´t even groan this time when you mentioned the game you and Seonghwa were obsessing over lately, simply going back to the home screen on Yunho´s Playstation and looking for the colorful icon. He knew there was no arguing with you. 
While the game was loading, Mingi handed you the main controller and stood up, fixing his shirt that had scrunched up and stretching his back, “Set everything up, I´m gonna go find some snacks.” 
You happily did as told, driving your little animated truck towards the level you had last failed at and playing with your phone to wait for your friend, at least until your vision was blocked by said friend pushing a red plastic bag in front of your face. 
“What´s that?” You asked, already reaching into the bag and picking up one of the soft candies inside. 
Mingi simply shrugged, already chewing on one of the jellies, “Dunno, found them in the kitchen. They´re pretty good though.” 
You trusted his words, popping the candy into your mouth and waiting for the flavors to kick in - and hell you wish you didn´t. 
“Oh my god this is disgusting,” Your face contorts in distaste. 
“It´s cinnamon,” Mingi stares you down, clearly not amused.  
“Yeah, with candle wax. Ew.” 
“Just swallow it and stop being a baby.” 
“I will literally kill myself.” 
He gave you another judgmental glare and sat down next to you on the couch once again, already reaching for his third candy from hell as you forced yourself to let it slide down your throat. You handed him the main remote and picked up the secondary one, coughing to see if flowing some air into your lungs would get the taste of rotten papaya out of your mouth.  
“Maybe it´s poison that Yunho left out as a trap because you keep stealing his food.” 
“Nah, it was right on top of the counter,” He waved it off, pressing play on the game. 
“My point stands.” 
“Yeah, whatever.” 
“You´re very eloquent today.” 
“You´re very annoying today.” 
“The salmon Mingi, the fucking salmon!!” 
“I´m getting it!” 
“Bro, you gotta throw it!” 
“Fuck. I know, but if I leave the fucking rice is going to burn.” 
“I´m throwing you more rice.” 
“I don´t need it.” 
“Yes, you do. Oh my god.” 
“What I do need are some clean plates.” 
“Oh, yeah. On it.” 
“Why do you like this game?” He groaned, cleaning the sweat from his forehead and reaching for another candy in the bag. “You´re making me stress eat.” 
“Doesn´t it make you feel pumped?”  
“Yeah, pumped to punch the TV.” 
“We have one more minute, we can do it if you stop being dumb.” 
“There are literally two plates on the counter ready to go and you haven´t delivered them yet.” 
“Jeez, done. Can you slice me some tomatoes?” 
“One sec,” He answered, mouth full of yet another candy. 
“It would be faster if you would just stop eating.” 
“We´re not making it anyways, let me enjoy one thing at least.” 
And he was right: a few seconds later the TV screen was filled with the sad numbers displaying how you didn´t reach the minimum score - didn´t even come close to it in fact. 
Mingi let out his frustrations by popping the nth white jelly past his lips and you stared at him in disgust, reaching for the bag to understand what that malevolent creation even was.  
“Huh...” 
“What?” He asked. 
“Hm, I mean, this is all in German or Dutch but I´m pretty sure this word means aphrodisiac.” 
“Come again?” His mouth was hanging open mid chew, unblinking eyes staring at you. 
“Hm, yeah. Wasn´t Yunho´s friend just in Amsterdam? The one with the big smile? Maybe he brought those as a souvenir, since you know, it´s Amsterdam. Like, ‘haha look at this candy that makes you horny´.” 
“Oh, yeah. But it´s like a placebo touristy thing, right?” He laughed nervously. “Like, these won´t actually make me horny, right?” 
“Nah, I don´t think this kind of stuff works. It´s probably just for shit and giggles. Do you feel any different?” 
“I don´t know, my heart is beating faster. I think I´m going to die.” 
“Mingi, relax. Now it´s probably just because you´re nervous.” 
“No, what if there´s some kind of drug in these? I ate almost 10 of them! Oh my god I´m going to die. Am I going to overdose, Y/N? What if I start hallucinating?” 
He was being a bit overdramatic, but he did have genuine concerns. 
“Wait, let me call Yunho.” 
Mingi didn´t even hear you, too busy at his own pity party as he whined and stared at the bag´s labels like he could suddenly speak Dutch.  
“Y/N?” Yunho´s voice filled your ears. 
“Hm, hi. Sorry to bother you at work but we´ve kind of got a situation.” 
“Oh my god, did Mingi break my door playing with the bar? I already told him-” 
“No, nothing like that. Huh, do you know that candy that you left on the kitchen counter?” 
“What? No. What cand- Oh. Oh.” 
“Huh, yeah. So... Mingi found it and ate like 10 of them?” 
“Y/N.” 
“Is that bad? He´s kind of freaking out, he´s afraid there´s like drugs in them or something.” 
“There are some stimulants in them but like, in minor quantities. He won´t die because of it. But bro, bro.” 
“What?” You whined, Yunho´s tone making you anxious. 
“He had 10 of them? San had like 3 and said he was at it for hours.” 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah, oh.” 
“So I guess these do work, huh?” 
“Haven´t tried them, but from what San says it´s some strong shit. Did you take any?” 
“Just like one, tastes like organic trash.” 
“Yeah, good. Let me know how it goes, please just stay out of my bedroom.” 
“Your bedroom? Why would- What are you trying to imply, Jeong Yunho?” 
“Oh shit, client calling. Byeee,” He laughed. “Stupid.” 
As soon as you put your phone away, Mingi stopped talking to himself like a mad man and stared at you with big hopeful eyes. 
“I have good news and bad news.” 
“Am I going to die?” 
“That´s the good news: no, you´re not. No.” 
“And what are the bad news?” 
“Apparently you will get very horny, though.” 
He froze at your words, looking down at his pants, “I don´t feel it, though.” 
“Maybe you won´t, it might be different for everyone,” You shrug, standing up and grabbing your sweater. “All I know is that I am leaving because if it does happen, that´s not a sight I want to be here for.” 
“Please no,” Mingi whined, literally throwing himself on his knees to catch your arm before you could walk away. “Don´t leave me alone here. I just ingested unknown substances, what if my body reacts badly and I actually die? What if I throw up and drown in my own puke here all alone?” 
Once again, over-dramatic but right.  
“Yeah, you´re right,” You sighed. “I would still rather die than see you with a boner so here´s what we´re gonna do: I´m locking myself in Yunho´s room and you can freely roam the apartment and do whatever you want, I´ll check up on you every few minutes. Sounds good?” 
“Yeah, ok,” Mingi agreed. 
“Also, if you´re going to like - ” You motioned vaguely towards his pants hoping he would get what you were trying to say. “Give me a heads up so I can put on some earphones.” 
“Oh my god,” He whined in shame, cheeks going flush. “Yeah, ok.” 
“Ok, good. Huh, bye,” You awkwardly waved as you made your way towards Yunho´s room. “Good luck.” 
You closed the door behind you, hearing as Mingi opened some other game back in the living room. There was not much to do in Yunho´s room so you decided to lay in bed and scroll through Tiktok until Mingi stopped thinking he was going to die and you could leave. Also, you did eat one of the candies too, so you guessed that if they did work, you would feel it as well. 
10 minutes later you still heard Mingi normally playing and cursing outside, but you still decided to yell out an “Everything good?” just to be sure. 
“Yeah!” Was his answer. 
Another 15 minutes went by, and you shot him a text. 
Not dead yet? 
Mings: Still good, I don´t think these things actually work. 
Maybe Yunho was just messing with us.  
Mings: Yeah, fucking asshole. 
You went back to watching your silly little videos, not even noticing the time passing or how everything suddenly went quiet outside. Over half an hour had gone by when your ears finally perked up at the lack of your friend´s loudness.  
You sat up in bed worried. 
You good? 
No answer. 
Mingi? 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
You were already picturing his dead body looking all stupid on Yunho´s carpet, thinking about how you were going to explain to the paramedics that he died because he ate too much horny candy.  
No, even worse: How would you explain this to his family? 
Oh, no. Not your best friend. How would you live without him? You liked teasing him and you bickered a lot but you love- 
Your little spiral of insanity was interrupted by a knock on the door and your body was finally able to move after how it had been paralyzed with fear for a few minutes. 
“Mingi?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh, thank god. You scared the shit out of me,” You took a deep breath in relief, staring at Yunho´s white door. “What´s up?” 
“Huh, can I come in?” 
You furrowed your eyebrows at his tone.  
Something sounded weird about this.  
“Sure,” You answered skeptically.  
Mingi opened the door and came in, head cast down and gaze not meeting your eyes. 
“What´s wrong-” You started asking worriedly, about to jump out of the bed to go check up on him before your eyes finally zeroed in on the very prominent bulge in his pants. “Song Mingi! What the fuck?” 
“I- I don´t know what to do,” His eyes finally met yours, cheeks tinted in pink and hands trembling. He looked at you like a kicked puppy.  
“And what do I have to do with it? Go deal with it yourself. Eeew, we talked about this,” You raised your hand in the air to try and block the bottom half of Mingi from your line of vision.  
“I already did,” He groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. “Twice.” 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah. Nothing fucking works - and also, I just can´t stop thinking about you.” 
“What?” You never heard your voice go so high before. “Nuh uh, we´re not going there. Absolutely not.” 
“I´m not happy about it either, ok?” His fingers were squeezing the corner of the door so thigh they were almost white. “Just please, help me out this once. Please.” 
Oh. 
Oh. 
Oh. 
You just prayed that the reason you started clenching around nothing was because the candy was finally kicking in and not because stupid Song Mingi was practically begging in front of you. 
“No!” You screeched, weirded out by your own sudden reaction. “This isn´t you talking, it´s just th stupid candy, you´ll regret it after it wears off -” 
“No but I won´t,” He disagreed, closing the door and rushing towards you like a madman in three large strides. 
You had never seen him like this, you never once in a million years could have gone as far as even imagining the look in his eyes right now. 
“Fuck. It´s just - your skin is so soft, you know?” Mingi pushed the covers to the side so his hand could squeeze your thigh, his knees dipping into the mattress as he crawled on top of you. You were too shocked to move away, frozen in place with your mouth open wide, not really knowing what to do as he rubbed the palm of his hands up and down your skin, squeezing it occasionally with a heavy breath like he had just reached heaven´s gate. 
“Mingi,” You warned, but your voice didn´t sound that threatening anymore. 
“Please, just once,” He breathed out, practically rubbing himself against your body like a cat in heat forcing you to slowly lie back in the bed, his hands gently guiding yours over your head as you slid down. You looked up at his glazed eyes, at the way his hands were shaking around your wrists, the way he was discreetly rutting against your thigh without even realizing he was doing it. He looked so vulnerable and frenzied – And it was doing something to you. 
“Mingi,” You whined, not even sure what you were trying to say or do. 
“You kept walking around with this white top all day,” He let out a broken groan, looking down at said top. “Your boobs look amazing in it. I just- I – Can I?” 
His begging eyes were enough to get you automatically nodding before even realizing what you were agreeing to - When you did process what he was asking for though, his right hand was already squeezing your boobs and kneading at them like his life depended on it, his calloused fingers firm on your body. You could feel how hard he was every time he subconsciously ground against you, shaky hot breaths leaving his lips and hitting the sensitive skin on the side of your neck where his plump soft lips kept lightly brushing against with every move. 
Mingi took advantage of the position, sucking against your vein and leaving pleas in the form of little kisses around your skin. His thumb played with your nipple and your hands were still abandoned on top of your head against the sheets, not sure if you would really let this happen yet - but Mingi didn´t seem to mind, too lost in worshipping you into compliance.  
“I need to fuck you. Like, right now. I´ll - I´ll make you feel good too, I promise,” The shakier and breathier his voice sounded the wetter you got. “I promise. I promise. Please. We -we don´t even need to fuck I can – I can – Let me – Just the tip- Anything-” 
“Just the tip?” 
“Yeah,” He eagerly nodded, his eyes so hopeful you could melt. 
“Ok,” You agreed, physically not being able to say no to his pleading eyes.  
“Fuck,” He groaned in surprise, not actually thinking you would agree to it - But since you did, he wasted no time and made quick work of practically ripping your cotton short down your legs in one harsh tug. “Under normal circumstances I would, you know – But, I – right now I – I can´t.” 
“It´s ok,” You assured, afraid he would actually cry if you made him wait another single second with how desperate he was. 
He hooked his finger on the bottom of your panties and pushed them to the side, not even being able to take them out. He stared at your pussy for a moment, his eyes looking even more insane than before at the sight, like he would actually growl at you. 
“Fuck,” Mingi cursed as he went out of the little trance he was in, pushing his sweater pants and boxers down in a rush - once again not even bothering with taking them all out.  
And oh fuck. 
His cock was so hard you could imagine how it actually hurt; it throbbed against the skin of his abdomen without even being touched, looking swollen and angry with all the veins surrounding it - And man were you glad you agreed on just the tip because there was just no way that would fit without a lot of preparation first. Even with how wet you were right now. Who knew? 
Mingi leaned on top of you once again, one arm supporting the weight of his body in between your legs as he gently guided his dick up and down your folds, his eyes closing at the feeling, a violent shiver taking over his thighs and up his spine with a loud groan.  
Like he had absolutely no control over his body, Mingi positioned himself against your entrance, slowly pushing just a little bit in as promised. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” His groans sounded so raw against your ear as he cursed over the initial resistance of your walls, his forehead meeting your neck to try and ground himself. 
You even let a moan out yourself because this was absolute madness, it felt insane. Your whole body was buzzing like you were electrified, your fingers ached to scratch Mingi´s back and pull him all the way in - Damn, those candies were good.  
And you only had one. 
“Y/N, fuck,” Mingi gasped as he started moving his hips in shallow little thrusts so he wouldn´t break your agreement. “Ah - Ah. I can´t think strai - You´re so pretty. Fuck, fuck.” 
His lips met your neck once again, messy kisses full of saliva and teeth as he shuddered on top of you, leaving marks that would soon turn purple. You could feel how tense every single muscle in his body was as he fought against himself to not rut deeper into you every time he moved, and you were biting onto your lip so hard to keep the noises inside that you could taste blood.  
“Thank you, thank you,” You shivered at the way cold air hit your neck when Mingi pulled back a bit to look you in the eye, “Can I go ah- a little deeper, please? Just a little. It feels so good, I need ah- more. Fuck.” 
“Mingi.” 
“Please,” He cried out and you just couldn´t believe the sight in front of you. 
Tall big strong Song Mingi with the deep voice, reduced to a disheveled delirious mess. His ashy blond hair rumpled, his cheeks burning pink and skin glistening with sweat, his pupils huge and shiny and he just looked so disheartened that it was breaking your heart to not let him just use you however he wanted.  
“I need you,” He agonized, his right arm clinging onto your shoulder like you would run away from him if you could, so out of it that he was already pushing deeper into you without even noticing, eyes shut so tightly at the sensation of your walls around him. “Please, please, please, please,” It was like a mantra. 
He was far gone. 
And kind of so were you. 
You whine in pain and raspy moans left Mingi´s soft lips every time he thrust back into you, hitting farther each time, “I´m sorry, baby. I´m sorry. You can take it right? Ah – Just a bit more, I promise. Fuck. I´m almost ah- in. Why do you smell so good? It´s driving me ah – insane.” 
It hurt, it did hurt, but you also didn´t seem to mind that he was practically splitting you open when his voice sounded this pretty apologizing for it. 
The speed and strength of his hips started picking up to match his urgency, his plush lips were open so captivatingly and his weight was now supported by both arms so he could pistol into you. He didn´t have a specific angle or rhythm to it, his moves were strictly instinctual and carnal, your nails finally finding your way down his back to keep yourself anchored to reality. 
“You´re so so so beautiful, fuck. Your lips - can´t stop thinking about them around my ah- cock. Will you show me?”  
You loved how broken his voice sounded. 
“Yeah, baby. Whatever you want.” 
He shuddered once again at your words, “I´m so close.” 
“Me too,” You nodded, still doing your very best to not let noises of pleasure escape past your lips – and kind of failing. 
“Let me hear you,” Mingi growls, managing to somehow snake his hand in between your bodies to start drawing quick circles on your clit. “Please, I love your voice.” 
You wouldn´t be able to hold back even if you wanted to.  
His chaotic rhythm had an appeal of its own, every broken moan that left his mouth drew you closer to the edge until you finally reached it. Your vision went black, nails digging into Mingi´s biceps so harshly you would feel bad for it later, every muscle in your body tightening as it all washed over you in a devastating wave, leaving your body in the form of gasps and breathy moans. 
“Oh my god, fuck,” Mingi cursed at the way your walls were clenching so tightly around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 
He wouldn´t slow down and you were still coming down from your high, twitching with the aftershocks as the oversensitivity quickly began to rise, but you decided to ignore it the best you couldand push through it - you could tell Mingi was close anyway with the way his thrusts became even more erratic, and his voice went up with every moan.  
You were mesmerized by his glossy unfocused eyes, the frown on his forehead, so frantic to get what he needed by ramming into you. He looked so pretty like this, you wanted to destroy him-  
Wow. 
Wait. 
Now where did that come from? 
“Shit, I´m gonna- Fuck, fuck.” 
You watched as his whole body froze for a second before violently shaking, his eyes shot so tightly he was probably seeing white as he continued thrusting into you to ride his orgasm to the end as you felt something warm hitting your walls. And his moans, oh his moans – I mean, you were not deaf, you had always been well-aware that Mingi had an attractive voice, but to hear it like this, so raw and relieved, was truly something else. 
Mingi let out one last broken cry as he slowly stopped moving, dropping his weight on top of you to catch his breath, chest heaving up and down against your ribcage as his muscles continued twitching here and there. You took advantage of the moment to get yourself together too, stabilizing your breathing and trying to figure out what the hell just happened as you two went down, but you also kind of expected Mingi to say something or try to joke around a bit to lessen the burden of the fact that the two of you just fucked - and when he didn´t, well, you started getting worried. 
You were mustering up the courage to say something after the two minutes of silence when the last thing you expected to happen, happened.  
Your eyes were blown wide, “Mingi-” 
“I can´t stop, I´m sorry-” He whined, his still rock-solid cock now slowly moving inside of you once again, rutting into you like he had absolutely no control over himself. 
He was still hard? 
Wasn´t this like his third time already? 
His whole body was shaking in overstimulation but he wouldn´t stop grinding into you, “I´m sorry.” 
“Mingi,” You tried pulling away from him thinking that´s what he was asking for. 
“No, don´t. Ah- Need you,” He desperately grabbed onto your thighs and wrapped them around his hips, your chests flushed against each other's as he hid his forehead on your neck to keep fucking deep into you. Literal whines of pain were leaving his lips, it was like he was an animal incapable of rational thoughts, and it was making you feel dizzy. 
“Mingi, love. You´re going to hurt yourself.” 
“No, feels so ah- Just one more,” He moaned, body shuddering. His whines got you clenching involuntarily around him, suddenly realizing you were kind of close to the edge already. “Please.” 
You felt a strong bite on your shoulder disguising a groan, the animalistic act crashed with how smoothly he was sliding in and out of you, but it also showed how deranged he was at the moment. You tightened your thighs around Mingi´s hips and pulled at the hair on his nape, not bothering with trying to cover up your moans anymore. 
Mingi took the action as permission and started gradually moving his hips faster, broken little whines getting louder and more frequent each second until he was once again supported by both his arms and pistoling into you.  
“I can´t - I can´t,” His voice was so shaky, so broken. “I - Please.” 
And then your whole world stopped as you watched the first tear roll down Mingi´s cheek. 
You were mesmerized, you wanted to frame it.  
“It hurts,” He whimpered, another tear falling, followed by another and then another.  
“You´re almost there,” You cooed, deciding to be useful to the poor giant man breaking down on top of you. “Aren´t you? So close.” 
Mingi nodded, blinking harshly to clear his vision which resulted in more tears running down his face. You just couldn´t help supporting your weight onto your elbow so you could lean up and hold his jaw, kissing the salty traces across his cheeks until his face was clean. He immediately started shaking, moans growing whinier and choppier, his thrusts started losing their patterns as he plowed into you like his life depended on it, entering a mental state he never knew existed before. 
His right hand grabbed your thigh with enough force to bruise it badly as he came for what you imagined was the fourth time in an hour, holding you so close that you could feel his cock hitting impossible places deep inside of you. Mingi was breathing so hard you were kind of worried for his well-being but the noises leaving his lips assured you he was feeling pleasure at least as his nose found its place on your neck once again. 
“Feeling better?” You asked once he had calmed down a little. 
“Kind of,” He pushed back to look at you with a low chuckle, his eyes looking a tad bit saner already. “But I also kind of need to eat you out.” 
You felt his dick twitch inside of you at his own words and how the fuck was that even possible? 
A painful whimper left his lips at the slight stimulation, already way past oversensitive, “Please?” 
 He had the nerve to pout. 
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swampthingking · 10 months ago
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can’t study for my test because i’m having brain rot about neil accidentally getting super drunk and stumbling up to aaron like “andrew???” and aaron is like “wrong one” and neil is like “andrew.” and aaron is like “???? are you stupid” and neil goes to look for andrew but he stumbles into the table, and aaron has to catch him or he will get trampled for fucks sake, and neil just collapses into him in a drunk cuddly heap. and aaron is like “neil. you need to stand up” and neil is like “i am” and aaron is like “that’s because i’m holding you up” and they get neil to stand but neil kinda just flops into aaron’s arms again. and neil is like “i don’t hate you, i don’t, but it’s okay if you hate me” and aaron is like “ugh, ew are you really an emotional drunk???” and neil, to aaron’s horror, looks at him with tears in his eyes because you know when you’re too drunk and you kind of just get a little scared and you need help???? ya. and aaron is like … ok. and kinda holds neil until andrew comes back from the bar with more drinks. and he sees neil basically asleep on aaron’s shoulder, and aaron looking uncomfortable but accepting, so he kinda raises an eyebrow, an okay? and aaron nods and is just patting neil on his back
and tomorrow they’ll wake up and neil will toddle downstairs with his hand against his temple and aaron will have advil ready for him, and he’ll say “you’re annoying and you don’t know when to shut your mouth or mind your own business, but i don’t hate you” and the thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for staying goes unsaid but yeah
and that’s how aaron and neil became kind of friends
edit: vomited out a one shot for y’all (this will prob become a 5+1)
Aaron swirled his drink a few times, listening to the ice clacking against the glass.
Eden’s was packed tonight, courtesy of it being the end of the school year. College students and the regular patrons flocked to the bar, the dance floor, and all of the tables, leaving Aaron to reserve a high-top table, and his legs to dangle from the stool.
“Drew?”
Aaron ignored him in favor of the twinkling sound the ice makes in his glass. He’d already taken shots, danced, had another drink, danced again, and now Aaron’s body was heavy with alcohol and exhaustion.
“Drew,” Neil said again.
Aaron looked around their table and didn’t see Andrew. He remembered Andrew getting up and walking to the bar with their empty tray. Aaron found him a few seconds later, hands in his pockets at the bar. That and Neil, staring up at him, looking uneasy.
Before Aaron could tell Neil to get out of his face, Neil was speaking.
“Are you’nt having fun?” Neil frowned, blinking sleepy, hooded eyes at him. He leaned closer to study Aaron’s face.
“What are you doing?” Aaron grumbled, pushing Neil’s face away.
Aaron hadn’t even pushed him hard, he more removed Neil from his space rather than pushed him, but Neil wobbled like his world had tilted out of orbit. Aaron realized, quickly, that Neil was going to fall backwards. He grabbed two fistfuls of Neil’s shirt and pulled him forwards. Neil’s head lulled on his shoulders with the force, his chin hitting his chest then righting itself.
Aaron’s stomach lurched, sick with the thought that someone had put something in one of Neil’s drinks, as he would for anyone, but thankfully he’s never been put in that situation. Neil’s eyes were hooded, his face flushed. Aaron snapped once at Neil’s ear, and Neil recoiled immediately.
“Does your head hurt or anything?” Aaron asked. Neil shook his head, frowning.
“Are you dizzy? Follow my finger.” Aaron pushes Neil back so he can see his face, keeping one hand on Neil’s shoulder to hold him up. Neil follows Aaron’s finger as it moves back and forth, albeit a little labored, but not as if he’d been roofied. Aaron declares that Neil’s reaction times and responses are fine, but he still pulls the front of his shirt up and checks his belt, the button of his pants.
“What—?” Neil slapped a hand on his abdomen, stopping his shirt from being lifted any higher. Aaron didn’t need to see anything but his pants, but it was reassuring that Neil still had inhibitions.
His clothes were fine. His belt was still done, zipper up. No one had tried anything. Aaron relaxed.
“Sorry,” Aaron said. “Sorry, I just needed to…”
While racking his mind back to why Neil is this drunk, Aaron remembered Neil taking shots with Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin. Four shots. He’d seen Neil sip on another drink like the idiot had the tolerance for alcohol that the rest of them had.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Aaron said and released Neil. Neil attempted to step back, his hands raised in surrender.
“No?” Neil asked warily. Even drunk as fuck, he still respected boundaries. Andrew’s boundaries specifically, as it still hadn’t registered that he wasn’t talking to the right twin.
“I’m not Andrew,” Aaron said.
“Where’s Andrew?” Neil asked, turning his head pathetically in search. Aaron only had a good view of Andrew because they were seated at a high-top. Over the throng of taller people coupled with strobing lights, Neil’s view was obstructed.
“At the bar,” Aaron nodded in that direction.
Neil turned towards the bar. Well, he attempted to. He pivoted, lost his balance, and toppled into the table. He tried to right himself and started to fall to the other side. Aaron caught Neil before he could bust his shit and get trampled.
“Jesus Christ, Josten,” Aaron spat, righting Neil with hands on his biceps. Neil slapped a hand on the table and leaned his weight on it. The table quaked under such abuse, but held.
Neil turned slowly, grappling against the table as if he was standing in one of those spinning fair rides. In his excursion to simply spin 180°, his hand slipped off the edge of the table as he faced Aaron once again. He reached for the table, missed, reached for it again, missed, said, “Motherfucker,” under his breath, and finally gripped onto the edge. His eyes locked on Aaron’s again, and Neil’s useless hand landed on Aaron’s shoulder.
“Andrew,” Neil said. Aaron didn’t know if it was more a request or if it was just not registering.
“Wrong,” Aaron said, tense under Neil’s hand, but he didn’t push him off. He’d rather hold Neil up than peel him off the floor. “Aaron.”
“‘m very drunk,” Neil said, looking up pleadingly at Aaron as if he had a magical cure to shitfacedness, and all Neil had to do for it was look a little scared. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Aaron asked.
“I’m drunk.”
Aaron snorted. “That’s kind of the point when you’re at a bar.”
“But,” Neil said, taking a labored breath, “I’m…too drunk.”
This was beginning to feel exceedingly similar to speaking to a child. Aaron was annoyed, but not completely heartless, unlike the narrative of Aaron Neil had likely concocted. “It’s okay, Neil,” Aaron said. “You should sit down.”
Neil promptly sat as if there was a chair under him, but there was not. Aaron, still holding Neil vertical, got pulled out of his chair with the momentum. To avoid toppling to the ground—which did not get mopped as often as it should—Aaron planted his feet on the floor and hauled Neil up by his armpits.
“Help,” Neil murmured. His arms dropped to his sides as he yielded his dead weight to Aaron.
“Stand up,” Aaron grunted, readjusting to wrap an arm around Neil’s back. One of Neil’s arms flopped over Aaron’s shoulder.
“I am,” Neil complained.
“No, you are not.”
“I am.”
“Neil,” Aaron said through clenched teeth, “I am holding you up. You need to lock your knees.”
“Oh,” Neil said. He looked at his feet as if he needed to check they were on the ground.
To be fair, Neil did lock his knees, but he also leaned all of his upper body on Aaron, arms still hanging limply at his sides. He tucked his head into Aaron’s neck with, what seemed, every intention to make a home there for the night.
“Neil,” Aaron said, frozen against the hair tickling his cheek. “God dammit.”
“And…ron,” Neil spoke against his shoulder.
“Yes,” Aaron said sarcastically. “That’s me.”
“Can I j’stay here?” Neil slurred.
From what Aaron had seen of Neil’s dynamic with his brother, he knew Neil would get off if he said no. He could place Neil into a stool or pull up a chair with a back so he wouldn’t fall out and concuss himself. He could shove Neil off and make him fend for himself. He could pawn him off to Andrew.
At the moment, those other options seemed like far too much work.
That, or maybe it was the med student in him, the intrinsic urge to heal and help and nurture that smarted at the thought of pushing Neil off.
Aaron didn’t push him off when Neil readjusted and tucked an arm into his chest, the other gripping Aaron for stability. He didn’t when Neil asked again, a quiet, “Aaron.”
“Okay,” Aaron conceded. He rubbed a hand up and down Neil’s back placatingly, but also because Neil seemed like he needed it. And he came to Aaron for it. Well, he came to Andrew and got Aaron. But he didn’t push Aaron off, and Aaron hasn’t done the same.
And they just…stood like that. For what seemed like a long time, but it probably was only a few minutes before Neil spoke again.
“Aaron,” Neil said.
Aaron hummed in response.
“I don’ hate you.”
“What?” Aaron asked. “What the fuck are you talking about, Neil?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“What?” Aaron said again.
“I don’wanna fight.” Neil lets out a colossal breath.
“We haven’t fought in a long time,” Aaron says, his idea of agreement. Acceptance.
Neil was quiet, because it was true. Neil seemed content to lay in Aaron’s arms, and Aaron didn’t have another stool next to him. He sure as shit wasn’t giving his up for Neil, but Neil was genuinely so unsteady on his feet that Aaron couldn’t let him go.
He trembled a bit, and Aaron was almost amused that after everything Neil had been through, being a little too drunk is what finally did it for him.
But Aaron had felt that way before. Inebriated and scared in a crowded room of strangers. Neil, however, has people he knows. How can Aaron be upset at Neil for wanting the comfort that he also craved? How can he be upset that Neil feels safe enough with Andrew to ask for help? That his brother finally feels safe with someone too?
“Aaron,” Neil said.
“What,” Aaron said.
“It’s okay if you hate me.”
“Oh God,” Aaron groaned, “Ew. Are you really an emotional drunk?”
Neil pulled back and, to Aaron’s horror, there were actual tears in his eyes. His lip trembled as he bit it, holding the tears in. Aaron hated how much of himself he was seeing in Neil tonight. The harrowing fact that maybe they are quite similar.
“Oh God,” Aaron said again, mortified. He grabbed the back of Neil’s head and shoved it back into his shoulder, effectively hiding Neil’s teary face.
He cast a desperate look to Andrew, who was finally on his way back to the table. He patted Neil on the shoulder, like one would burp a baby when they have no idea how to do so.
“Andrew.”
Andrew didn’t need prompting to look. His eyes were trained on Neil and Aaron from the moment he turned around. By the nonchalance of his movements and his lack of alarm, Aaron guessed he had been watching their interaction.
Andrew set the tray down on the table and cast a significant look between them, settling on Neil’s intoxicated form keeled over on Aaron’s shoulder.
Andrew raises one eyebrow, a silent question, an okay?
Aaron finds himself nodding, and unsure why. All he knows right now, a few drinks in, is that he doesn’t hate this. And he doesn’t hate that Neil doesn’t hate him.
-
The smell of coffee set Neil’s feet moving like a Pavlovian response. He was half awake already with a pounding headache, like his eyeballs were beating his closed lids to death.
Neil toddles down the stairs with his eyes closed, a hand pressed hard to his temple, stabilizing his brain.
Aaron was standing at the counter already, facing the sputtering coffee pot. His arms were crossed, hair ruffled from sleep. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned.
The memories from last night played past Neil’s mind like a sped-up movie. He grimaced in embarrassment, and felt a little sick at how drunk he was. How stupid he was, to drink that much. He should have known his tolerance isn’t matched with the rest of them. He could have gotten hurt, could have said something—
Fuck.
“Fuck,” Neil said, covering his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Aaron said. He turned back to the coffee, though his posture was rigid.
Neil grabbed a glass of water. He noticed Aaron watching from the corner of his eye, but Neil chose to ignore him, figuring that’s best. He sat on the counter with his water, sipping it slowly while he and Aaron waited for the coffee to finish brewing.
The silence was thick, but they were both too stubborn to leave the kitchen. Usually, they preferred to wait and pretend the other wasn’t there.
That’s what Neil thought, at least. After a painful few minutes, Aaron huffed and grabbed the bottle of Advil from the drawer next to the sink. He shook two pills out and sat them next to Neil.
Neil stared at them until Aaron cast a pointed look at the pills, then physically gestured to them with raised brows. Neil took them while Aaron watched.
The coffee pot beeped. Aaron made a split second decision, grabbing two mugs and pouring coffee into them. He slid Neil’s across the counter. It sloshed over the side, but Aaron wasn’t capable of caring at the moment. His mind was busy, and he knew Neil had noticed his lack of eye contact; the analytical fuck.
“Look,” Aaron said. He did not look at Neil to say it. “You’re annoying, and you never know when to shut your mouth or mind your business. Most of the time, I’m convinced you have a death wish, and a lot of the time I find myself resenting you. You complicated our lives, put us all in danger, didn’t give a shit.”
Neil’s chest hurt. He didn’t know if it was anger or guilt. Aaron started talking again before he could figure it out.
“But I don’t hate you. I can’t, really. I can’t even fault you for the shitty things you did, because it all worked out.” Aaron glanced quickly at Neil, looked away. His cheeks were red.
The thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for being good to Andrew went unsaid, but Aaron hoped Neil wasn’t obtuse enough to force him to say it out loud.
Neil must have understood, because he nodded. Aaron figured that was as close to a reconciliation they were going to have, so he leaned against the counter and pretended everything was normal.
For the first time, they drank their coffee in silence without animosity orchestrating it.
Neil’s mug was half empty when Andrew joined them. He paused in the doorway, squinty eyed and mussed, looking between the two. Neil on the counter, Aaron leaning against it. Their silence, but lack of tension.
“This is weird,” Andrew finally said, his voice gravely from sleep.
“Yeah,” Neil and Aaron said simultaneously.
Neil glanced over his mug at Aaron, the corner of his mouth twitching. Aaron regarded it, but looked away, because something like contentment had made its way onto Andrew’s face.
Aaron smiled at that instead.
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softspiderling · 9 months ago
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illicit affairs - part one | r.c.
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summary:
“I’ll be upstairs with Monique, a’ight?” he said, muttering in your ear. “Are you okay getting the drinks to the boys?”
“Yeah yeah,” you huffed with a wave. “Go on. Be safe.”
Rafe smirked at you, ignoring how Monique was staring daggers at you. “Come get me if anything’s wrong, you hear me precious?”
OR; Topper gets duped by a pretty “bartender”, Rafe (almost) has another hook up, and you're trying to tell yourself that this is enough.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: mention of drugs and alcohol (weed!), this chapter has no smut, but the later parts will so 18+ MDNI!
word count: 2,5k
author's note: wait... is this finally the first chapter of illicit affairs?🤭 yes it is!!! ik i've been teasing it for so long but it's finally hereee!!! inspired by my own tom holland fic (don't talk to me pls) and it has evolved into a series... i hope you love it so much!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
part one: "don't call me kid"
Women and men can’t be “just friends”.
You had always hated that saying. Like, why the hell couldn’t men and women be friends? All three of your best friends were guys, and you didn’t even remotely want to be anything more than friends with any of them.
Okay, maybe you wouldn’t mind being more than friends with one of them.
Bane of your existence.
Pain in the ass.
Annoying as hell.
Your best friend, Rafe Cameron.
You tried so hard to not be in love with him, to only be his friend. Mostly because it would make your life so much less complicated, but also because you hated proving that saying right by being in love with your guy best friend.
“Hey, you still with us?”
“What?”
Rafe stared at you with a frown, before he plucked the joint from your lips.
“You nearly smoked the entire thing by yourself. What’s got you thinking so hard?”
He raised an eyebrow at you while taking a hit from the joint, barely pulling it from his lips before Kelce snagged it from him.
“Greedy bitch,” Rafe huffed before he turned his attention back to you. “You tired, precious? Want to leave?”
You rolled your eyes at the nickname - despite the long tradition of it - and shook your head. “Nah. It’s not even one. And Topper hasn’t made a fool of himself yet.”
“Fuck you,” Topper shot back immediately, moving his cup out of the way when you reached for it. “No, no drinks for mean girls.”
“Come on, don’t be such an asshole,” you whined, smacking your mouth a little to get rid of the dryness the joint has left. Making grabby hands at the cup, you annoyed Topper until he finally gave in, handing you his cup. You took a big gulp, before you pulled a face, pushing the cup back into his hands, barely able to swallow whatever the hell he was drinking.
“Ew, what is that?”
“Some girl in the kitchen made it for him,” Rafe told you, snickering. “I don’t think he was even watching what she was pouring into his cup. Too entranced by her pretty eyes.”
“She said she’s a bartender,” Topper said defensively and you only snorted. He made it far too easy for girls to mess with him.
“Top, I love you,” you said, getting to your feet and straightening your clothes in the process. “But please, you can’t keep falling in love with every pretty girl who pays attention to you.”
“But I’ve been in love with you for six years precious,” Topper proclaimed as he clutched his chest melodramatically, “When will you give me a chance?”
You only scoffed at his antics, twisting your hair up before putting a hair clip in it. “You wish,” you said, slapping his hands away. “I’ll get us some new drinks.”
“I’ll come with,” Rafe offered.
“Can you get me one too?” Kelce piped up and you pinched his cheek, making him wince.
“Vodka soda?”
Kelce gave you a dirty look, rubbing his cheek before he nodded petulantly. You gave him a thumbs up, grabbing Rafe by the wrist to drag him inside.
It was incredibly packed as soon as you entered the house from the backyard, the body heat from about 50 drunk people raising the temperature indoors and it smelled like the inside of a beer keg. Rafe kept his hand on your lower back, to not lose track of you as you carefully weaved between the people on your way to the kitchen. You tried not to get distracted by how his hand occasionally brushed over your exposed skin whenever your top rode up. He had always been this way. Running a hand through Topper’s hair to annoy him, clasping Kelce’s shoulder whenever he drank too much and was hanging over the toilet, squeezing Wheezie’s arm in a quick hug, and keeping his hand on your lower back whenever the two of you were walking somewhere crowded. He liked to show affection the way his father failed to do. So you refused to overthink it when his hands splayed over your skin, despite your heart racing whenever it happened.
Losing yourself to your thoughts for a second, you didn’t pay any attention when some guy walked into you, too busy talking with his friend to watch where he was going. You nearly went flying face down on the ground, but Rafe’s hand quickly found your waist, steadying you.
“Hey, watch it!” Rafe snapped at the guy, who only raised his hands in defense.
“I’m fine,” you insisted, gently pushing his hands off of you. “We’re nearly there, don’t start a fight.”
Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Rafe giving the guy a stink eye before you reached the kitchen, where it luckily wasn’t as cramped, with only a handful of people mingling and talking. Grabbing four cups off of the stack on the kitchen island, you pursed your lips as you let your eyes roam over the options, rows, and rows of alcohol.
“Do you want a beer or something harder?”
“Beer, I think I might have to drive us home,” Rafe replied, grabbing the vodka bottle that was on his left, and handing it to you.
You unstacked the cups on the counter and poured vodka into three of them. Rafe reappeared by your side - not that you had noticed him leaving, you were too focused on making sure there was an equal amount of vodka in all the cups - sipping on a beer, a jug of cranberry juice in his other hand. You grabbed the jug out of his hand, wordlessly, filling your cup to the brim.
“Where’s the club soda?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder. Rafe only shrugged.
“Couldn’t find it.”
“Here’s club soda, Rafe,” a flirty voice suddenly said, and Monique Colver batted her long, fake eyelashes at Rafe.
“Thanks Monique,” Rafe replied with a smirk, taking the bottle to give it to you, which you accepted wordlessly.
Here we go.
“Call me Moni.”
“Moany?” you muttered under your breath while you filled the other two cups, barely wincing when Rafe gave you a side eye, acting like he was listening to every word that left Monique’s lips.
“- but I told my dad I really wanted to travel a bit so he got a me a trip to Europe.”
“Oh yeah? What countries you tryna see?”
Ugh.
You downed your entire cup in one go, already refilling it when you heard “show you” and “upstairs” and you rolled your eyes. You lifted your cup to your lips, basically putting your entire face in it, really, anything to remove yourself from this conversation, only pausing with drowning yourself when you felt Rafe’s hand on your lower back. Again.
“I’ll be upstairs with Monique, a’ight?” he said, muttering in your ear. “Are you okay getting the drinks to the boys?”
“Yeah yeah,” you huffed with a wave. “Go on. Be safe.”
Rafe smirked at you, ignoring how Monique was staring daggers at you. “Come get me if anything’s wrong, you hear me precious?”
You flipped him off and he took that as a sign to leave, following Monique as she dragged him upstairs.
“Bitch,” you muttered to yourself, grabbing the three cups on the counter and heading back outside to the boys.
It was a miracle that not a single drop was spilled on the way, probably because you were too busy trying not to imagine what was going on upstairs.
“There she is!” Kelce greeted you. “Almost died of thirst. What took you so long?”
“Don’t ask,” you muttered, handing them the drinks and Topper eyed you suspiciously. Acting like you didn’t notice it, you plopped yourself into the empty seat next to them, taking a big gulp from your drink.
“Where’s Rafe?”
“Where do you think?” you said with a sigh, giving him a look.
You weren’t jealous.
Okay, you were.
But it wasn’t the main reason why you were so annoyed.
You just hated it when the girls Rafe hooked up with always treated you like you were their competition, like you would take him away from them.
Which, fair, you could if you wanted. If you faked an injury or being sick, Rafe would immediately drop them to get you home.
But he’d never want you the way he wanted them. Yes, you knew he loved you, and yes he was your best friend, but you couldn’t help but want more. Maybe that was selfish. You let out a small sigh, leaning your head on Kelce’s shoulder, missing the way he glanced at Topper. Lucky for you, they decided against pushing it. Taking a sip from your drink, you tried not to think about Monique and Rafe. It didn’t help that the vodka and the joint were starting to work, spreading into your system, making you feel all warm and woozy, your head cloudy.
Your eyebrows shot up when Rafe suddenly appeared, squeezing himself between you and the armrest, his hair disheveled. You were still stewing, looking at him with a crease on your forehead.
“That was quick,” you noted. “Where did you leave Moany?” You couldn’t help but ask, putting emphasis on her nickname.
Rafe only shook his head, plucking your cup out of your hand to take a big gulp.
“That man is traumatized,” Kelce pointed out, nodding in understanding like he didn’t need any further explanation.
“Wait, Monique Colver?” Topper asked. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
Rafe held up his hand, stopping him. “Yes, but that wasn’t the problem.”
You rolled your eyes, already knowing what was coming. He was such a drama queen sometimes.
“What did she do?”
Rafe didn’t answer, taking another sip of the drink, before he winced. “She told me to call her precious.”
“What?!”
“HUH??”
“Ew!”
“You know what’s the worst?” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t even get off.”
“That’s your biggest problem??”
He rolled his eyes at you, shifting on the sofa. “Pretty big, yeah.”
“Ugh.”
“Can we get back to Monique wanting you to call her precious?” Kelce interjected. “Did Rafe call you precious in front of her?”
“Yes, very clearly. There’s no way she didn’t hear,” you replied.
“Maybe she hates your guts and she wanted to roleplay being you while Rafe abuses her in a sex-way.”
“Kelce, literally never open your mouth again,” you groaned, covering your ears with your hands, while Topper cracked up, Rafe only pulled a face.
“It makes sense,” Topper insisted. “Like, precious is the only girl who’s been around us, or well, Rafe, constantly. You know, apart from Sarah and Wheezie. Maybe that was Monique’s way of telling you she wants to be your girlfriend.”
“What?” Rafe asked, his forehead creased.
You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re giving her way too much credit, I think she’s just weird.”
“You’re biased,” Topper pointed out, reaching behind Kelce’s to boop you on the head. “I don’t think you’ve ever liked any of the girls Rafe hooked up with.”
“Ugh, what’s there to like? They either act like I’m invisible or are passive aggressive bitches,” you huffed, smacking his hand away. Rafe snickered, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close, pressing a kiss on your head.
“They’re jus’ jealous, cuz you’re the only girl I keep around.”
“Get off me,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming regardless. Rafe knew how to make you feel special.
Kelce yawned, stretching his arms, laying one of them on top of Rafe’s arm around your shoulder. “This party sucks. And I’m starving.”
“I’m so down for tacos right now, do you think Mateo’s still open?” Topper asked, sitting up straight because if there was one thing he took seriously, it was tacos.
“It’s two am on a Saturday,” you pointed out, and his shoulders sagged. You exchanged looks with Rafe, a grin growing on your face. “His truck is definitely still open.”
“Alright!” Topper cheered, jumping up. “Let’s go then!”
He dragged the rest of you off of the couch, herding you through the backyard and to the car, all the while laughing and joking around. You ignored the dirty looks you received from others as you got into the passenger seat, Rafe getting into the driver’s seat of his truck.
It didn’t take long until Rafe pulled up into the parking lot where Mateo’s food truck was parked, the four of you tumbling out of the car, Topper nearly falling flat on his face as he sprinted to the food truck. The light was still on, with faint Spanish music playing in the background.
“If it isn’t my four favorite Kooks,” Mate said, wiping the counter with a towel, before throwing it over his shoulder, eyeing you expectantly as you stood in a row in front of him. “Can I help you?”
“Do you have any carne asada tacos?” Kelce asked, peering over the display.
“Even four would be enough,” Topper added, wringing his hands nervously.
Mateo sighed and you’d already come to terms with having to go to bed with a taco craving, before he grinned at you, shaking his head fondly.
“Grab some drinks and have some patience, I’ll feed you in a second.”
Ten minutes later, the four of you were chowing down on some tacos, washing it down with ice-cold cans of coke.
“Fuck, I so needed this,” Topper moaned, biting into his third taco and you rolled your eyes at him, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin.
“Get it together Top.”
Rafe nudged you with his knee, giving you a look. “Give him a break, I know you’ve been craving some tacos as well,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, which made you pull a face.
“Eurgh, please use a napkin you slob.”
You pushed the stack of napkins in his direction and he only grinned at you, picking up some off the stack to wipe his mouth.
“What would I do without you?” he teased, but you only rolled your eyes fondly, picking up some nachos.
“Whatever, eat your damn taco.”
Rafe squeezed your wrist with his clean hand, and you only leaned your head on his shoulder, starting to zone out when they started talking about some new boat, just enjoying their company. Honestly, you were glad you had them. Even if they were boys, incredibly dumb, and lacked a little tact sometimes, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You glanced down, where your legs were pressed against Rafe’s as you sat next to each other on the picnic bench, just like always.
Maybe, you thought to yourself, maybe this was enough.
“You good?” Rafe asked, raising a brow at you, taco halfway into his mouth.
“Yep, ‘m perfect.”
It had to be.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author's note: tell me what you think pls!!!
🏷️list: @maybankslover
935 notes · View notes
theprettyarachnid · 1 year ago
Text
being under the mistletoe w/ the jjk characters
a/n: if anyone says jack shit about this being late, you’re done 💀
also i’m kind of in a suguru mood so don’t sue me
warnings: none
characters: itadori, megumi, yuta, inumaki, gojo, suguru, nanami, sukuna
itadori
🕷️ he awkwardly laughs while looking down at his shoes
🕷️ it’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss you but do you want to kiss him?
🕷️ ends up asking if he can kiss you and he gets really excited when you say yes
🕷️ it’s not long or over the top, it’s a simple and sweet kiss and when he pulls away his cheeks are as pink as his hair
megumi
🕷️ he hates mistletoes and was clearly trying to avoid them at all cost during the party
🕷️ cheeks go really red
🕷️ he doesn’t really like kissing you in public because of yuuji and nobara
🕷️ especially nobara
🕷️ so while he’s avoiding eye contact, you take the chance to give him a quick kiss on the cheek
🕷️ megumi eventually gives you a proper kiss when you two are alone
inumaki
🕷️ he lights up when you’re caught under the mistletoe
🕷️ “tuna tuna!”
🕷️ some turn of heads when they hear inumaki’s expression
🕷️ you get a little embarrassed but he gives you a small kiss before you can really say anything
yuta
🕷️ since he’s grown a lot more confidence, he’s actually pretty smooth about it
🕷️ yuta gives you a look waiting to see if you’re okay with it or not
🕷️ he gives you a small smile when you give him the ‘go ahead’
🕷️ yuta gently grabs your wrist with one hand and cradles the back of your neck with the other
🕷️ his lips are kind of chapped but it’s a nice kiss
🕷️ it’s gentle and loving and he’ll gladly give you another one if you let him
gojo
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🕷️ i’m sorry i thought of this and the song ‘daddy’s home’
🕷️ he grabs you by the waist and kind of playfully sways you
🕷️ gojo was a bit too excited to be under the mistletoe
🕷️ he likes to show everyone you’re his any chance he gets
🕷️ the kiss is really nice and he has you wrap your arms around your neck and it’s a little too long but you’re okay with that
🕷️ he starts to tickle your waist when the kiss is done
suguru
🕷️ he smiles down at you before giving you a kiss
🕷️ suguru either holds your hands or gently cups your face
🕷️ you may hear mimiko and nanako either saying ‘ew’ or talking about how suguru should just propose already
🕷️ his kiss is very affirming and protective
🕷️ suguru did end up proposing this christmas with a delicate engagement ring that was just right for you
nanami
🕷️ he lifts your chin up and wraps his arm around your waist before firmly kissing you
🕷️ pushes the hair out of your face while whispering how beautiful you look
🕷️ when the kiss is over, he glances at the people chatting and suggests ditching the party because he’d much prefer to be with you alone
🕷️ he smiles when you say yes while grabbing his tie
sukuna
🕷️ to sukuna, mistletoe means sex
🕷️ over the top to the point where it’s really embarrassing
🕷️ grabs your legs with his two arms and his other two are under your arms
🕷️ he’s 7’5 in his true form so he can use that as an excuse but it’s still embarrassing
🕷️ roughly kisses you while squeezing your thighs
🕷️ does not care people are staring silently while the song baby it’s cold outside is quietly playing
🕷️ chrismas sex after you leave the party which is shortly after the kiss
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wakeup01 · 11 months ago
Text
Playing It Straight
“Roomieee. I need your help with something.” I hear the telltale high pitched cry from my twinky roommate Yuan’s bedroom. The last thing I need right now is his whiny ass distracting me.
“What it is? I have a date with this hot chick in half an hour. You better have clothes on this time dude.” My hand pushes the door to his room ajar and I see him laying down on the bed facing away from me. There was some upbeat trashy pop song playing on his sound system. Yuan begins to gyrate to the beat. “Don’t dance. No dancing.” I order bluntly, turning off his music.
There was being gay and then there was Yuan, who seemed to make it his whole identity. It was bad enough his room was colour coded in pastel purples to match his dusty lavender hair. But he had now painted the whole door too.
“It’s my big butt, I think there’s something wrong with it.” He announces with fake concern, rolling his hips on the bed sheet - revealing more of his smooth slim body than I ever dared wish to see. I make a internal note to ‘mace own eyes later’.
Yuan was not as innocent as he liked to make out and had on numerous occasions attempted to trick me into indulging in his fantasies. Gifting me a bright crop top and calling it a ‘fashionable tank top’ - it certainly turned heads at the gym the one day I wore it, or inviting me to a progressive club with the promise of scoring ‘lots of ass’. And the less said about ‘locktober’ the better, that was NOT a halloween costume. Only last week he had convinced me to listen to some gay as fuck audio tapes while I slept; obviously that crap didn’t work on a man like me. His justification always being ‘you’ll like it, I swear’. This one was a bit on the nose, even for him.
“Dude we talked about this, I’m flattered, really. I get it, I’m a gay bottoms wet dream. I can’t blame you for eying my superior meat.” I puff out my well built chest, barely contained in my tank top. “But fuck, it ain’t gonna happen.” I attempt to not make eye contact with him as he looks over his shoulder at me.
“No, like seriously. Something feels wrong, can you pleeease juth take a looksee. Pretty please.” He pulls down his shorts and moons me as I shield my eyes. It’s like the sun, you’re safe if you don’t look directly at it, right? Internal note: ‘buy more mace’.
“Serious like when you said we were in a ‘mandatory hand holding zone?” I hear muffled giggling coming from his pillow. “Bro it’s probably from all the things you shove up it.” I shudder, trying not to picture THAT in my head. “I’ll look but only if you promise me that you’ll drop that ‘I know you’re secretly gay bullshit.’ My friends at the gym heard that crap last time.”
“Hehe. Ooo thuch a manly jock. Geez, I pwromise. Meathead.” Yuan winks at me and I hated him for it. Hated the weird way it made me feel in my chest.
I sigh loudly for effect and bend down until the cleft of his…cheek is at eye level. I felt so self conscious, how on earth did he talk me into this? I look at my chiseled body just to remind myself, yes I am a man. A masculine man. God, here we go. My eyes briefly glance across his—ew—his raised butt before I quickly look away.
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“Bruh I don’t see a thing. It’s a mans butt. Congratulations.” What the hell am I even looking for? I’m sat on the floor checking out a dude’s…posterior. And for what?
“Come on, look clother.” Yuan insists with a slight lisp, curving his back and pushing his rear higher.” Again, I look at my thick biceps, yes, still a man.
His hands pull at his buttocks and slowly part them, revealing his tight hole to me. Woah. One glimpse was all it took. I should have recoiled but instead I was fascinated. I’d never seen a man’s hole before, it was different…
I hear him say something to me but whatever it was, it didn’t seem too important. I couldn’t stop staring, it was like looking into a black hole, and the more I looked the more enraptured I became. It was distorting my worldview, it made me feel like I had been missing out on something all these years.
“Helloooo! See anything?”
“Uuhhh. Maybe.” I mumble, my head getting closer to his rear.
I pull away his hands and replace them with my own, laying my fingers across his round cheeks and spreading them wider. Wow, it was…dare I say, enticing? The rest of the room faded from my mind as my eyes fall deeper into his needy, winking hole. I lean in and my nose makes contact with his crack. I can’t help myself, I inhale and suck up his scent, it acts like an immediate aphrodisiac. My cock wakes up, poking against the edge of the bed.
“You have been lithening to your programming for me then. Good Meathead. Remember when you were the stuck-up clever one, going to college? That was thuch a bore.”
“Say what bro?” College? Did I…? Nah. That smart shit wasn’t for me bro, my head was like beef central. I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about but I was happy to be a good fucking meathead. Something in my mind told me I was supposed to be. It made me even more pumped about the gym session tomorrow, I gotta bulk up my pecs.
“Make sure to take lots of selfies tomorrow ‘bro’, I need to see your gains.” I continue to breathe in the sweet aroma emanating from his behind. What was I doing again? “So, anything there dummy? How about now?” giggle “Isn’t it likth so big.”
He wiggles his hips and pushes back into my face, my lips making contact with his boy pussy. My eyes go wide. Fuck, this was soo gay. I should be revolted, why am I still down here? I could get up and walk away whenever…whenever I wanted to. Suddenly my mouth felt parched, like I had spent a week in the desert. It became clear where this was going. I’m not sure if I could even stop myself at this point, one tiny thing could tip me over the edge and disintegrate my own self image. It was as If I was having an out of body experience, seeing myself pressed against him. I wouldn’t, I was stronger than this. I was straight. Straight as an arrow… straight as a…
“Eat up jock.”
F—fuck. My lips open and my tongue presses up against his rear, dragging up and down between his cheeks and then swirling around his inviting hole. It was like a dam breaking, once I started I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. He tasted too good. Ready for the main course, my tongue dives deep into him and begins to eat him out in earnest, my mouth sucking at his entrance like I’m slurping on a ice cream filling.
While giving him a very manly rimjob I think of a solution to our problem. I finish up indulging in his sweet cake and pull my face out, slapping his jiggly butt cheeks.
“So what’s the issue?” He asks impatiently.
“It’s empty for one. Huhuhu. But I can fix that bro.” I say confidently, rushing to remove my underwear so I can finally nut inside him.
I push his skinny back down against the bed and line up my monster cock with his lubricated hole. Yuan moans into his pillow like he should. I slide into him with ease and flex my arms, feeling proud at ‘conquering’ my roommates hole.
“Good Meathead.” He praises between loud panting. “Mmm. But I thought you were straight.”
“I am. Unff. Just helping a bro out. No homo. Though I do need to see if there’s anything wrong with your throat after I plant my seed in your hole.”
______________________________
The next day.
“Man that was a fucking lit workout.” I exclaim, marvelling at my bulging muscles. I tense my arms and see my veins pop, sweat dripping to the floor. “Though you losers sure focused a lot on your glutes today. Hey—aren’t you ‘queens’ gonna shower?” I turn as my gym bros stop behind me in the locker room.
“Well… we spoke to your roommate about your progress yesterday.” Xavier states, removing his damp muscle tee - his dark shiny skin reflecting the harsh lights from overhead.
Yesterday…for some reason my memories from the day before were a blur. For the life of me I can’t remember what happened. There was some strange taste lingering in my mouth that had been making my dick hard all day. My roommate was certainly in a suspiciously good mood this morning too and made some strange comments about me ‘being hungry for more’.
“About what bro? That Yuan can kiss my ass. Huhuh. Come on, stop checking out each others dicks and let’s go!”
“Uh see, he thinks you’re now ready to be our…” I’d never seen him so unsure of himself before, I roll my eyes at him and slam my locker closed.
“Y’all acting like a bunch of girls.” I swear if Yuan is back to spewing his gay bullshit again…
“Go on. Say it.” One of the others insists, nudging Xavier’s shoulder.
Xavier hesitates and then looks away from me, his cheeks flushing red. “There’s uh, there’s something wrong with my…butt…so could you?” The others fail to stifle a laugh.
I do a double take as Xavier turns and points his toned ass at me, his jockstrap framing it like a wrapped gift. “What the fuck? Bruh what are you doing? Put that shit away.”
“Be a good Meathead.”
I see a flash of my roommates butt cross my minds eye. Uhhh. My cock throbs at the image. Before I know it my legs are kneeling behind my friend, what am I doing? My body certainly seems to be one step ahead, my hands grab at his muscled legs for support. “What the actual fuck. Guys…” I’ve never felt so embarrassed, how am I ever gonna live this down?
A hand pulls on the strap hugging Xaviers left buttock and lets go, letting it snap back into place, a slight jiggle vibrates over his firm rear. Was it my hand? I couldn’t even tell.
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“Holy shit. I can’t believe those tapes actually worked. He’s come a long way since he was that scrawny nerd, thinking he was above everyone. Now he’s dumber than all of us. We just need Yuan to join us next. Damn someone make sure to record this” It was hard to take in what they were saying, my mind was fixated…elsewhere. One of them leans down to my side and points their phone camera at my zoned out face. “Dude, we stink…I’m next after you.” Someone pats my back as another hand holds my shoulder in place. “Nothing more manly than licking the salty sweat off a bro’s butt.”
No….
Xavier bends forward, his pert dark cheeks pulling apart - sweat glistening on their surface. And then I see it. What my body craved. His hole. Everything falls into place, my mouth watering at the sight, my eyes entranced. I could no longer deny what I wanted, deny the inevitability of what I was about to do. The depravity would be immortalised on camera too, my dumb face shoved in a mans ass. Oh fuck.
The perfect black void nestled between his tight buttocks seems to suck away my shame as I lick my lips. “So manly.” I repeat to the crowd that had gathered around me. Mmm. Rimming a man’s ass was almost as good as fucking it. I wanted a taste of all the guys, their shiny sweaty bodies, their musk. It was my place in the group, I was their meathead after all. My cock was already throbbing at the thought. Maybe Yuan was onto something with this whole ‘gay’ thing. Yeah, let’s try going full homo. Huhuhuh. Anything for the bros, bro.
Looking down at me confidently, Xavier grips the back of my head.
“Clean my hole bruh.”
_____________________________
A few days later I check in on Yuan to see his progress after a few nights obliviously listening to his ‘jocking’ tapes. Dude, I’m going to enjoy watching him slowly bulk up and dumb down. He’s sat up in bed casually tugging at his cock, mouth agape. The heavy thumping bass of trap music is blaring from his speakers. His room is a complete mess.
“How’s it hanging lil bro?”
“Just…mm—wanking.”
“Can see, Meathead. Hung and dumb, nice. I think you’re about ready to join us at the gym.”
“Hmm. Roomie, I—I need your help with something. It’s my big dick…”
“Huhuhu, there’s something wrong with it, let me be a bro and give you a hand with that stick.” I climb over him and wrap my lips around his cock.
“Thuck…ahem. Fuck yeah brooo!”
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mellowsadistic · 11 months ago
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Alison sulked on her time-out stool, wondering how long she'd been sitting there. There were no clocks in her nursery, but it felt like hours since her husband had dragged her inside, changed her into one of her punishment diapers, and sat her in the corner with that stupid tiara on her head.
She squirmed a little on her seat and winced. Her bottom was still sore from the spanking she'd received earlier - her husband hadn't been at all pleased when he'd found out how much she'd spent on his credit card, and she'd had to endure almost twenty minutes kicking and crying over his lap before he'd let her up. It wasn't fair! She'd been on a shopping spree with her girlfriends! Was she just supposed to have tagged along, not buying anything? She was sure her friends had spent just as much money as she had... but she was equally sure that none of them were sitting on red bottoms right now, nor would they be wearing diapers, and not one of their houses would have a nursery in it just for them. No, they had husbands who treated them with respect, or who at least saw them as adults.
Alison felt herself going red as she imagined what her friends would say if they could see her now, being punished like a naughty toddler. She knew she ought to put her foot down and insist that she wouldn't let herself be treated like this, but it was just so hard to protest when her husband spoke to her in his authoritative voice, with that stern look in his eyes. For all her feminist ideals and principles, she never managed to do more than whimper when he told her off like a child and announced that she was getting a spanking and a stint in diapers to teach her a lesson. The little plastic tiara was the cherry on top. Her husband called it her "princess potty-pants" tiara, and she had to wear it whenever she wore her diapers. It made her feel like a stupid little girl playing dress-up, and no doubt that was exactly how he wanted her to feel.
Alison scowled around at her nursery with its stupid playmat and its mind-numbing baby toys and the dumb stuffed animals lying around everywhere. She particularly despised the oversized baby blocks sitting on the shelf that held her diapers. She did not love diapers. In fact, she hated them more than anything else in the whole world. She hated how they pushed her legs apart, she hated the way they crinkled with every movement, and most of all she hated what they were for. Alison squirmed again and pressed her thighs together as close as they would go, then let out a quite moan of distress. She needed to pee badly. She was no stranger to this kind of punishment, as the full diaper pail in the corner could attest, but somehow, no matter how many times she was forced to wet herself, it never got easier.
After another minute of increasingly desperate wiggling, she gave up. With a deep breath, Alison clenched her eyes shut and relaxed her bladder. The stream began at once. "Eww..." she whined under her breath, winkling her nose in disgust as she felt the thick padding between her legs start to swell up with pee. "Ew, ew, ewww!" Warmth spread from her crotch, but the knowledge of what she was doing rid the sensation of any pleasantness. She was peeing herself. She was wetting her diaper like an overgrown baby. Tears filled her eyes as her thick baby pants became soggier and soggier. The smell of urine reached her nose and she sobbed. She fell so small, so stupid.
Then came her husband's voice. "Alright, baby girl, time-out is over."
She looked up through her tear-filled eyes to see him walking into the room, looking highly satisfied at the sight of her desperate expression.
"Uh-oh," he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, "I think someone's had a little accident. Have you wet yourself, baby?"
Alison sobbed again and nodded. She lifted her fists to her eyes to wipe the tears from them, so she didn't notice her husband's hand until it was already sliding down the front of her diaper. She let out a squeal of protest, but it went ignored.
"Oh my, you're absolutely soaked!" he said, feeling the sodden padding in her diaper. "You really had to go, didn't you, princess potty-pants?" He withdrew his hand and tapped her on the nose. "I guess that tiara's not just for show, is it?" He straightened up. "You can stand up now, baby."
Alison got shakily to her feet, cringing as her diaper sagged heavily between her legs. It was so wet that she could feel the warm, swollen padding brushing against her thighs, and it was drooping down almost to her knees. A whine rose involuntarily in her throat, and she couldn't help flapping her hands in revulsion. It was so yucky!
"You don't like wearing wet diapers, do you, Alison?" her husband asked.
Alison bit back her retort. Of course she didn't! "No, Daddy," she said, unable to bring herself to look him in the eyes.
"And you don't like being spanked either, do you?"
There was a pause. "No, Daddy."
"Do you know why Daddy has to spank your little bottom and make you wear diapers?"
Alison clenched her fists. Now was the time. Now was the moment to tell him she wouldn't put up with this anymore.
"Because I'm a silly little girl," she said meekly, staring at the carpet, "and it's the only way I'll learn."
"Good girl. You can stay in that wet diaper for a few more hours to really drive the lesson home. I'll change you into a clean one at bedtime. Now take Daddy's hand, soggy-britches. Let's go and have a cuddle, okay?"
"Yes, Daddy!"
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t0msvi4gra · 3 months ago
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Plsss write a tom step daddy fanfic. And the plot is that the readers mom is a bitch and always treated her badly/abused her. One day her mom marries tom and he becomes her new step dad. The reader is like (18) and tom (29). Since the reader despises her mom she wants to take revenge and fucks around with her husband. (smut and everything/ they do it secretly whenever mom leaves and Tom says stuff like "you're my dirty little secret") IF U WRITE IT MY LIFE WOULD BE SO FULFILLED I'VE NEVER SEEN A STEPFATHER/DAUGHTER FANFIC HERE AND I NEED ITTTT
this is so so so hot
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MY SECRET | TOM KAULITZ X FEMREADER
IM BACK GUYSSSSSSS
warnings: daddy name calling, cheating, degrading, praise
youre mom and dad had a huge argument about her cheating on him which had lead to your dad leaving. your mom had full custody of you so you couldnt really see your dad.
ever since your stepdad moved in, you hated him. you griped about how he was trying to replace your father and how he let your mom cheat knowing she was married. but you found him so hot. you could see why your mom saw him.
but it wasnt just your dad that she mistreated, she also mistreated you. she was an alcoholic and she constantly made you do everything.
your mom had to go to work the next day and you had a party to go to. you were wearing, stockings, a short skirt, and a long sleeve low cut top with some heels.
you woke up and picked out all your outfit and got ready. you grab your phone and your bag and you go downstairs, surprisingly tom was sitting on the couch watching whatever and he notices you heading out the door.
“where you think your going dressing like that?” he says getting up.
“im going to my boyfriends birthday party is that a problem?” you say throwing your hands up. “boyfriend? hm well go change them we can talk about it.” he says giving you a little push to go to your room. “dont touch me.” you say shrugging him off. “then go change… or ill have to rip these clothes off of you and make you change.” he says grabbing your waist. “ew! get off of me!” you try to push away, you really did secretly find him hot, you always wondered what it was like to fuck him. “dont lie to me, youve wanted me. the way you purposely bend over to reveal your pussy to me. ive heard you with your little vibrator wishing it was me.” he says as he cups you through your panties.
“youre so wet right now… we wouldnt want your mom to find out now would we?” he pulls you to your bedroom, closing the door and locking it, shoving you on the bed.
“flip over, ass up.” he says unbuckling his jeans. he rips your panties off and lifts up your skirt. his cock pointing at your entrance. “this is for being such a little slut.” he enters you slowly.
“what if my mom finds out?” you say whimpering a little. “shh she wont, youre my dirty little secret hm?” he says clamping his hand over your mouth.
he pounds into you grabbing your hair and pulling it as he takes you from behind. your moans muffle against his mouth.
“thats a good fucking girl. fuck yes youre so much tighter than your mom. she could never compare.” he chuckles as he fucks you raw.
“so much better than that little boy you hang with? answer me!” he says pounding harder, uncovering your mouth. you nod. he spanks you hard, “ use your words. i want to hear you.” he groans as you speak. “youre so much better than the boys i hang out with. bigger cock.. bi- im gonna cum daddy..” you whimper as you feel his cock slam against your cervix. “just a few more seconds babygirl.” he says as reaches around to rub your clit.
“daddy! i really need to cum! please!” you cry out as you squirt and cum all over your bedsheets. he releases his huge load inside of you as he slows down.
“now..” he says catching his breath. “forget about that party, let me hold you.” he says laying down, pulling you into his arms.
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kallie-den · 3 months ago
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Faithful to the Source Material
Laura and Carmen turn the tables on their homophobic bully by hypnotizing her to act like the lesbian vampire she’s dressed up as for Halloween… but will things get out of hand?
If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon!  For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get immediate, early access to everything I write - 4 pieces of hypno-smut a  month, including the latest chapters of all the multi-chapter stories I write. Your support helps me keep writing and is greatly appreciated <3
---
Vicky had gone all-out with her Halloween costume. From the bottom of her heart, Laura detested the bully, but she had to hand it to her for that.
Vicky wasn’t one to half-commit. She had even dyed her hair jet black to match her gothic, lacy, corseted dress—complete with high collar, chest cut-out, and long, flowing sleeves—and the black gemstones in her earrings and on her necklace. Her makeup was just as on-point; deathly pale powder, not just on her face but all the way down her neck and across her chest, plus viciously dark, shadowy eyes, carefully accentuated cheekbone shadows, and rich, crimson lipstick. She was even wearing deep red color contacts. But the cherry on top of the cake was, of course, her fangs. Laura knew they had to be fake, but they certainly looked real enough when the way Vicky’s malevolent smirk pulled back her lips made them visible.
She really did make for a perfect vampire.
It was the best Halloween costume Laura and her girlfriend, Carmen, had seen all night. It was striking and gorgeous, and high-quality enough to almost seem real without sacrificing that fun hint of Halloween tackiness. And as much as it pained Laura to admit it, the vampire getup made Vicky look unbelievably, irresistibly hot.
It was just such a shame that Vicky was a mean, bullying, irredeemable, homophobic piece of shit.
And that she had decided to spend her Halloween ruining Laura and Carmen’s night.
“Wow,” Vicky drawled, as she stood in the doorway and regarded Laura and Carmen with a sadistic, disgusted glare. “I didn’t realize they let dykes into this party.”
Laura flinched. She loved that word, and hated the way Vicky made it sound like something shameful.
“Christ, Vicky,” Carmen groaned, a furious scowl on her face. “You know it’s not nineteen-fifty anymore, right? Just leave us alone.”
“I’d love to,” Vicky retorted. “But if someone doesn’t keep you freaks in your place, the whole sorority house is gonna end up smelling like rug-muncher. Ew.”
Laura surreptitiously tugged at Carmen’s sleeve. “Maybe we should just go?” she whispered.
Of the two of them, Carmen had always been the most inclined to actually stand up to Vicky and her bigotry. Laura wished she found it as easy to be so brave—but tonight, in particular, she’d been hoping for nothing more than a fun, relaxed, festive night with her girlfriend. Now that it had already been ruined, she couldn’t find it in herself to want to stay.
It was especially discouraging that this was exactly what Laura had worried would happen when the two of them had made up their minds to go to that year’s big sorority Halloween party. It was sure to be a blast—but Vicky was sure to be there. She was in the sorority, after all. In the end, Carmen had persuaded Lauren that the sorority house would be huge and packed, and that Vicky would have better things to do. Besides, what other time of year did you get to enjoy dressing up as creeps and ghouls?
Apparently, they wouldn’t get to enjoy it at this time of year either.
When she had accidentally locked eyes with Vicky across the room, Laura had immediately dragged Carmen upstairs to one of the private bedrooms reserved for hook-ups, hoping that Vicky would soon lose track of them and forget about them. No such luck. She’d tracked them upstairs like a bloodhound—and here they were.
“What are you two lesbos supposed to be dressed as, anyway?” Vicky snorted, stepping into the bedroom. “A nerd, and… a cartoon mom?”
“A… huh?” Carmen blinked, incredulous. “I’m a mad scientist. I figured it was pretty obvious.”
It was. Laura’s girlfriend was wearing a distinctly singed white lab coat, with big eye-protection goggles up on her forehead, her hair wild, and an assortment of measuring instruments and test tubes placed carefully throughout the costume. Personally, Laura was having a great time seeing her psychology student girlfriend really lean into the vibe.
“And I’m the bride of Frankenstein,” Laura put in. She thought she’d done pretty well with her costume—not just the dress and face paint, but the hair too.
“OK.” Vicky stared at her like she’d just told her that the sky was orange. “So… why the stupid hair?”
Laura blinked. “Like… the movie?”
Vicky just went on staring, nonplussed.
“Look,” Carmen said, standing up from the bed the two lesbians had been perched on. “Can’t you just leave us alone, Vicky? Just for one night? This is ridiculous.”
Their college was in a pretty conservative state; finding people who were bothered by Laura and Carmen’s sexualities and their relationship wasn’t all that hard. But mostly, those small-minded idiots restrained themselves to some mean looks and the silent treatment. Only Vicky had made it her business to follow the two of them wherever they went and make their lives miserable. It was as if nothing made her happier. At least this time she didn’t have her usual gaggle of followers along for the ride.
“Oh, trust me, I have plenty better things to do.” Vicky folded her arms and smirked. “But I just had to see how the two of you decided to fuck up Halloween. I guess it really is true what they say: dykes have no style.”
For some reason, the comments about their costumes were what was causing Laura’s temper to flare. “Oh yeah?” she shot back. “And what about you? A slutty vampire? Jeez, how creative!”
Vicky bristled but didn’t lose her cool. “Vampires are iconic,” she retorted smugly. “They never go out of fashion. Nobody needs to guess what I am. Vampires are peak Halloween. Peak horror. Everybody knows that.”
“Ugh. What do you know?” Laura replied furiously. She and Carmen both loved horror—and she knew perfectly well that Vicky didn’t. She was nothing more than a poser. To her, Halloween was nothing more than an excuse to dress up in a way that had the frat boys drooling over her even more than usual. “About lesbians, about Halloween, about vampires—or about anything else.”
“Vampires drink blood, they can’t go out in the sun, and they’re scared of crosses.” Vicky counted her points off on her fingers as she made them. “It’s not that hard, genius.”
“Actually,” Carmen put in. “There’s a lot more to vampires than just that. A whole lot of folklore that most people don’t know the first thing about.”
Laura threw her a look. Unusually, Carmen didn’t sound mad. She sounded like she was up to something.
“Whatever.” Vicky shrugged. “That sounds boring. This is a party, you know? I guess dykes don’t know how to have fun either.”
“It’s actually a lot more interesting than you might think,” Carmen continued. The hairs on the back of Laura’s head stood up when she recognized the tone of voice her girlfriend was slipping into. “Modern vampires are based on legends, and the roots of those legends still shape our modern perceptions. For example, you know the count from Sesame Street? His obsession with numbers is actually rooted in vampire folklore.”
“Huh.” The look on Vicky’s face was still utterly hostile but it was clear that despite herself, she was interested. It helped, of course, that Carmen’s voice was so easy to listen to.
“You see, according to folklore,” Carmen went on, “vampires feel compelled to count things. A traditional way to ward off a vampire was to scatter grains around the entrance of a house. The vampire would need to count them all before entering, and would end up burning up when the sun rose.”
“That’s stupid,” Vicky said guardedly.
“Maybe,” Carmen admitted, smiling. “But I wonder if it would work on you. After all, you’re clearly so in character.”
Vicky scoffed. “Of course it wouldn’t. That’s really stupid.”
“You’d be surprised,” Carmen told her with provocative confidence. “Take it from me, as a psych student: the urge to count is already natural and sometimes, the way we dress can deeply influence our thoughts and behaviors. I bet you wouldn’t be able to resist.”
“You bet, huh?” Vicky suddenly grinned. “Fine. OK. Sure. Let’s bet. Try out your stupid anti-vampire trick on me. If it works, I’ll give you a pass for the night. If it doesn’t, the two of you lesbos have to leave us normal people to party in peace.”
“You’re on,” Carmen was grinning too. “Should be easy for you. All you have to do is keep your head.”
“Bring it!” Vicky said savagely.
Laura wasn’t surprised she was taking the challenge. Vicky was just that arrogant. She was surprised, however, by what Carmen was trying to pull.
“Babe,” she said quietly. “You sure about this?”
Carmen just winked at her. Laura couldn’t help but find that hot.
“OK, let’s do it like this,” Carmen said to Vicky. “Both of us are going to count—you under your breath, me out loud. I’ll count the Fibonacci sequence. You count back from a hundred in threes.”
“The what sequence?” Vicky demanded impatiently.
Carmen sighed. “You know, each number the sum of the previous two? Like… zero, one, one, two, three, five?”
“More nerd shit?” Vicky sneered. “Fine. Back from a hundred in threes sounds easy. I’m a business major, you know. We do a lot with numbers. How do I win?”
“Easy,” Carmen told her. “All you have to do is make it to zero without being distracted by my count.”
Vicky’s grin widened, showing her fake fangs. “Sounds like you’re practically handing me the win! Well, I won’t complain about the chance to kick a couple of loser dykes out of my sorority house. Fine.”
“Laura,” Carmen said. “Why don’t you count us in?”
Laura was already shivering with anticipation. She knew what was happening. And she knew Carmen was going to win.
“Three,” she counted. “Two. One. Go.”
Immediately, Vicky’s lips started mouthing as she counted out: ‘a hundred, ninety-seven, ninety-four.’ She was moving fast but not rushing; pacing herself, so she didn’t make a mistake. After a moment, Carmen started counting too.
“Zero,” she said, her voice suddenly and unexpectedly soft and song-like. “One. One. Two. Three. Five. You know, the sequence always catches me out a little at first. It’s tricky to remember how it starts. Zero, then one—but one plus zero is one, so there’s another one. And then two, of course. One plus one.”
Vicky’s brow furrowed. Already, her counting was slowing down as her numbers became mixed up with the flow of Carmen’s words.
“Sorry, I’m just rambling,” Carmen assured her. “Silly of me. I’m just giving you extra time, aren’t I?”
Laura couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Vicky clearly suspected Carmen was trying to throw her off. Laura knew her girlfriend was intent on something far more fun.
Hypnotizing her.
It was one of Carmen’s passions, born out of her enduring interest in human psychology. Hypnosis had begun as her research subject and progressed to something she and Laura were exploring privately. Just thinking about some of the creative bedroom uses they’d found for hypnosis made Laura’s cheeks burn. And she knew neither of them had been able to help fantasizing about using hypnosis to give bigots like Vicky their comeuppance.
Now, Carmen was finally giving it a shot.
“Eight,” Carmen counted. Her voice was all but irresistible. Laura knew that from experience. She was struggling not to dip into a trance herself. “Thirteen. Twenty-one. Isn’t it funny, how quickly it starts ramping up? Suddenly, the simple addition is getting a little trickier. Isn’t it hard not to wonder about what comes next, Vicky?”
Vicky was slowly blinking as she fought to concentrate. It was clear that she was torn between wanting to tell Carmen to shut up and wanting to try to ignore her completely. Caught on the horns of that dilemma, Vicky was unable to stop herself from following along with Carmen’s count. From doing the very same math Carmen was distracting her with.
“Thirty-four,” Carmen went on. Her voice was perfectly, irresistibly hypnotic. “Fifty-five. Eighty-nine. A hundred and forty-four. Isn’t it crazy how it jumps up into three digits? It almost doubles in just one go. Of course, really, it’s not crazy at all. It’s just the sequence following its own simple rule. Completely predictable. Completely natural.”
Vicky was starting to lose her place. Laura could see it. She was in the seventies, but her lip movements as she counted were growing less and less certain. She couldn’t help listening to Carmen.
“Of course, your sequence isn’t like that at all,” Carmen added. “It’s nice and regular—and it goes down, instead of up. That’s important, isn’t it? Down, down, down. Not adding. Subtracting. Getting close and closer to zero, with every number you count.”
“I…” Vicky breathed, before she could stop herself. Then, she simply froze.
“Lost your place?” Carmen suggested. “That’s OK. You can find it again, right? Or maybe you can even start over from scratch. All you need to do is keep going down. Two-hundred and thirty-three. Three-hundred and seventy-seven. Isn’t that a fun pattern? What comes next, Vicky?”
Strangely, Vicky no longer seemed to be struggling to concentrate. It was like the fight had gone out of her. Her lips were still moving, but they formed nothing but weak, addled gasps that went nowhere.
“You don’t know, do you?” Carmen offered. “The numbers are getting higher and lower and longer and shorter, and you’ve lost track. Why don’t you count along with me instead? Six-hundred and ten. Nine-hundred and eighty-seven. Aren’t these numbers getting large?”
Laura couldn’t help but shiver at the way Vicky’s lips started moving purposefully again—only this time, she was following Carmen’s sequence instead of her own, long-forgotten count.
“Oops,” Carmen smirked. “Look at you. You’re going the wrong way, Vicky. You’re all turned around. All confused. Don’t you remember what you’re supposed to be doing?”
Vicky’s brow furrowed. It was like she was trying to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. She was on the verge of falling.
“Why don’t you just relax, instead?” Carmen whispered seductively. “Give up. Relax. It’s only natural, Vicky. When we get overwhelmed, we just want to relax, instead. To let the numbers fade away. To forget our silly little game and just let yourself… drop.”
She imbued that last word with a singular, forceful intonation, and it seemed to hit Vicky like a physical blow. She swayed for a moment before her shoulders slumped and her head dropped down to her chest.
Hypnotized.
“Oh my god,” Laura said in a hushed, excited voice, after a moment of disbelieving silence. “Did it work?”
“Yeah,” Carmen replied, her excitement barely constrained. “Yeah, it did.”
“She’s in a trance,” Laura stated. “We… we could do anything with her.”
“We sure could,” Carmen agreed.
They exchanged looks.
“It would be wrong,” Laura asserted quickly.
“Would it?” Carmen mused.
“Yes!” Laura told her, trying to make herself believe. “I mean… uh… consent, right? Like between us, or in your experiments, or…” She looked at Vicky again. Their bully wasn’t moving. “I… I can’t believe it was that easy.”
“Guess she’s not such a skeptic after all,” Carmen said.
“Huh?”
“Hypnosis is all about the power of belief,” Carmen explained. “Sure, there’s a bunch of psychological tricks—but at the end of the day, belief is what matters most. It’s surprisingly easy to hypnotize someone who truly believes in it.”
“Right…” Laura swallowed. “We should probably wake her up.”
“We will,” Carmen decided. “Eventually.
“Babe…” Laura warned.
“C’mon,” Carmen wheedled. “We’ll just have a little bit of fun. What’s the harm? It’ll be embarrassing for her, at the worst. Doesn’t she deserve at least that?”
Laura couldn’t find it in herself to deny it. “So… what did you have in mind?”
“I think Vicky needs some help finding her Halloween spirit,” Carmen answered a touch menacingly.
Against her better judgment, Laura giggled. “Yeah?”
Carmen took a step toward Vicky and addressed her in a firm, clear voice. “Vicky, listen to me. In a few moments, I’m going to wake you up, and until I say ‘drop’ again, you’re going to be able to think and move and act just like normal. The only difference is that you’re going to realize that, on Halloween, it’s extremely important that you’re completely in character as a vampire, and that all your behavior is perfectly faithful to the source material. Understand?”
“Yes,” Vicky replied. Laura shivered at the utter lack of emotion in her voice.
“Perfect.” Carmen licked her lips. “Then… one, two, three, wake!”
Vicky lifted her head and her eyes flickered open—and at once, she was transformed.
“Well, well, well,” she purred, with an air of menacing theatricality. “What do we have here? A couple of delicious mortals with which I can sate my thirst!”
As one, both Laura and Carmen burst into laughter.
It was, above all, the contrast. Vicky was the kind of girl who would never, ever have allowed herself to commit to the bit so earnestly. But here she was, throwing herself into the role of a silly, campy, evil vampire with shameless abandon; stalking around the sorority house bedroom and leering at the two of them with an arrogant, ravenous glare.
“You laugh,” Vicky hissed, posing and preening like a dark queen. “But soon you shall know the terror of the vampire’s bite!”
Laura’s laughter redoubled. “Oh my god, babe!” she wheezed. “She really went all the way with it, huh?”
“I didn’t realize she had it in her,” Carmen cackled.
Vicky bared her fangs and let out a much louder hiss. “I loathe to stain my fangs with your degenerate filth!” she declared, lifting her hands with her fingers spread apart like talons. “But it will be my pleasure to rid my unholy domain of your stench.”
Laura quickly stopped laughing. “Wow,” she remarked, a touch impressed. “Even as a vampire, she’s completely homophobic.”
“Why don’t we fix that?” Carmen winked at her.
“How dare you!”
Vicky rounded on Carmen and lunged toward her, mouth open, as if to sink her fake, plastic fangs into her neck. But before she could, Carmen started to speak:
“Vicky! Three, two, one… drop.”
At the word ‘drop,’ Vicky slumped once more. In an instant, all that vampiric theatricality was gone, leaving her nothing more than a blank, hypnotized vessel.
Laura hated finding Vicky attractive, in any context. But seeing her like this really was driving her crazy.
“Dropping nice and deep,” Carmen soothed. “Now, Vicky: remember what I told you about being faithful to the source material? You might not know this, but some of the earliest modern literature surrounding vampires—especially female vampires—is actually about lesbians.”
Vicky seemed to stir for a moment, brow furrowing.
“Oh yes,” Carmen lectured. “The book ‘Carmilla’, for instance. It’s a seminal text, truly. You can’t help but be inspired by it.”
“Can’t…” Vicky echoed, her voice a ghost of itself. “Help…”
“That’s right,” Carmen assured her. “You can’t help it. You need to be a lesbian vampire.”
“L… les… bi…?” Now Vicky was really stirring. Her shoulders tensed, and Laura thought for sure that she was on the cusp of waking. “N-no… that’s… ugh.”
“Just think about it,” Carmen urged softly. “It’s not that you’re a lesbian, Vicky. You’re just pretending. Just dressing up. Isn’t that what Halloween’s all about?”
“I… s’pose,” Vicky murmured—a touch suspiciously, but her stirrings were subsiding.
“Of course,” Carmen agreed. “It just makes sense to pretend on Halloween. To pretend to be whatever you’re dressed up as. And since you’re dressed up as a lesbian vampire, that’s what you’ll pretend to be.”
“Yeah…” Vicky slumped again. “Pretend. Lesbian.”
“Uh-huh.” Carmen was determined to press her advantage. “It’s acting, basically. But here’s the thing about acting, Vicky: the best kind is method acting. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It’s when you totally embrace the role you’re playing, inside and out. It’s when you truly feel it. Right?”
“Right,” Vicky echoed slowly. Her resistance was gone. She was a prisoner of Carmen’s words.
“So,” Carmen concluded. “When I wake you up again, you’ll be a lesbian vampire inside and out. You’ll feel that way. You’ll act that way. You’ll be perfectly faithful to the ideal. Understand?”
“Yes.” Again, Vicky’s voice was devoid of all feeling.
“Perfect.” Carmen took a beat to exchange eager, excited looks with Laura. “Then: one, two, three, wake!”
This time, when Vicky looked open and opened her eyes, Laura and Carmen found themselves in the presence of a very, very different kind of vampire.
“My, my,” Vicky drawled, glancing between Laura and Carmen. “This ought to be a truly delicious night.”
This time, as she started walking around the room, she moved with a distinctly seductive gait, chest held high and hips swaying with each step. Her eyes roamed ravenously over the two lesbians’ bodies, and her voice was thick with a hunger that was as much lust as thirst.
Laura and Carmen started laughing even harder than before.
“Oh my god,” Laura howled, wiping tears from her eyes. “If she could see herself…”
“Told you this was a good idea,” Carmen cackled. She was laughing so hard, she had to rest a hand on a nearby dresser for support.
Surprisingly, Vicky laughed lightly along with them. “You two make a delectable couple,” she declared. “Such complimentary flavors… I can’t wait to savor the taste.”
She opened her mouth, brandishing her cheap, plastic fangs, and then, as she locked eyes with Laura, extended her tongue and stroked it carefully across both pointed tips.
Laura stopped laughing, and a familiar shiver raced down her spine.
She was finding this way, way too hot.
Vicky was hot. As much as Laura wanted to recoil from the thought, there was no use denying it. She had a killer body, and the flashy, gothic vampire getup she was wearing was devastatingly attuned to Laura’s tastes. Normally, the fact that she was a bigot and a bully was more than enough to put Laura off—but now that she was a lesbian vampire, she wasn’t sure she could resist her.
“Tell me, Laura.” As if sensing her weakness, Vicky advanced on her. “Have you ever yearned to be devoured?”
“I… um…” Suddenly, Laura found herself sweating bullets—and she was the one Carmen was giggling at. “That’s… n-no…”
"It sounds perplexing, no?” Vicky was alarmingly close to her now. “But let me let you in on a little secret, mortal: there’s a thrill to be had in being prey.”
The intense, menacing theatricality she poured into that last word made Laura shudder. Carmen was still giggling behind her hand, but Laura could no longer see the funny side. She was too busy wondering how Vicky had figured out that she was the bottom in the relationship.
“Ah, I can see you already feel it.” Before Laura knew what was happening, Vicky had slipped around behind her and was pressed up against her back, the hypnotized girl’s hand cradling her waist. “I can feel your heart beating, Laura. Pumping your veins full of hot, red crimson. Isn’t it intoxicating?”
“Um!” Laura squeaked. She was melting like putty, and it was deathly embarrassing. The worst part was that Vicky was right. She could feel it too. Her heart was pounding with thrilling arousal. “C-Carmen?”
“Shush now,” Vicky whispered. “Her next. We can make it a girls’ night. But you first. I can’t wait to taste every part of you.”
Hearing those words in Vicky’s voice, of all people’s, was doing a number on Laura. It was more than she could handle—especially when Vicky reached up and tipped her unresisting head to one side, and bent in until Laura could feel her breath on her neck.
“C-C-Carmen!” Laura squeaked. She couldn’t take any more of this—and she could tell Vicky wasn’t going to stop.
“OK, OK,” Carmen swiftly stepped in before Vicky’s fangs could meet Laura’s skin. “Vicky. Three, two, one, drop.”
Laura felt the hand on her waist fall away, and she was finally able to slip free of Vicky’s grasp. When she turned to look at the bully, the light in her eyes was gone. Just like before, she was hypnotized.
“O-oh my god,” Laura panted. “That was… uh… um…”
“Hot?” Carmen supplied mischievously.
“Embarrassing!” Laura corrected, blushing fiercely. “I mean, I… that was… with Vicky? No. Nuh-uh. No way.”
“I dunno.” Carmen was still smirking. “It would have been an experience, that’s for sure. And face it: you were into it.”
Laura averted her eyes. “L-let’s just wake her up, yeah? We’ve had our fun.”
“Aw.” Carmen pouted. She looked great when she did that. “No, c’mon. We’re only just getting started. Look, I admit that one got a little out of hand. How about we turn the temperature down a bit?”
“Carmen…” Laura said reprovingly, although she could already feel herself swaying.
“C’mon, babe,” Carmen pleaded. “This is once in a lifetime.”
Laura couldn’t keep the smile from her face. Saying ‘yes’ to her girlfriend was such a delight.
“Fine!” she threw up her hands. “What did you have in mind?”
“Vicky,” Carmen said, addressing the hypnotized bully. “You’re doing good. You’re doing very well, so just keep dropping for me, OK?”
Not a stir. She was completely gone. Laura was in awe of how totally Vicky had fallen under Carmen’s hypnotic power.
“Now, there’s something else you need to start thinking about,” Carmen told Vicky. “You’re a great lesbian vampire, but if you really want to be faithful to the source material, we need to start thinking about where vampires are from. Where is that, Vicky?”
“Trans… Transylvania?” Vicky supplied after a moment, in that distant, empty, trance-voice of hers.
“That’s exactly right,” Carmen agreed. “And Transylvania is in Romania. Eastern Europe. So this time, when I wake you up, you’re going to make sure you have an appropriate accent. Understand?”
“Yes,” Vicky responded.
“Uh… wait,” Laura bleated, eyes suddenly wide. “H-hold on, Carmen, that’s-“
“Oh, it’s just a bit of fun,” Carmen scoffed, before turning back to Vicky. “One, two, three, wake!”
Before Laura could figure out how to stop her, Vicky was already opening her eyes and slipping back into the haughty, preening vampire pose she’d previously been strutting around in. Only this time, when she opened her mouth, her voice was even more ridiculous than before:
“Vell, vell, vell,” Vicky drawled, in a cheesy but surprisingly close approximation of an Eastern European accent. “Vhat a pleasure it is, to zee that ze blossoms of ze new world are so ripe and so lovely.”
Immediately, Carmen bent double and started laughing so hard she almost choked. Laura couldn’t blame her. That way that Vicky, of all people, was throwing herself into the accent was beyond ridiculous. Anyone would have been laughing.
But not her. Instead, beads of sweat were forming on Laura’s forehead.
“My dears,” Vicky said, once again drawing close to Laura. “Von’t you let try a bite?”
Laura tried her very hardest not to let it show—but when Vicky slipped her hand around her waist again, the combination of her natural beauty, her unbelievable costume, and the honeyed, lilting accent pouring out of her mouth, Laura couldn’t help but let out a shrill, needy gasp.
Carmen seized upon it mercilessly.
“Oh my god, babe,” she laughed. “That does it for you?”
“It’s…” Laura whimpered. Her face was burning up. “I-I just have a thing for accents.”
“Vonderful,” Vicky cooed. Eager to torment her, she put her lips as close as she could to Laura’s ear and spoke to her in a sinister, syrupy whisper. “Then, let me speak to you of ze poetry of ze night, and have you vall into my unholy embrace.”
As cheesy as the line was, it had Laura squeezing her legs together with need. It didn’t help that Carmen was also staring at her, and the wicked, malicious look on her girlfriend’s face was equal to the one hypnotically plastered on Vicky’s.
“P-please,” Laura found herself saying, as the fetishistic allure of her situation momentarily overtook her sense of restraint.
“As you vish,” Vicky intoned mockingly.
And bit down on Laura’s neck.
Laura moaned and saw white. Until she felt Vicky’s tongue on her skin, she hadn’t realized quite how turned-on she’d become. But hypnotism, vampires, accents—she had kinks for all of them, and the intoxicating combination had gotten all the way under her skin. Above all, the fact that it was Vicky was getting to her—their homophobic, sorority girl bully, turned silly, seductive, sapphic vampire. It was too much. Even the pain felt good, when Vicky bit down on Laura as if her plastic fangs could actually pierce skin.
“Three, two, one, drop.”
Laura almost resented it, when Carmen used the hypnotic trigger to drop Vicky back into a trance. Still, as the pleasure receded, she acknowledged that it was probably a good thing Carmen had put a stop to matters before anything got truly out of hand.
Then she learned that Carmen intended exactly the opposite.
"Vicky,” Carmen began. “We’ve already established that I know much, much more about vampires than you. Haven’t we?”
“Yes,” Vicky intoned emptily.
“Carmen?” Laura whispered. Her legs were still jelly. She couldn’t move.
“Then you should listen to me about vampires, no matter how absurd what I tell you might seem, should you?” Carmen told Vicky, ignoring her girlfriend.
“Yes.”
“That’s right. And with that in mind, I have something very important to tell you about lesbian vampires. They don’t drink blood. They eat pussy.”
As Laura gasped in shock, Vicky started to twitch violently. “But… ugh… that… gross,” she whined sleepily.
“That doesn’t matter,” Carmen insisted swiftly. “Performers do all kinds of things they’d normally consider gross if it’s for a performance, don’t they?”
“I… suppose…” Vicky was clearly repulsed by the notion, but Carmen’s soft words and confident demeanor were quickly soothing her.
“This is no different,” Carmen told her. “Eating pussy is no different.”
“No…” Vicky was fighting to shake her head. “But…”
“Repeat after me,” Carmen insisted. “Lesbian vampires eat pussy.”
“Lesbian… vampires…” Vicky’s reluctance was obvious—but she was giving in. “E… eat…”
“Lesbian vampires eat pussy.”
“L… Les…” The fight went out of her. Any hint of disgust or disobedience disappeared from her voice, leaving her blank and willing once more. “Lesbian vampires eat pussy.”
“Great.” Carmen licked her lips. “One, two, three-“
“Wait!” Laura blurted out. She was still flushed and flustered beyond belief, but she had to say something. “C-Carmen, we can’t!”
“You want to,” Carmen pointed out.
“I don-“ Laura looked away. “T-that’s not the point. It’s wrong. It’s evil.”
“It’s Halloween, baby,” Carmen winked. “It’s the time of year that evil wins. How about you just sit back and enjoy it?”
Laura wasn’t sure how to convince her. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to. The grin on Carmen’s face was infectious. And when were they going to get another chance to get even with Vicky?
“One,” Carmen counted, sensing Laura’s capitulation. “Two. Three. Wake.”
When Vicky’s eyes opened once more, she had the same hungry look on her face, the same preening, arrogant bearing, and the same ridiculous accent. The only difference was that she wasn’t staring at Laura’s neck anymore.
She was staring between her legs.
“Mortal!” Vicky declared, lapping at her fangs with her tongue. “I vant to drink your cunt! And it is time for ze unholy feast to begin.”
Even Laura had to giggle at how stupid the line was. But her laughter soon turned to needy moaning when Vicky surged forward and sank to her knees, flashing Laura a saucy look before flipping up the hem of her dress and burying her face between her thighs.
When Laura felt Vicky’s tongue touch her cunt, her legs turned to jelly so completely, she had to lean back against a nearby wall for support.
Given that Vicky was completely straight, it was a little ridiculous that she was so good at this.
Perhaps it was simply her naked enthusiasm. Vicky was eating Laura out like her life depended on it. Like every single drop of wetness that touched her lips was the nectar of the gods. She was voracious. A predator tearing into her fallen quarry. Laura had never experienced anything quite like it. It was totally different from the slow, detached, teasing way Carmen usually ate her out. For a queen bitch like Vicky and for the vampire persona she was acting out, the blatant neediness was surprising.
Carmen clearly agreed.
“Three. Two. One. Drop.”
Laura whined loudly when she felt Vicky’s tongue go still.
“C-Carmen!” she complained. “N-not fair.”
“Sorry, babe,” her girlfriend giggled. “I just know how you like it, and I know you’ll enjoy this even more if you get put in your place properly.”
Laura whined louder still. “B-but,” she protested. “It’s Vicky!”
Carmen winked at her. “Exactly.”
The hot flush of shame and arousal that washed over Laura completely robbed her of her words. In the face of her silence, Carmen turned to address the hypnotized bully.
“Remember, Vicky,” Carmen encouraged. “Vampires aren’t just lesbians. Aren’t just blood- I mean, pussy-licking predators. They’re dominant. Powerful. Godlike, even.”
“Dominant,” Vicky echoed, rocking back on her knees. “Powerful. Godlike.”
“Exactly,” Carmen agreed. “Vampires are so arrogant and prideful. They’re always in charge. Even when they’re taking what they need from someone, they never let anybody forget that they’re far, far more powerful than the mere mortals they feed on.”
“More… powerful,” Vicky said slowly.
“Perfect,” Carmen whispered.
Laura swallowed nervously. They had already seen how completely Vicky took to whatever suggestions she was fed. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Carmen was about to create a monster.
Carmen, though, pressed on without a second thought. “One. Two. Three. Wake.”
When Vicky opened her eyes, Laura braced herself for the worst. She wasn’t disappointed. In a single, graceful motion, Vicky rose to her feet—and then disdainfully threw Laura off-balance and sent her sprawling onto the bed. Laura let out a surprised yelp but, like a mouse caught in the jaws of a cat, found herself helpless to move or resist. In an instant, Vicky was upon her, spreading her legs apart and lowering her face toward Laura’s dripping cunt with a merciless look on her face.
“Oh, babe,” Carmen giggled, from behind the hypnotized bully. “You’re in for a treat. I can just tell she’s going to ruin you.”
Laura whimpered in delicious anticipation at the tease. Vicky, though, had a very different reaction. She seemed to freeze up for a moment—and then, curiously, she started backing off. Slowly, Vicky lifted herself off the bed and turned her attention away from Laura.
To Carmen.
Carmen cocked an amused eyebrow as Vicky regarded her with a disdainful glare. That only seemed to light a fire inside her.
“Oh, I zee,” Vicky mused, in that ridiculous accent. “Perhaps you, mortal, vill be my first meal.”
“I will, huh?” Carmen could barely contain her laughter. “God. Who knew I’d have Vicky, of all people, begging to lick my cunt on Halloween?”
“Beg?” Vicky let out a humorless laugh. “No. No, I do not beg. I simply take.”
“Uh-huh,” Carmen scoffed. “And how do you propose to do that?”
From where she was lying sprawled on the bed, Laura could just about see the slow, calculating grin as it spread across Vicky’s face.
“Look,” Vicky said in a very slow, deep voice, after several long moments. “Look into my eyes. Deep into my eyes.”
Laughter erupted from Carmen. “Oh my god. Oh, you cannot be serious.”
“Oh, but I am,” Vicky warned. “You vill look into my eyes. Deep into my eyes. You cannot resist ze eyes of ze vampire.”
As she drew out each word, her accent became more ludicrous than ever. Laura wasn’t laughing, though. She was still too stunned by this turn of events—and besides, when her voice was this slow and soft, there was something oddly compelling about the way Vicky was speaking.
"Fine, fine,” Carmen said, rolling her eyes before meeting Vicky’s gaze. “I’m looking. Deep into your eyes.” She started mimicking Vicky’s accent. “I cannot resist ze eyes of ze vampire.”
“Very good,” Vicky cooed. “That’s right. You cannot resist. The eyes of ze vampire hold power over you. Look into my deep, crimson eyes. Let yourself be ensnared by ze red glow.”
She spoke with absolute confidence. It was as if there was no doubt in her mind that she would be able to hypnotize Carmen. The look of dismissive amusement on Carmen’s face remained, but she kept humoring Vicky.
“You know, those color contacts are actually pretty good,” Carmen remarked, after a moment. She was leaning in, looking carefully. “Almost real. Really rich, deep shade of red.”
Vicky looked faintly baffled by the reference to contacts, but she pressed on without comment. “Rich. Deep. Impossible to resist,” the hypnotized bully drawled. “You feel yourself fascinated by them. Drawn into them. Captivated by them.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Carmen mocked, as she held Vicky’s gaze. “Fascinated. Drawn. Captivated.”
“You cannot look away.”
“I cannot look away.”
“You veel yourself slipping into a trance for my eyes.”
“I…” Carmen twitched uncertainly. It was like she was trying to pull away—but couldn’t. “I feel myself… slipping into a trance?”
Laura’s blood suddenly ran cold.
“Zat’s right,” Vicky said, in a throaty, predatory purr. “I zee that you, mortal, are skilled in ze art of mesmerism. But your foolish mind games are nothing compared to ze vampire’s might. Your knowledge will only be your undoing.”
Laura recalled what Carmen had told her earlier. The more you believed in hypnosis, the more effective it was. And Carmen most certainly believed.
Oh no.
“Falling into my eyes,” Vicky menaced. “Lost forever in my eyes.
“Falling…” Carmen echoed. “Lost…”
The look of bemused disbelief on Carmen’s face had relaxed into a vacant, slack-jawed, captivated grin. Laura had never seen anything like it. Carmen was usually always so focused. So dominant. Seeing her like this was terrifying.
Even if it was also extremely, wildly hot.
“C-Carmen!” Laura called out. She needed to put a stop to this. She needed to make sure Vicky didn’t get any further out of hand. “Wake u-“
“Quiet, girl!” Vicky hissed. Her voice was like the crack of a whip. Still light-headed and weak from her earlier treatment, Laura found herself instinctively lapsing into silence. She couldn’t quite bring herself to disobey Vicky.
“L-Laura…” Carmen blinked slowly. “I was… what was I… were you…?”
“Hush now,” Vicky soothed, slipping back effortlessly into her seductive, hypnotic patter. “Remember. Looking only at me. Only into my eyes. Into ze vampire’s eyes. Letting ze vampire’s eyes consume you.”
“I…” A shiver raced down Laura’s spine as she saw her girlfriend try to look over at her—and fail. “But you’re… not… uh…” Carmen made one last effort to rally herself. “Vicky. Three… two…”
“Shush,” Vicky said swiftly. She reached out and placed one of her fingertips on Carmen’s lips. That was all it took to silence her. “None of that, now. So hard to speak. So easy to look into my eyes instead.”
“So…” Carmen bleated. Her resistance was gone. There was nothing in her eyes. “Hard… easy…”
“Zat’s right,” Vicky purred. “And you should not call me like that, from now on. You shall address me as Victoria.” She licked her lips. “Mistress Victoria.”
“Yes… Mistress Victoria,” Carmen replied mindlessly.
Laura’s entire body throbbed. This was so wrong. This was so hot. It was completely out of control. They had created a monster, and Carmen was no longer capable of putting on the brakes.
“Very good,” Vicky told her. “Now, my thrall. On ze bed. With your beloved. Present yourself to me. I wish to feast.”
“Yes, Mistress Victoria.”
Slowly, robotically, Carmen clambered onto the bed next to Laura and reclined into her back. With Laura still powerless to intervene, Carmen obediently reached down and unbuttoned her slacks, shucking out of her pants and her boxers to expose her pussy to the air. Vicky’s eyes widened, and she licked her lips once more.
“Delicious,” she purred, mounting the bed and lowering her head between Vicky’s thighs. Before she began to eat her out, she turned her head to glance at Laura. “You vill be next,” the hypnotized bully vowed. “And zen ze rest of the pretty young mortals in this sorority house. And then… who knows.”
Laura was left stunned and dizzy as she contemplated that, and then increasingly shocked and aroused as Vicky started licking and lapping at Carmen’s cunt. Carmen had always been the dominant partner in their relationship. A giver, not a receiver. But not anymore. For Vicky, she was nothing more than a weak, prone, mewling submissive.
It was one of the hottest things Laura had ever seen.
She couldn’t help but anticipate her turn with a certain growing eagerness. Laura wasn’t sure when Vicky might come to her senses, if ever, and she wasn’t sure what would happen when Vicky tried to seduce some of the other girls at the Halloween party. It could go badly, although Laura couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, Vicky would manage to pull it off. That would be quite something.
And above all, she found herself thinking: no matter how events played out, Vicky was much, much better this way than she had ever been before.
---
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mrcowboydeanwinchester · 5 months ago
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women in horror
wanted a sapphicnatural anthem so i wrote one <3
this is dedicated to all the women of supernatural, and especially to the people in the fandom who bring them back to life to give them their sapphic happy endings. happy @sapphicnaturalrights sapphicnatural week !!! i tried to hit as many of the prompts as possible in one go <3
lyrics under the cut!
VERSE home alone late at night cold open in the dark light bubble bath, spilling red wine her scream cues the title card
guest appearance, aren't you lucky exposition, keep it clunky mystery isn't the only thing she makes hard
PRE-CHORUS tiny top, thick makeup white and lacy linen lipstick pop, DD cup bloody in your visions oh, she's a woman in horror come and tell me you want her handcuff torn, baby born losing is a given monster turn, crash and burn i know why you're driven oh, she's a woman in horror come and
CHORUS bury your girls bury your gays you like pretty women (yum) but you love your cliches she's coming back wrong i'm making it right once i get my shovel we'll keep you up at night (oh?) we'll keep you up at night (okay)
([british accent] so basically, she- am i american or not? i can't remember. oh. um. [american accent] is this accent okay?)
VERSE bloodthirsty kiss and chase through hell's fire and heaven's grace slow panning shots up to her face (that's hot) that's a wrap on her screentime
credits rolling, she's the last name find a plot hole, give her the blame she's a hot one but it's a shame about her crimes (ew)
PRE-CHORUS tiny top, thick makeup white and lacy linen lipstick pop, DD cup bloody in your visions oh, she's a woman in horror come and tell me you want her handcuff torn, baby born losing is a given (yeah) monster turn, crash and burn i know why you're driven oh, in a fatal genre she's dead cos you (laughter into manic shriek)
CHORUS bury your girls bury your gays you like pretty women but you love your cliches she's coming back wrong i'm making it right (yeah) since i've got my shovel we'll keep you up at night we'll keep you up at night
([american accent] so his girlfriend burns to death, so he wants revenge, but then she comes back to life, like - nonono, his mom comes back to life, because she also burned to death-)
BRIDGE me and bloody mary are getting off in the back of your daddy's car stole your silver bullets, the witches and i making magic, we go so far for women in white for mothers and wives for demons and daughters resurrection time the write to survive she's coming alive for women in horror resurrection time !!!
CHORUS you bury your girls you bury your gays i love all your women and i hate your cliches she's coming back strong i'm making it right now i've got my shovel we'll bury you deep at night we bury you deep at night
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prettynice8 · 10 months ago
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Happy Birthday Bitch
Min Yoongi or Suga or Agust D x male reader, haters to lovers
Tumblr media
The birthday boy
Stuff: Swearing, bottom reader, top Suga, sub reader, dom Suga, homophobic Suga but it's ok it's internalized, kissing but like aggressive, hate fucking, doggystyle, male reader, dick sucking (Suga receiving), creampie, kinda gay ngl, non-idol au, college au.
Word Count: 1,509
Summary: You and Min really hate each other. Anyway, he is having a birthday party and your friend invited you. Then the birthday boy demands his present from you or something.
Notes: sorry I haven't posted anything in a while, I just didn't really want to. Also fun fact, Suga used to be my least favorite member, I just thought that he was kind of boring compared to the other ones, but then I saw him rap in the Butter music video and had an epiphany of biblical proportion. Oh and Happy Birthday Suga.
It is moments like these that make you really hate your friends. Not only are they attending HIS party, but those butt sluts also invited you to come along. Those bitches were fully aware of your utter disdain for that fucking shit eating brainless fucking fucker, and yet they asked if you wanted to go. You said yes nonetheless but that is not the point.
You could never say no to a fun party, and the prospect of getting railed tonight was admittedly very pleasant sounding. You were aware that even though you hated the guy, he was very popular for some reason that you could never grasp.
He was just another dude who had nearly no personality or substance. A dumb look on his face that makes all the stupid bitches fawn over for some reason. Like he is not even that hot, sure he has an ab or two but that is it.
These thoughts kept swimming through your mind as you opened the door to the party that you could hear from miles away. As you walked in the smell of alcohol and the sight of random flashing lights was almost enough for you to pass out, the parties should be, which is almost even more angering that it came from HIM.
You were a little late because you only decided a few minutes ago that you were actually going. You made your way to the previously mentioned asshole friends that were invited to this place, but you were stopped by the man of the hour himself, Min Yoongi.
"I thought I had a no fags allowed rule." Yoongi stated, laughing at his own lazy "joke" if you can even call it that. The sudden appearance makes you jump, causing him to laugh more.
"Ew why are you talking to me!" You remarked disgustingly. "Don't you have other people to bother?"
"None as fun as you." He said, the shit eating smirk already on his face.
"Get a life." You snap at him, growing angrier every second you are in his presence. Almost walking away until he walks right in front of you, stopping your escape.
"Why are you even here?" He asked, arms crossed over his chest.
"You invited the whole school you stupid bitch." You responded aggressively, wanting this fucker gone.
"Fucking cock sucker." He exclaimed, laughing once again.
"Was that supposed to be an insult because you're just stating the obvious." You responded matter-of-factly, causing his laugh to stop and his face to solidify. "Or are you trying to start something?" You then winked at him, enjoying the uncomfortable silence he is giving you.
"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" He questioned back, his frustration growing as he stared daggers at you.
"Are you ever enjoyable to be around?" You asked, already knowing the answer being no. You try to walk away again but he grabs my arm and whispers in your ear.
"Why don't I make you." He started calmly. His voice actually sounded hot? Whatever it was, it did something to you. Confusion stirs inside of you as your mind races, though the inner turmoil is cut short when you feel something poking into your ass, already aware of what it is.
You let out a quick gasp, Min Yoongi, the man who hates you the most out of anyone you have ever known, is it hard for you? and you are getting turned by it? This must be a dream. Pinch me now.
"I'm going to do way worse." Yoongi stated. Wait, did he hear you, did you let that slip. What the fuck is happening. These thoughts spread through your mind, all of the noises and people all around you die down, Yoongi being the only thing on your mind.
"Let's go somewhere more... private." He ordered before taking your arm and leading you to his room
He brings you to his room, locks the door, and slams you into it, desperately kissing you.
His lips feel surprisingly good with your own, soft yet solid enough to leave quite the impact. You kiss him back just as desperately, your hands already going to take his shirt off, which he helps you with. Once it is off his lips crash right back on to yours where they belong.
He starts to become even more needy, diving his tongue into your mouth and exploring every part he can. His hands take your ass in vice grip as yours explore his broad and muscly torso, following each tone of his body.
"I still hate you." He said between tongue entanglements.
"Ditto." You said before diving right back in, but his hand stops you.
You let out muffled wails of confusion and frustration until he finally justifies himself. "I think your mouth can be used for more important things." was the last he said before bringing you to your knees.
Being an experienced little diva, you know exactly what to do. You strip his pants and boxers off in a single swipe. His throbbing member was already begging for your attention, you hated the guy but had to admit that he was packing some serious artillery.
Your hands begin to work on his shaft, pumping it slowly up and down while giving the tip light kisses, but that wasn't enough for him. So he shoves your head straight down onto his massive cock.
You take him so easily, his cock already all the way in. You begin moving your head up and down his length, the tip hitting your throat every time.
"God you're fucking good! I guess you had to be at something." He groaned, you respond by nipping him a little bit, which he responds with by fully fucking your throat.
He grabs your hair tightly and goes to mother fucking town. Thrusting his hips into your mouth, almost making you cum just from this, the thought of this monster going in your ass scares you so much it is sexual.
He finally starts emptying his balls into your throat, taking you off his dick. He doesn't even have to ask you to swallow before you have already done so.
"Fucking whore." He said as he picked you up and threw you onto the bed. Wasting no time with taking off your clothes, literally ripping your shirt in half.
"Hey!" You yell.
"You won't be going anywhere for a while, so shut the fuck up and get on your hands and knees." He demanded unapologetically.
You do exactly as he says, wanting to get fucked by his massive cock so badly it almost hurts.
He wastes no time with foreplay, only giving you one quick kiss which was surprisingly sweet, a spank, and he was off. He plunged is dick into you, bottoming out in one quick thrust.
Tears spilled from your eyes, but you can think about that right now when he is already going full force, fucking your ass like a semi-truck, that actually would be gentler.
He has a death grip on your hips that will absolutely bruise, he also keeps spanking your ass repeatedly leaving it bright red, his teeth also leaving love bites all over your neck, but you cannot thing about any of that when he is pounding into so hard, leaving all other sensations feel like child's play.
You would say that Yoongi is only chasing his own pleasure but then he starts pumping your painfully hard dick. He also occasionally plays with your sensitive nipples, how kind.
The sounds of Yoongi's groans and skin hitting skin is nothing compared to the sound of your moans filling the room and probably the house itself, oh yeah there was a party going on.
The thing on your mind is Yoongi's hand pulling your hair, the other gripping your ass, his lips leaving light kisses and love bits on your neck, his crashing into you, and his ass deeply hitting your ass.
"God fucking dammit, you take me so well pretty boy." He complimented, waited, complemented. Did Min Yoongi himself just give you a compliment, and call you a pretty boy? What the fuck is happening.
"I'm close, I'm going to cum right into you." He stated.
He pulls you back, so your back is touching his chest and pulls you into a deep kiss. Unlike the ones earlier where it was all sexual, this felt almost loving, like the one he gave you before permanently ruining your insides.
That was all you needed before shooting ropes of cum onto the mattress. He follows suit right into you, filling your insides with hot cum.
You crash onto the mattress, completely fucked out of your mind. Yoongi gets off the bed and leaves, good riddance you think.
Until he comes back with a rag to clean you up. He tosses it and gets right into his bed with you. Yoongi pulls you up and lays your head on his chest, giving you one quick kiss on the forehead.
"Best. Present. Ever." He said.
"Happy birthday bitch."
THE END
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUGA 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 🎂 🥳
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bigfan-fanfic · 11 days ago
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Some Type of Way (Male!Reader x Joel Miller)
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Sarah smirks at her father as the man helps her gather her overnight bag for the sleepover.
"Wipe that look off your face it or it'll stay like that." Joel nudges her shoulder playfully. "What are you even smirking about?"
"Someone has a daaaaaaa-aaaaate."
"Smart mouth."
"Buy my silence."
"I'm letting you go on this sleepover, aren't I?"
"Yeah, cause you have a daaaaaa-"
He tugs her out of the kitchen by her backpack. "All right, I have a date. Happy?"
When she finally gets to plant her feet, she looks up at him. "Are you? I mean... how many dates is this? Have you two-"
Joel raises an eyebrow. "Do you really wanna ask that question, baby girl?"
"Ew. No, never mind." she shudders. "But still... you like him a lot."
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"Dad?"
The car pulls up. She has to go, but he can tell this is important. "Yeah, baby girl?"
"I like him too." she says softly.
Joel hugs her tight for a moment and they share it together. All the things they don't say, all the hopes they have. Then she smirks again.
"Say hi to him for me."
"Will do. Now you call me if anything happens. I got you that dang cell phone for emergencies."
"Yeah, Dad!"
She breezes off, and Joel stands on the porch, distracted, until you pull up.
He holds you tight when you hurl yourself into his arms, pulling you inside, closing the door on the world so he can just experience you.
Joel's life is pretty stressful. Being a single dad, dealing with his less-than-steady carpenter work, and trying to muddle through. But you are always his oasis, it seems.
He wants to give the people he loves everything, and he hates that he sometimes can't give them all he thinks they deserve.
But you don't ask for much, really. No matter how many "stay-in" dates with crappy spaghetti with store-bought sauce he makes, you don't ask to go out for fancier meals. Sometimes you even take him out.
Sarah likes you too - you relate to her well, even if you try to not get involved in her raising, knowing Joel might take offense.
He feels some type of way about you. And though you both know he's head over heels for you, you've never rushed him to say it.
Joel has always been uneasy about owing people. But with you, the emotion of gratitude is something powerful.
"I thought we would cook together this time, so I brought some stuff." you grin, and he kisses the top of your head.
"And here I thought I'd be your personal chef tonight. What, you don't like my spaghetti?"
You wink. "I love your spaghetti. But I think you'll love my garlic bread more."
When you first started dating, Joel was rigid in trying to maintain the role he thought he had to play. Provider and rock, masculine and constantly steady.
But your ease and the comfort you bring to him has allowed him to soften, to show you his true self, the one that usually only comes out around Sarah.
He's a jokester, with a wry and sarcastic wit, but also happy to follow along and find something to enjoy or find something humorous in any situation.
He puts on some music from an old CD and you two dance with each other as you cook and bake the garlic bread.
"I'll handle the cleanup. So we don't have to worry about it in the morning." you offer, and Joel winks.
"You mean I ain't kicking you out right after tonight?" he teases, and you smack him in the gut. "Fine, fine, but you let me cook breakfast for you."
"Oh, you drive a hard bargain, sir. But I guess I'll allow it. Besides, I got the whole weekend off, so I can stay over if you want."
Joel comes over, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the back of your neck. "Do you have to leave?"
He's asked things like this before, flirting and romantic, but you sense something... more, this time.
"Well... my lease will be up in a couple of months."
He stiffens, recognizing the unsaid offer, and then he hugs you closer. "I'll have to talk to Sarah about it, but... how would you feel about moving in here?"
"Are you sure, Joel? I know you're starting to save up for your startup and-"
"I want this. You. I want to wake up with you and take you to bed. I think I wanna share my life with you. Fully."
There's a moment you turn and kiss him where he knows he should say it, but he just can't, yet. He's far too cynical and far too wounded to say it without knowing for sure.
But ironically, the fact that you don't push is bringing him to that conclusion anyway. "You make me feel some type of way, Joel Miller."
He kisses you back, barely resisting the urge to pick you up and carry you off right then. "So do you, babe. So do you."
He'll tell you. Soon enough. After all, you two will have all the time in the world...
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jihyoruri · 1 year ago
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— TWILIGHT & JEALOUSLY: KIM CHAEWON. warnings: swearing, wow!kim chaewon x wow!yn i suggest you read my other wow fics before this one they’re in my masterlist <3
chaewon has been going insane since the last time yujin, wonyoung and yn came over, she didn’t understand why yujin and wonyoung got so tense at the mention of yn hanging out with winter, but she wanted to know why.
she will admit that she probably shouldn’t have brought up yn’s business like that, but she just wanted yn’s attention so bad, yn was giving so much to kazuha that it made her feel insecure, the way you were acting with kazuha was the same way you acted with her when you guys first interacted, you can say chaewon thought she was special, but she should’ve known especially that day she caught yn and minji at hybe, but that was also the same day yn gave her the star ring so can you really blame her?
she hates the way yn fills her mind, the way yn looked at her that day, like she was mad at her, everywhere she goes something reminds her of you, which is why today was such a coincidence.
chaewon was walking out the cafe when she saw yn in all of her glory, you were leaning against on of the walls and chaewon stood rigid.
her gaze burned into yn scanning the girl, the top that stopped a little bit above her bellybutton, the way the baggy pants hung low on her hips showing the star tattoo on your lower abdominal, the baseball cap that hides the girls cat like eyes.
why does she have to look good all of the time? chaewon thought to herself as she stared at you not even realizing that you caught her.
chaewon cringes when she snaps out of her daze only to make eye contact with you, she doesn’t know what to do, turn the other way? yeah that’s a good option.
before chaewon can try and turn around you make a motion for the girl to come over, she turns to take a look behind her before turning back to yn and pointing towards herself, which you respond with a nod and an eye roll.
chaewon timidly walks towards you, she’s only now realizing how tall yn is, she takes notice that she’s right under your chin when reaches she you.
“yes…” she trails off, feeling a bit intimidated.
“I should be asking you that.” your deeper voice fills her eras, “I mean you’re the one that was staring at me.”
she looks up at you and scratches the back of her neck, “I was just shocked to see you here… also the last time I saw you, you seemed pretty mad at me.”
chaewon’s hands practically shake when all yn does is stare at her, she feels a little scared, that was until yn’s laugh is heard.
she looks at you confused as you continue to laugh, “you’re so cute unnie.”
chaewon feels her face heat up in embarrassment, “cute? I should be the one calling you cute, I’m older.” she says in faux anger, glaring up at you.
you lean down towards her with a smile, “then call me cute.” yn say’s teasingly.
chaewon’s face was about as red as a fire truck, “what are you doing here anyways?” she asks trying her best to cool down her face and that’s when she finally takes notice of the plastic bag in your hand.
“I was at my moms today and she told me to bring my sister some food.” you say waving the bag in the shorter girls face.
sister?
as if you could read her mind, you let a deep sigh, “you know that one in new jeans? the annoying creature with a twilight obsession.”
chaewon wants to laugh at your description but holds it down, she opens her mouth to say something but gets cut off by a voice, “unnie!”
both you and chaewon turn your heads to see two members of newjeans with their arms linked together, one being your sister and the other being her member minji.
“did you bring the food?” you sister asks, a bright smile lighting up on her face when you give her the bag before giving you a side hug. “thank you.”
“ew, you’re sweaty.” yn says pushing her away playfully, “and you sink more than you usually do.” you say flicking her forehead, laughing when her mouth drops in offence, before she takes notice of chaewon.
she quickly bows at chaewon as a greeting, minji following closely behind doing the same.
yn seems to finally take notice of the other girl and smiles, “hey minji.” she says flashing the girl a wink.
chaewon feels like she’s having déjà vu as she watches minji blush and smile back at yn, is it in your daily routine to flirt with someone in front of her ?
“you’re taking care of my sister right?” yn asks, raising a brow as she puts her arm around minji’s shoulder, smiling when the girl nods quickly, “that’s good.” she say’s tucking a hair behind minji’s ear.
your sister loud groan is heard as she throws her head back, “stop flirting with my member!” she says pushing your arm.
“I’m not, I was just asking your pretty member a question, is there a problem?” yn asks pouting mockingly in her sisters face.
your sister opens her mouth but it’s chaewon’s turn to cut her off as she clears her throat getting all your attention as you take your arm from minji’s shoulder, “shouldn’t you guys be practicing?” she asks pointing at minji and yn’s sister.
she avoids your gaze as you take a look at her, your sister nodding at chaewon as she grabs minji’s arm, “yes we should actually, thank you for reminding us.”
as she walked away with minji she doesn’t forget to yell a goodbye out to you.
chaewon looks back up at you as you stare at her, “what?”
you laugh throwing your head back before looking back down at her, “you’re a funny girl chaewon.”
she furrows her eyebrows at yn looking at the the taller girl in confusion, “you’re so cute when you’re jealous.”
chaewon feels her heart drop, “jealous? I wasn’t jealous.” she’s quick to defend herself, humiliation taking over her as yn laughs and shakes her head before leaning her lips to the shorter girls ear.
“I know you have a crush on me.” yn’s raspy voice whispers in her ear and chaewon’s legs feel weak, this couldn’t be happening.
chaewon feels frozen as yn continues, “and that shit you pulled the other day was not cool,.”
yn leans up from chaewon’s ear, a smirk growing on her face at the look on the older girls face, “but don’t worry I’m not mad.”
“I…” chaewon trails off, trying her best to find words but she couldn’t.
yn’s ring tone is heard and chaewon visibly relaxes as she answers.
“hey jiwon..” yn answers putting the phone to her ear, she hums at the word that are being spoken on the phone.
chaewon watches as yn converses with her member, she doesn’t know if she feels sadness or relief when yn walks away from her pressing the phone closely to her ear.
but what she does know is that yn knows that she likes her and that’s scary.
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