#and now this guy is gonna be out of my life within the next two weeks

[inkedlove]

Crushes are wild this shit sucks

[kooyabooya]

PARADIGM

m reader x yunjin // 19k words

Let’s get one thing straight: it’s incredibly difficult to get a good read on Huh Yunjin. 

Goes without saying, she’s the girl that everyone wants. Exuberant on a vibe that’s very easy to fall into whenever she steps foot into the room; anyone within less than a three feet radius can notice it at first glance. 

You’re bumping shoulder to shoulder with friends around the table -  having a good laugh over lunch while she’s passing by with the slightest bit of eye contact with you and, fuck. 

(Yeah, that’s usually how all good stories start.) 

–

One big question that people would ask: how did all of this come to be in the first place with you and Yunjin?

You see, it’s kind of a long story. 

(Technically, not really.)

It’s your fourth year of college. Not counting the additional fifth year because of some loose ends coursewise; you’re near the finish line, nonetheless. 

Kazuha has been your roommate and close friend since the second year. She met you by random chance during orientation the first year but didn’t actually build a sense of closeness until you and her shared two classes together in between. Since she sat next to you in the lecture hall that first day of the new semester, she’s tagged along with you in the dining hall, the library, in some club activities that you were the plus one in, a few scattered parties here or there, and occasionally times where you’re nursing Kazuha for having one too many drinks. 

In some ways, she’s the opposite of your ideal paradigm, or at least how you want things to be in the fast-paced style of college. 

It’s through Kazuha where you meet Sakura. The first impression of her in comparison to Kauzha is that Sakura’s the kind of girl who knows exactly what she wants in her life. She’s foot to the floor, no bullshit type of deal. You don’t really have any classes with her specifically since she’s busy down in the fashion part of campus, but drops by to chill with you and Kazuha in between her long hours of sketching and crocheting. To Sakura’s credit also, she’s the one who roped in Kazuha on the party side of things, always coming over on Friday nights to pick her up and giving you some sort of codename through text to signify that Kazuha royally fucked herself over and needs a designated driver, or another word to let you know that she’s getting her legs split open by some guy that they met at the club. 

(You’ve dealt with it for so long since the first time, it’s basically kind of the norm when she brings over her boytoys while you’re also in the house. Some of the guys are nice, and one of them was actually one of your classmates - so, that was a bit weird for a short while.)

Moving forward, 

It’s lunch, probably on a Tuesday or Wednesday; your mind was already plagued with the bombardment of assignments and extracurriculars filling up your calendar. Kazuha and a few others in your circle are beating the dry autumn heat by taking refuge in the student center, occupying one of the conversation spots debating over something stupid. One of your friends tells you to dish your opinion and you tell them that you’re too checked out to even listen to the topic that they’re discussing. Now that we’ve got that sorted, can you guys let me put my head back down? You plead, earning a few laughs and a shoulder rub from Kazuha sitting next to you. 

“Have you eaten yet?” Kazuha asks you, sitting up to grab your nearly empty water bottle. “God, it even sounds unnatural for me to be worried for you.” 

“I had like-” you say, chugging down the bottle, letting the plastic crunch around your hand, “-a big breakfast, and I’m just tired. Thank you for asking.” 

Kazuha gives you a light shove while you let out a small laugh, acting like the blowback was gonna have you fall off the table. She hates how much you fake things with her, but it’s not her fault how unbelievably gullible she’s made herself to be. “This is exactly why you’re not dating material.” 

Another one of your friends sitting chimes in, “That’s a little rude coming from you, Kazuha.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” she refutes, hands up to proclaim her innocence. “You guys should be the one to press him since he almost skipped class this morning.” 

“Only because I overslept from the night before doing an assignment that took way longer than I expected.” You state your case, reaching in your bag for a small ziploc of cookies, sliding it over to your classmate sitting on the opposite end of the corner. “And are we not gonna talk about how Kazuha slept with one of the people in my accounting class?” 

“Yeah, what the hell is all that about Zu?” Jisun asks suddenly, sitting next to Kazuha on the left side, “Since when have you been sleeping with guys on a weekend basis?” 

“Ever since Sakura brought her out clubbing one Friday night,” you butt in, fingers to your temple and elbow on the table, reminiscing on the memories like some war flashback, “You guys should see what it's like back at the apartment.” 

“What was the initial reaction to seeing your classmate from accounting?” someone at the table asks, “God, that must be like, so weird to see them walking down the hallway.” 

“Believe me,” you breathe, not sure whether to be shocked or disappointed at the memory, “I talked to him on the way out the next morning and he asked me about our next lecture.” Kazuha bumps your shoulder to let you know that she was in on the conversation that morning after, “At least he has his priorities straight after the one night stand.” 

Kazuha's face cringes out towards the group which makes everyone laugh, including you. One of the other table members joke about this story of someone doing the walk of shame after getting caught in the science building by security, discreetly pointing them out since they walked by on the opposite end of the walkway. The way they had their hoodie up covering their face in public, can’t help but feel bad for them. 

At the same time, two girls walk towards your table, on the edge. One of them was slightly taller than the other with a different hair color as well. Your attention was focused on the taller person, who had a prep school type of vibe in their appearance. She was wearing a plaid skirt, high socks with stilettos, one earbud on while she’s looking over to her friend talking about something - not wanting to wonder what they’re talking about. 

It’s when she looks out to the windows behind your table, where there’s this weird feeling in you that shifts the balance of the universe it seems like. Nothing ever in your life makes you stop and wonder if the next day would be your last, but in this case - well, the only case, where a girl crosses your path and makes you lose every bit of composure built up in a matter of seconds. 

This girl is cute. That’s the first (and evident) note of observation. What makes it even more puzzling is how this girl is maintaining eye contact with you the whole time as she’s walking. Everyone around the table is stuck in a state of confusion while you suddenly stood up without any reason. Kazuha notices the glances from you and the girl passing by, assessing, connecting the dots together, and she looks back with a realizing ‘ahh’ leaving her mouth. 

Once you sit back down, the girl walking by looks forward, but does a double take back at you that only solidifies the growing mystery brewing in that short connection. The table all exchange looks at each other, wondering what in the fuck happened just now, and they have questions. 

“Uh,” one of your friends sounded off to break the silence, “What was that just now?” 

“Yeah,” another adds on while clearly trying to put it together with pointer fingers, “That wasn’t normal.” 

“Clearly,” you say, scratching your neck to play off the awkward exchange of eyes. “Who was she?” 

“The girl?” Kazuha beams, “Huh? Oh! That’s Yunjin! She and I actually go way back. I didn’t even realize that was her because of her hair color.” 

“Are you serious?!” Jisun asks, distraught at the name itself, “You’re friends with Yunjin? The Yunjin that everyone wants to get with here around school?!” 

While Kazuha drops the short summary of her backstory with her childhood friend, one of the other guys at the table walks over to you with hands on your shoulders, massaging them as a way of saying congratulations to getting one of the hottest girls on campus to notice you. You’re still processing - it might be a coincidence, or accepting the fact that one-in-a-million moment will never happen again. 

“Alright you guys,” you say, shouldering on your backpack while patting down the hoodie, “As much as I’d love to stay and chat about what just happened with that little staring contest, I’ve gotta go to class.” 

“Boo, no fun,” Kazuha says, pointing a thumb down while a few others around the table are doing the same thing, “Hope you have fun in your class, or sleep through the boring lecture at least.” 

You walk off with a subtle wave, and that’s where the story should end, without ever hoping for a second interaction with Yunjin in your life anytime soon. The staredown for a few seconds would be funny to think about for the rest of the day, but the story will be something to joke about long after getting y’know; life and everything else together. 

–

Or so you thought. 

Turns out that your afternoon class is running later than usual, an email notification from your professor spelled out the message of him being stuck in traffic due to an accident on the way here. Some students are just lounging on the seats while others have their heads down to catch up on sleep - you could also use the power nap, too. Let’s not forget about the type A students reading into their textbooks and iPads sitting at the front row, could be you if you actually tried but you’re good with just doing enough for your own academic standards. 

Kazuha texts you that she’s gonna be late tonight, probably because of some cramming with Jisun or Saerom or whoever she tagged along with that isn’t Sakura, hitting a fast reply of okay, i’ll make sure to save some food for you when you get back.

Right when you hit send, the empty seat next to you becomes occupied, and the hair color looks a little too familiar from the millisecond glimpse out of your peripheral. Her fragrance comes off as coconut, maybe something syrupy, but the sigh of relaxation curtained by her overcast shade of sunset cherry in her hair, how she swivels her head towards your direction; determined, upbeat, and strikingly beautiful. 

“Hi,” Yunjin says, and you’re stuck frozen with parted lips. There’s a sudden chill running down your spine, a snap of the door being shut by one of the students that almost mocks the sound of a gun being fired in a closed-off chamber. There isn’t any sunlight that’s breaking through the overhanging windows beneath the top half of the class, but you’re simply starstruck from the mash of highlights in her almond eyes, the rose pink shade of her lips, her sunset colored hair that looks unreal for someone to have, how you might be thinking of the radiating beams of light shooting on the edge of her stature; no this isn’t a mere hallucination or a prank from someone else, this is actually the real deal. “I wasn’t here for the last lecture, so would it be okay if I could borrow your notes?” 

You hate how vulnerable you are in this state. You would’ve answered in an instant, but this is Huh Yunjin we’re talking about here. Oh, by the way, you should probably say something before–

“Sure.” you answer, snapping yourself from the momentary trance of this girl’s beauty sitting next to you, rummaging through your backpack to pull out your notebook following your tablet, sliding it over while Yunjin clasps her hands together in prayer, bowing her head as thanks for not turning her down. “It’ll be the page before the blank one when you flip through it.” 

“Thanks.” she says, happily flipping through the notebook to see the contents of your notes, tongue stuck to the corner until reaching the most recent page. Reaching in her bag for the pencil case and notebook already opened, she begins to jot down whatever missing material she has while you observe her work. 

Her penmanship is actually pretty to look at, and the fact that she puts a curve up with her apostrophes - not to mention the amount of small cat ears and hearts she doodles with on her page while reading your notes? Yeah, you’re a goner already. 

And for the most part, how could you not be? You’re already entranced at the way her hands twiddle the mechanical pencil, how her nails clack along the desk, how she’s reciting terms and the articulation behind her words sound very intricate and clear. An elbow’s holding your head while your eyes skim through the words being transferred over from your notebook to yours; watching the drawbridge of her eyebrows quirk up at some unknown, but her whisky colored eyes spark up along with the arch, appearing bigger, can’t help with the force in your heart smiling at the sight of learning something useful. 

“-and when this occurs, oh- I see.” She’s nodding at the understanding of what she’s quickly reading. This is someone who knows what they’re doing, who has their priorities straight; humming with pure delight with the way she likes learning. Hang on a second, when the hell was she part of the class?

“Take it that you’re done with this?” you ask, fingertips grazing the rings of the notebook while Yunjin sets her pencil flat on the desk. 

“I’ve already got what I need to catch up on, thank you.” Her laugh is subtle, and quiet, closing up the book and sliding it back towards you while tending to her own. “Thought I’d be missing a lot, but good to know that I wasn’t.” 

“In this kind of class? You could say fuck all with the attendance and just come in for the exams.” 

Her head dips down, eyes sweeping from one corner to the other. She’s hiding the smile, but there’s something lovely about the way her mouth quirks. That dimple is a lovely sight, a gold medal you’ll keep in your head, whether she’s interested or not. 

She puts the pencil back into her case, zips it across halfway. “Can I ask,” she says, twisting her body to face yours, “You’re close with Kazuha, right?” 

“If you consider me to be her roommate as close, then, yes.” 

Yunjin gawks at you in shock, connecting the dots, another point brewing. 

“You’re the same person that I saw while walking in the hall earlier? Oh my God!” she realizes, trying to keep her excitement down in the quiet classroom. “I was hoping that she’d help me in meeting you, but-” 

“Looks like you skipped the hard part all by yourself.” you tell her, acknowledging, blinking with a wide grin. “I know enough from her about you, but she’ll be thrilled to hear about this after.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

You notice the small stack of post-it notes sitting adjacent to Yunjin’s pencil case, pulling one from the stack and writing down something on the paper that you didn’t think of having the courage to do in the first place. 

A smooth operator move, she chuckles at the phone number sketched on the small slip. 

This probably might be your favorite day to attend class so far this semester.

–

For what’s it worth, the attention garnered around you and Yunjin wasn’t asked for. If anything, the noise around campus just made it a bigger deal than what it actually seemed. The added reputation didn’t even feel forced from others - much rather the opposite; almost in mixes of praise and pats on the back for doing something that most couldn’t be able to do. 

Some would ask too, about what it’s like ‘dating the hottest ticket around college?’ or ‘who made the first move?’ 

To that, you shake your head and laugh, though the answer to the first question in itself was quite simple to say:

Pretty fucking crazy at times - but good, mostly great. 

Honestly, you’d also imagine this sort of parallel universe where you’re not in a relationship with Yunjin. What would it be like? A few of the positives would probably be the better balance between classes, or maybe the cash in your wallet and card would be a little bit more than what it is now; god, the list can just go on the more you think about it. Worrying would be overstepping the thought itself, complicating the mental picture would make it even more cathartic. Bottom line is: it’s a surreal thing to actually be with someone who’s ten times out of your league. 

Some would also ask, what’s your favorite thing about her? 

Man, that’s already a tough question as it is, so that one doesn’t get answered easily.

Best that you could settle for is the way she presents herself. One day she walks in the classroom as if it’s the runway at Paris Fashion Week with the most jaw-dropping outfits created by the industry’s best designers - the next day she could walk in with the most casual, comfy fit ever created from the bedroom closet. From the makeup and hair color all the way down to her shoes and socks, she’ll magnetize anyone with low or high effort. There’s something in the way that she extends herself to others; the way her eyes widen at someone she knows, how the sun kisses her skin so tenderly - radiating richness and grandeur to compliment the addicting smile and laugh she possesses. When you look closely, you could also see the tiny hints of freckles spread across her cheeks; oh, and the moles, specifically underneath her right eye and off-centered to her nose, you’d kiss them for eternity if you had the chance to. 

It’s unfair how you can’t compete with that. 

How could a person that’s on the cusp of making a whole world’s difference with their life manage to get with a guy like you? Had it been anyone else in your position, they’d be the happiest person on the planet, no denying that. There has to be an endless plethora of things that could serve a plausible reason to this, but out of everyone, she chose you. 

(The standard she has. The status, the reputation, the talks that people have when she’s strolling through the hallways and around campus.

Everyone can read the outside aspect, but within the inner circle, it’s a completely different conversation entirely.)

“And let me tell you this,” Kazuha says, leaning back on the seat with one leg over the other, “He told me that and I quote, ‘I would go all night with you,’ and he didn’t. Came in about two minutes flat, maybe less.” 

You’re facepalming hard while Kazuha pushes you close to the edge, almost offended by your reaction. The amount of stories with her short-term flirts and one night stands have gotten so bad to the point where, only a stark few of them were worthy enough of a debrief by you. This usually occurs on a weekend basis, you assess, not wanting any part of it after the first time it happened - and then the next, then the next, and the next one. 

“Have you ever wondered like,” you ask while reaching forward for your glass half full of your usual liquor, “Wanting to actually date with one of your fuck buddies, like for real?” 

“I’ve thought about it,” Kazuha replies, sitting up with her phone facing flat across her thigh, “The chance hasn’t really come my way yet.” 

“I’m sure it’ll come.” you tell her, downing another swig of the drink. 

“You think I’ve got a screw loose with how I act?” 

“Are you kidding me? Show me how many booty calls you’ve got on your phone since Sakura hooked you up.” 

Kazuha sticks her tongue at you, pulling herself away from your reaching hand, laughing while she’s practically got her feet up with the cushions now. A lean over more, and she’s curling herself up into a ball while you’re looking around to see if anyone’s paying attention. 

“We could get kicked out of here.” Kazuha says, properly sitting up while you’re hunching over to slip on the lent pair of bowling shoes, undoing the set knots and opening up the tongue of the shoe while the sounds of knocked pins echo underneath the blasting bass coming from the speakers. 

“Get kicked out before we even get started?” 

“You’re the one who’s trying to grab my phone!” 

“I asked nicely.” 

“Didn’t hear a ‘please’ from you.” 

You roll your eyes, stamping a foot down lightly to ensure that the shoe fits perfectly as intended. Might be a bit tight on the back of the heel, but it’ll do. Besides, this Wednesday-night planned hangout at the bowling lanes was on the agenda for quite some time, only put off because certain people have been busy with a few assignments from classes, which you can’t blame them since the semester has been a bit stagnant midway through. 

A look at the watch, and the time was a bit delayed than the intended arrangement. “Where’s Chaewon and Sakura?” 

Kazuha checks her phone for any updates via notifications, “Sakura’s running late. Chaewon and her boyfriend just picked up Yunjin ten minutes ago. They should be here any minute now.” 

With that taken into account, you take small steps to the little control panel, looking up to the tv to put in the proper abbreviated nicknames for the competitors who have yet to arrive at the lanes. There’s a small sense of creativity amongst the five or six competitors: Kkura, Chae, Zuha, Jen Jen, yours (which is pretty bland for your taste, but Yunjin likes it), and whoever Sakura invited along with her if she brought them. “Didn’t buy three to five games for nothing.” 

“You’re literally the only one here that likes to bowl in their free time.” Kazuha deadpans. 

“Tell that to Chaewon and Sakura who competed in ping pong the last time.” you tell her, pressing some of the unresponsive keys that forces a typo on Sakura’s, but you don’t bother changing it back. “Those two will take up the last two games for sure. Put my money on it.” 

“Not even worth losing ten bucks for that.” Kazuha scooches over to the end of the seat, french fry hanging off her mouth, texting whoever it may be whether it’s one of her classmates or one of Sakura’s flings being thrown down her pipeline. To be fair, it’s been about two weeks since she brought someone into the apartment, and she’s quite overdue for a good dick appointment. 

Whatever that may be, you’ll pay no attention to that. 

“Speaking of which,” she continued, with a bowling ball in her arms, polishing it with the sleeve of her puffer jacket, “Where is Yunjin? And why wasn’t she with you in the first place when we left the apartment?” 

“It’s because she insisted on turning in our flash drive for the project we worked together on for one of our classes,” you answer, pressing a thumb down on the panel to finalize the names for the game’s competitors, watching off in the distance as the machine barrier lifts up opening the ten bowling pins to the line. “I offered to go with her so that it shows the professor that we actually did a collaborative effort, but then you called me.” 

“Ouch, sorry.” Kazuha winces, you wave her off with a shake of the head while she puts her preferred ball on the rails of the return system next to yours. A size seven ball with medium finger placements in comparison to your size ten with the large specified holes. You argued that weight was better than speed, and Kazuha was willing to bet who scores the highest with their preferred bowling ball pays the other person’s meal at the next outing. “If you’d told me that before I bolted to my morning class, I wouldn’t have called you.” 

“Wasn’t my fault you overslept your alarm three times,” you agree, chuckling. “To be fair, I hate the alarm sound for your phone anyway.” 

“Not changing it anytime soon,” Kazuha says proudly, hands firmly in the pockets of her jacket, “Looks like you’re gonna have to deal with it.” 

“And I’ll cockblock your next dick appointment personally, just out of spite.” you say, and Kazuha frowns with a pout instantaneously. 

Amidst the slow riff of the electric guitar lightly reverberates along the subwoofers hanging above the lanes. There’s a sudden surge of newcomers looking to simply let loose and have a good time. It’s a Friday, middle of the semester, one of those weekends where you’re just mentally checked out from all the buzz between school and the extracurriculars and stress for the coming midterms. That’s how it is in this kind of environment: work hard, play harder. 

While some are here to just take space in the pool tables, others are in the arcade to break the ice in the lines of a first date. Few people here are actually closet bowlers with a different avenue of profession holding them back from wasting their time rolling their life or something of that substance. You’re tired with school, but it won’t be long until you’re walking in about a year or less, nothing wrong with having nights like these. 

Your ears pick up on a familiar honey saccharine laugh, along with a string of bickers from a voice constantly sounding angry. A look slightly up to the walkways, and there’s a quartet approaching your spot before the lanes. One of them in a vortex of blonde hair, hands gesturing behind someone else in front of her before slapping their back lightly. The girl in front with the same hair color has her brows furrowed, scrunching at the slight pain from their back, but also letting out signs of fun with good intent. Then there’s the two individuals in tow behind the first duo; a girl with hair colored a mix of sunset orange and a dash of red along with a single guy who’s slightly taller compared to the trio. You automatically connect the dots in your head to deduce that to be Chaewon’s boyfriend, and the other head towards you and Kazuha. It’s an impending headache of bullshit heading your way, but you’ve put up with it for so long and it’ll happen again. 

“You’re late,” you announce, finger to the top of your wrist. “Zuha and I have been here for the past twenty minutes.”

“Fuck off,” Sakura sneers, shucking off her handbag to the seat while letting her lent pair of bowling shoes hit the hardwood. Her tone comes off as harsh - might be mistaken as someone to be antagonistic. To be fair, her and Chaewon have grown up together since they were little, wouldn’t be normal if one didn’t annoy the other to the point where both of them would have to draw knives. But you’ll keep the popcorn behind your back until that moment comes, “Tell that to Chaewon who almost ran my ass over in the parking lot.” 

“Did not!” Chaewon exclaims, already on the seat and untying her shoes while her boyfriend does the same, “It’s not my fault that you didn’t look both ways before crossing!” 

“Both of you guys need to chill,” Chaewon’s boyfriend chimes in, hoping to defuse the situation before it even gets worse, not paying any ounce of attention while slipping on to his pair of bowling shoes. “I thought we all came here to have some fun, did we not?” 

“We did,” you sigh, gliding on over with a cup half full of the beer that you ordered for the group. Chaewon’s boyfriend looks up, slightly hesitant in taking the offer - knowing that if everyone in the group drank tonight, no one was assigned to be designated driver. So, he takes the cup, raises it to you in acceptance, and takes a quick sip. “It’s still on the table if the two most competitive people I’ve ever met can actually make up before going crazy with the game.” 

Chaewon and Sakura both look at you in disgust, simultaneously giving you the middle finger while you shrug, swiveling your head to the opposite direction to finally see the third girl that was with the group - the only person you were technically waiting for since arriving here, and she doesn’t really need an introduction. 

A walk up to her on the opposite bench that wasn’t occupied by four people, and Yunjin matches your demeanor. 

It’s the most innocent look you could give her: a sheepish smile. She looks at you while you’re noticing a small speck of dust at the edge of her jacket before tending to her stray wisps of hair. The way she bats her eyelashes through those rimless pairs of glasses, it’s impossible to not notice the wideness her eyes zeroing in on you while playing the worrying boyfriend you are. Consider it to be a protocol - the smug smile across your face, and you haven’t said anything to her in the opening five seconds of seeing her. 

“Missed me that much?” Yunjin asks, slipping out of the lent leather jacket she swiped from your closet. “You could’ve gone with me to turn in our assignment together.” 

“You see, about that.” You got a hand on the jacket, tossing it over to the seat. “I would have, if Kazuha didn’t egg me ten minutes before we left the house.” 

It’s been merely more than five seconds, and the pleasantries are already skipped over; though there’s a small exchange of smiles and ghosting hands - not wanting to taint the perfect appearance that Yunjin has, wandering eyes all over her like an art piece. She’s stolen your jacket, the shirt underneath was also one of yours from the closet; within all the lines of casual, she owns the category second to none. 

You’re rambling about how much of a pain it was bringing Kazuha, even though she wasn’t even the sole person who planned this hangout in the first place. A second look at the shirt that Yunjin’s wearing and you point it out while dumping the exposition. She runs a hand through her hair, coming it downwards with her fingers while paying half attention to the words spilling out of your mouth. “Did I also mention that you’re wearing one of my favorite shirts again?” 

She just laughs, takes a few steps forward, gives you a quick kiss right then and there. 

She also loves how that simple action shuts you up. 

“You’re missing something,” she tells you, fixing a few places of your hair while you’re standing there completely frozen. 

Acknowledging with a nod, “Yes, I did miss you that much.” Giving her a few light head pats while her eyes smile with content. “Thank you for turning in our project for us. I’ll owe you my life.” 

“You will,” she says, sitting down and untying her sneakers, “Still should’ve gone with me though.” 

“I know.” 

“Are we gonna get this game started?” Sakura asks across the table, holding up a bowling ball that is clearly Kazuha’s, but she doesn’t care. “I just bet that if I beat Chaewon, she’s buying all of us dinner when we’re done here!” 

“You’re shit at ping pong, and I’ll kick your ass at bowling too.” Chaewon rebukes, clearly motivated now to not let that happen on her watch. “Unless pretty boy over there and his girlfriend want to join in the competition to make things more interesting.” 

“A double team against you two?” Yunjin inquires, finishing up the last lace on her shoe before standing up, walking over to the return system to see which ball to pick, “How ‘bout whoever scores the lowest gets to pay for the meal. Deal?” 

“You’re on,” you say, “But Yunjin’s winning in a landslide over the three of us.” 

Sakura presses a few buttons on the touchpad, finally getting the long-awaited bowling game started. 

(Yunjin wins by no surprise, Sakura nearly edges you out by single digits, and Chaewon came dead last which means: the meal was on her after the games.)

–

Each new week into the semester brings a new tale of challenges, assignments, and fun plans with peers in and out of the campus - except this time; however, because you fucked up. 

The swing of the door into your apartment should already spell some sort of bad omen with the way that you’re frantically pacing into the kitchen, overlooking into the small opening to the living room, seeing Yunjin wrapping up her fifteen minute ab workout video, not paying any mind to while finishing the last few reps. 

“Babe?” you call out while putting a thermos onto the countertop, one sweep over with a poking head to see her laying on the mat. “Ah, right. Your workout.” 

Her brow furrows while trying to concentrate in holding the planking position, holding herself in place for another five seconds or so, finally falling flat when the timer goes, softly panting before sitting up and facing you. She’s in a sports bra and one of your sweatpants that pool at her feet - though the robbery complaint will get ignored. 

There’s something about her being astonishingly pretty in homebody clothes. Hair in a low ponytail, lip lightly touched, there’s a thin layer of sweat covering her upper body. Normally, you’d tell her to go take a shower right away. You’re committing perjury for not telling her in the first place. 

“You took longer than expected,” she says, looking up to accept the greeting kiss while you’re towering over her. “Where were you?” 

“Had to take care of some stuff outside class. And then I had to take care of something else,” you answer, backpack to the couch. “Which leads me to my next thing that I have- no, need to tell you.” 

“Have you done something wrong?” Yunjin asks, standing up, eyes narrowed when she notices your worrying expression. Her hand dances along the hem of her sports bra when you help her up, while you tend to her messy hair as she tries to read into your body language. 

“No?” you tell her, hoping that answer would suffice for the time being.

It doesn’t. 

“What did you do now?” She frowns, eyes squinting closely together - pushing further into admitting what was going on. That was already strike one, and getting two more was never an option. “As long as you tell me, I deserve to know at least.” 

“Promise you won’t be mad?” 

“Can’t promise you that.” 

Taking a deep breath, you place both of your hands on her shoulders, guiding her down to sit with you on the couch while you take another momentary silence to gather your thoughts and words, hoping to bring the news up in the most sincere and serious way as you could. 

“Well?” Yunjin asks again, prompting you to get on with it and drop the stalling. 

“Alright,” you start, “Do you remember that uh- sex tape we made together last week?” Might be a dumb question, but how could either one of you forget? The look on Yunjin’s face says a whole lot more than what her answer might be, and she’s grinning just thinking about it. “I thought you were serious about–” 

“I am!” she exclaims, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks and the grip on your hands grow tighter, “But what does that have to do with your-” 

“I know, I know. Stay with me here.” you assure before delivering the final blow. 

You can’t help but laugh while your finger presses softly to her lips. The memory itself is also flashing through your mind, how your hands grip around her ass with her back arched up, the way she’s splayed on her back, filling her pussy up with your cock working its way down to her stomach. Bending her in half while her lovely heat clenches around you to the point where she’s screaming. The assessment running behind Yunjin’s eyes and the glossiness tells you everything that there is to know about it. Her brows furrow again with an inward lip, thinking about the way she marks you up with scratches across your forearms and back, groaning into her ear while you’re shattering her into the mattress. 

(Can’t forget about the face she has while you’re fucking her rough - a string of pants and whines that go up in two ascending octaves, then diminishes to almost nothing, unraveling herself all over your dick when she locks you down with her ankles to the small of your back. She’s so helpless, especially when-

“Fuck, yes baby, right there-”

More on that, eventually.) 

“So you might’ve turned that flash drive in to our professor.” you tell her, squeezing your eyes shut, bracing for a hit from Yunjin. “Not your fault though, this was all my doing.” 

“Okay,” she laughs in disbelief while doing this form of jazz-hands, “First of all, we can just ask to exchange it. Second of all, who the hell saves a sex tape on a flash drive? I mean, what the fuck were you thinking while setting up our final submission?” 

“I was looking at it while editing our project and I just got so caught up with the way your soft moans got to me in the recording and how your tits were just–” you remark, quivering with a grin while Yunjin scrunches her face at you. 

“And what are we waiting for?” she asks, wrinkling her nose while laughing out loud. “Either we act now or get both of our asses expelled before we even get to graduate?” 

“If all goes well, we should honestly be fine.” you tell her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, hand quick behind your back to give her a face towel. “If it doesn’t, at least we can say that we tried to prevent this from happening.” 

“This is your fault, by the way.” Yunjin says while taking your hand up and on the way out the door. “I was the one who turned our sex tape in supposedly, and I’m gonna be the one to get it back.” 

The way that you don’t even put up a refute to her, the way your feet carry themselves behind her, the loud ‘thum’ of the deadbolt outside the apartment should already be a sign of what’s to come. 

–

You’d be amazed at how well you’ve held your patience while Yunjin was doing all of the talking with the professor, trying to reason out as much as she could for just a simple exchange. For some reason, the man wouldn’t even budge without the speculation of nothing being in the contents of the flash drive and considering the fact that it was the deadline. 

“Sir, if you could please just-” 

“Save it,” he says, pressing the bridge of his glasses up towards his face, “Look, I know that you two are of my brightest students in the class, but it’s just oddly suspicious that you’re asking me to swap out the turned in flash drive for another all because of some mix up?” 

“Can’t you just not do that instead?” you ask, offering the proper flash drive to the professor. “Yunjin and I have already proven to be your most esteemed students this semester, this small mixup just shows that there’s that built trust from over the past–” 

“I understand that, but I just can’t fathom that you two are pulling this over me at the very last minute right before I go over them,” the professor declares, “It’s too suspicious as it is and if worse comes to worse, I’ll have to report both of you to the dean’s office if we can’t come up with a compromise here.” 

“But sir–” Yunjin tries to butt in, hoping to reiterate the case.

“I expected more from you, Yunjin.” He says, leaning back on his chair, “I’m very disappointed in the way you are acting just now. This isn’t like you, and I expected better.”

“Blame me instead of her.” you plead, standing in front to neutralize the hostility. “She was turning it in for us in the first place.” The professor just scoffs mockingly, sputtering different kinds of insults that would be enough evidence for him to get fired, and that’s where you reach the boiling point first. 

“Enough of this nonsense,” the professor scowls while tossing the very flash drive Yunjin gave into the basket filled with the others. “You’ll get it back when I’m done grading these come Monday. Now please, get out of my office before we really start to have an issue.” 

Before Yunjin opens her mouth to protest, you toss the correct flash drive into the professor’s chest, fishing into the basket to grab the other one resting atop of the pile. She picks up quickly to what you were doing, tossing a jar filled with pencils off the desk that leaves him in visible confusion, pulling her by the wrist and out the door where you and her make a break for it out in the hallway. Once rounding the corner, she starts giggling out of nowhere while you’re looking over your shoulder to see the small figure at the end of the corridor. Things take a turn for the worse when the sound of radio chatter could be heard coming up the stairs off your right, and on the opposite end was the janitor's closet. Any delay by more than two seconds would only spell disaster if you didn’t yank her inside right away. 

“Fucking security,” you mutter, following the slam of the door and a press of the ear against the wood to get a better chance of hearing what was being said. Yunjin’s pressed close to you, meeting your gaze once the conversations faded out into the hallway. A sigh of relief leaves your lips while Yunjin again is trying not to laugh at what you two did. “Okay, I think they’re gone, but we can’t leave now. There’s too much commotion down near the office, so we gotta wait.” 

“I can’t believe we just did that.” Yunjin breathes, hand to her chest to calm down her heart rate, still trying to come to grips with what just happened in the span of three minutes. “Even crazier that you managed to get the right flash drive.” 

“Well shit,” you tell her, hand out to see that the outer case of the flash drive had been damaged, much to your responsibility since you stepped on it by accident while stumbling over in the hallway. “Expulsion is out of the equation, but man,” you say, putting the damage back into your pocket, “This sucks. I was hoping to save the contents in that drive.” 

“This might be a good thing.” Yunjin tells you, reassuring. 

“What makes you say that?” The sigh leaving your lips is laced with frustration, “I don’t think- ugh, that was some of the best sex we had. Yunjin, I- you don’t realize how hot that video was when I was looking at it and now? It’s gone.” She looks at you in sympathy, pulling her lip inward while trying to calm down your clenched fists, trying to not let her thoughts get the better of her with the way your hands could grip her hair. 

“Since we’ll be here for quite a bit, why don’t we get to work making a new one?” She asks with a chin tilt up, pressing your back against the door when her lips meet yours, taking you completely off guard by the contact. 

It’s a full on advantage for Yunjin in this case, swirling her tongue against yours, not willing to bear in mind when the feedback of a radio approaches near the door. Getting caught is one thing - but there’s worse ways to go. You pull back from the lack of oxygen, a swipe of her upper lip to yours, warm breath hanging in the open space while you collect your thoughts. “Y-You’re gonna have to give me a minute here.”

“What for?” 

“I’m not complaining at all, but uh, what’s with,” a giggle leaves your mouth, “the affection, all of a sudden?” 

“Nothing,” she replies, “It was just hot- really hot. I just think you giving your piece of mind to him for me was probably the best highlight of our whole semester so far…” Her voice trails off while her hand slithers down to your waking cock through your pants to cement down her thoughts. A hand pulls you by the nape of your neck to meet her lips again, moving sensually in the closed space, her mouth leaving these teasingly touches while she’s assessing your length in languid pumps. 

From the dazed expression in your eyes and swollen lips, you’re already entranced at the way she’s sinking to her knees in front of you, the hitched breaths and slow shuffle at the pull of your sweats and boxers to the ankles. Yunjin softly gasps, a thrill that never gets old when she uncovers the length from it’s clothed chamber, licking her lip while all of her attention focuses in on your cock hanging proud between your thighs; the many things she’s currently thinking about -  and you’re not far off the thread of thinking too. 

You’re already imagining the velvety heat of her mouth while she’s preparing for that familiar ache of taking you down her throat. Before she could have fun for herself, she pulls the zipper of her track jacket, revealing the same sports bra from earlier, pulling the tight piece up and over to reveal her tits, noticing the small twitch when she finally runs her fingers along the veins of your shaft, wrapping slowly while the jerk in your knees ends with a mouth curl from her. 

“The video would be really nice right now, wouldn’t it?” she breathes, thumb grazing the slit of your tip that’s soaked with a small hint of precum leaking, assessing the conditions with clinical precision every pump. Her eyes meet yours, already wild with imagination as she continues to stroke you softly. “Babe?” 

“No- no phone.” 

“I brought mine with me, stupid.” Yunjin tells you, dropping the excitement from her face. 

She laughs when you’re murmuring out these complaints, only for that to be ignored when she’s quick to hand her phone to you. “You were in a rush,” you reason, “Didn’t have time to grab mine sitting on the kitchen countertop.” 

“What would you do without me?” 

“I have my right hand to do the job.” 

“Angle it properly,” Yunjin instructs, smirking at the gasp while she cradles your balls. “Is it in the right position?” Your hands steady over her head, pointing the camera while her gaze transforms into something more needy, someone who’s desperately hungry to get herself satisfied. It’s unbearably pretty the way she gets like this for you, pulling her lips inward to get them wet while your eyes are fixated through the phone screen, flexing your waist a bit in anticipation while her tongue licks up your cockhead - an appetizer of sorts, before finally taking you in. 

Everything rushes and slows down the way her lips close around the third of your shaft. Not wanting to focus on what’s happening below, you look up with eyelids fluttering shut at the way her mouth and tongue continue to lap up the length, eventually sliding down, easing more and more of you down her throat, coating your cock with her mouth the more she sinks. She knows all of the inner workings of what you love in blowing you. 

“Yunjin, fuck. Baby,” She intends to break you apart with her mouth, once she reaches down the base, holding you there while some of her saliva leaks out in repeating gags, hips twitching at the clench while her tongue sweeps underneath in a slow, consistent rhythm. 

The vibrating hum she rumbles along the line of your cock, she steadily keeps up her pace while her ears pick up on the shallow breaths coming out of you. Forget about the video, or the noises that pick up in decibels - in addition to the back of your head hitting the door. It’s always addictive the way her mouth sheathes your length, having no gag reflex was something amazing for Yunjin to have, repeatedly pulling her head back up and dipping back in to take you deep. 

She grazes her teeth to a smile while your fingers thread through her hair, internalizing the pulse, that sweet heat of her mouth and how wet it is; the fucking suction, goddamnit. Her suction was way to fucking good for you to pay attention to. “There. Y-you’re so good- great at- fuck-” 

Yunjin just hums to accept the compliment, pulling away to angle your cock upwards to put one of your balls in her mouth, lathering it in her spit. “Camera, tilting.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” you say, lazily. A small fix of the phone in your hand finds her face right in frame, as she resumes her oral assault on your cock. The volume of moans increases slightly from her and you, highlighting how much you’re enjoying this while she hollows her cheeks halfway, taking you all the way down tight. Tighter. The sound of her throat clicking when your cockhead rests at the opening in her mouth, you’re furrowing your brows together while trying to keep it together as much as you could. 

Pulling back slightly, tongue licking across the swollen head, she winks at you while you’re biting your lip so hard to the point that you’ll probably draw blood from it the next second. It’s not helping your situation - she’s giving these subtle ‘mhms’ when she slides you back into her mouth, eyes closing in bliss, upping the pace while you’re nestling a hand to the back of her head, dragging your cock along the top part of her mouth, forehead wrinkling in approval to let you know that she likes it. 

Sliding you out for a second, “Put your shirt in your mouth.” She tells you, placing a precise kiss at the base while you’re staring at the screen. “You listening?”

You just groan. 

Her hand is quick to hike up the bottom hem of your shirt, rolling it up to put a clump of the cloth between your teeth, and she just laughs before inhaling your length again.  

You’re also trying to keep it together over the fact how much of a slut Yunjin gets for you, hoping that all of the button pushing will leave you into fucking her just exactly how she wants - you’ll just stand there like a good boy she'll ask, using that pretty mouth over your cock for what feels like an entering until you bust inside that lovely hole just to fill the other one later. 

The pop she does off of your cock is obscene, jerking your shaft while she’s staring up, and the image on the screen is already something to capture for later. 

“Are you liking this so far?” Yunjin asks, doe eyes doing very little for the heinous act she’s committing, giving your underside scattered pecks mixed with slurps over your drool covered cock. “I can tell from your writhing face that you are.” 

“Bitch.” you spit, a futile effort at best.

“Fuck my mouth.” She orders, inhaling your cock down - all the way, clasping her lips to the base. You clench your teeth together, get your hand to her head again. Her eyes go wide in content while you slowly thrust up with her against your hips still, slacking her jaw to let you build up some speed to bury your dick in her throat. 

Doesn’t take much long, mouth hanging in awe by the way she’s pulling up and out and going back in. A few good thrusts is all it takes to get the perfect pressure and suction around your cock, spit leaking out of her mouth while you’re finally getting your work cut out the more she gags around you. That fucking tongue is your worst enemy - the way that it’s licking up underneath a few times, one of the key ways to get you to finally open up that eventual bursting drain from within. 

“Jen,” you hiss while fighting the urge to bust at the nickname alone, pushing her down while the moan she elicits over your dick throbs in her mouth, nearly breaking, “Gonna just, fuck, ‘m so close-” 

“Mhm.” 

The spit remains where its at while pleasure surges through your body, grinding your teeth to mask the heated groan while you cum down her throat, spilling copious amounts of your release into the hollow of her throat, feeling the languid clench past the opening while she’s swallowing it all. Her eyes go wide for a second at the load, closing them soon after as you manage to keep it together from your high, coming down when she slides herself off of you, coughing a bit while your knees jerk together in a millisecond of shock. Some of your cum spills out of her mouth and dribbles down between her tits, keeping the camera angle on her surprisingly while your cock floats right in front of her face. Yunjin leans forward to give a peppered kiss to the tip, collecting some of the remnants that rest at the slit before retreating, fingers treating the damage of her soaked and swollen lips. 

“Thanks for that.” she says, chuckling, wiping off some of the evidence with her knuckles while blinking in quick succession, looking up at you fondly with those enormous bark eyes of hers while you stop the recording to hand her a piece from the brown paper towel roll sitting on the shelf, helping her up soon after while you’re fixing your clothes. “Told you that it was worth killing time for.” 

“Looks like I owe you again for this,” you tell her, treating the drawstring of your sweats to a knot. “I’ll peek out to see if we’re in the clear.” Soon after you said that, you lean your head out the small opening of the door, realizing that there wasn’t anyone within a close distance in the hallway, stepping out and helping Yunjin out the closet, feeling out her jaw with her knuckles, trying to memorize the ache of her mouth you just gave her. 

“We should get going, no?” She asks, hand to your shoulder while you’re about to enter the stairway. “And I’m holding you to that returned favor, since you’re gonna fuck me till I need to be in a wheelchair.” 

“Isn’t that part of the fun we’re doing already?” you rebut, grabbing her hand, “The sooner we get back home, the faster I’ll make you cum, deal?” 

You’re a silly idiot the way you’re pulling Yunjin by the wrist, picking up the pace while her smile was impossible to take off. She’s laughing again at the proposal, but also very looking forward to it. 

–

The thing about Yunjin, you learn, for the most part, is how she’s painted to be this great girl that is only primed for success - and nothing less. 

What others don’t realize, is the conventional pains and struggles she poses towards you -  to the point where that agonizing migraine in your head just keeps on ringing. And sure, she’s the top student and role model amongst peers for a reason, showing up where it matters; but when it comes to the actual long hours of grinding schoolwork and building up her own life bit by bit, it’s within the walls of your apartment where the real stuff takes place. 

A clean room at the beginning of the week, only for it to be completely ran through like a tornado and all over the place come Sunday. 

In terms of assignments? She’s clean, all across the board - with the rare occasion of one class slipping out of her mind if you’re not there to remind her or bail her out since some subjects in her schedule are not her forte, but you’ll help out where you can. 

The standard that she’s always trying to raise, for the most part, is the sex. Always the sex was the emphasis. She tries and you try, getting one over another or deal with whoever is going through it the most, especially if Yunjin’s the one who’s got a higher sex-drive than you, not that you’re putting it up for an argument, but willing to compete when present. Whether she’s looking for it or you are, she’ll find a way to push that idea into reality no matter if you’re with her or not. 

“This better be important,” a familiar line you’ve been saying for quite a bit as of recently. “Couldn’t let me go for a few hours to have some fun with the rest of the guys?” 

“When are you gonna be back?” She asks, and the tone in her voice comes as peculiar the way she sounds out of it. “I’ve been reading this stupid book before Kazuha and the others came back with some snacks.” There’s some laughter in the background, probably someone bickering over some gossip that happened earlier in the week that was sufficient enough to report. “Bless Kazuha, for getting me out of the room at least to socialize.”

“I thought that would kill more time for you while I’m gone.” 

“It has, but everyone’s gone now. And Kazuha’s in her room asleep already.” 

“And you?” 

“In bed, trying to watch this series, but I miss you.” 

“Aren’t you cute.” You muse. 

There isn’t anything to be considered unusual with conversations like these over the phone or text. In all fairness, you did kind of feel bad for leaving her alone for a few hours since there were already plans made as it is, but Yunjin’s pouty face did everything it could to stop you until you left. 

“I miss you. Can I not admit that?” She sighs. And you’re probably painting the picture of her being in one of your shirts, laid back on the bed or sat criss-cross - doing literally anything to keep herself moving as you two prolong the conversation. 

One of the guys bumps you on the shoulder, hinting that they’re walking on ahead from the bar. You nod and start walking with them, clearing your throat before answering, “What if I told you I feel the exact same way? You can add on from that, I’m pretty sure.” 

“God, the slight change in your voice when you’re trying to make me work,” she says, grinning while you continue to keep the steady walking pace. “Maybe if you can excuse yourself before the new hour, I’ll let you tie me up to the bed.” 

“Yunjin. Christ-” 

“I’ll let you know right now that I have nothing underneath your shirt at the moment. Just for good leverage.” 

Oh, it’s another challenge alright. Two can play at this.

“Which shirt?” You ask, gauging the image forming in your head. “I forgot to give you thanks for doing the laundry earlier after, y’know.” 

“This old shirt from that thrifting run we did. And you can thank me in other ways.” Yunjin says, humming as you can tell exactly what she’s doing. “I’m already imagining it, what you’ll do to me if you get home fast enough.” 

“Like what,” you breathe, the huff going into the microphone that has her mixing her giggle with a half-moan in between. “I’m a visual learner, but I need details to set the picture right.” 

There’s a quiet whine heard when you stop at the intersection, turning yourself away so that no one else in the group can pick up your current phone call, or at least have the frame of mind to ask you who’s on the other end. The stiff breaths on Yunjin’s side pick up in a loose rhythm. It’s no surprise; she’s slowly touching herself, and you can picture it. Forming the image of her hand between her thighs, letting her long figures slide in and out with a bit of a twist, increasing the sound of slick. 

“I’m picturing your hand, thumb on my clit, getting me dizzy.”

“And?” 

“How you’ll stretch my tiny pussy out, pressing my back down while I’m screaming into the mattress.” 

“I will. What else?” 

“Your cock-” she says, “Your lovely cock, how your hands roam across my body. Marking my skin up with your mouth and teeth in all the ways that I like it,” Yunjin inhales deeply, and you can visualize the arch in her back when she bottoms herself out, “-no idea, how good you’d look inside of me, right now. Bending me over the bed, riding you out, until you fuck me deep, using me just to get yourself off. The way you, fuck- get so addicted to me.” 

“I know.” You tell her, looking both ways while crossing, “How many fingers did I get inside of you? Remind me again, three?” As you’re asking, one of the guys looks back in shock at what was said out loud, winking at them while nodding in approval. They know, besides, it’s the unspoken bro code. 

“Three,” she whines, letting you know she’s limit testing herself with three of her fingers inside her pussy. “Your fingers are better, and maybe we can try four. The offer is still on the table.” 

This fucking girl. “What’s my time limit here?” 

Yunjin sounds unorganized, humming and breaking a whine. “Come back any later than eleven, and you don’t get to cum inside of me. I’m gonna get so close till you get here, and I’ll let you finish in my mouth as mercy.” 

You click your tongue, convinced of the fact that you’re cornered for now, but it won’t matter if the end of the deal is held; with gritting teeth, Yunjin giggles at the assertion that you’ll fuck her senseless if that’s she wants. There’s nothing wrong with that declaration, since she’s the one who started all of this anyway. 

“Alright, pretty boy. Thirty minutes.” Is all she says, and then hangs up. A second later she sends a picture of her reflection in the mirror, legs raised and spread apart like a normal split, a string of slick to be clearly seen. 

A look at your watch. The dinner you attended with the guys was at seven. It’s thirty minutes until eleven. You’re not far from the apartment from where you’re at, and as luck would have it, one of the guys was looking to call his night early. Even better when he’s living in the same apartment complex as you; all you need to figure out is how to convince him to rush back home. 

While breaking away from the group, the bro code comes into play again, and apparently his girlfriend sent him nudes while eating earlier. Not exactly sure why he would show you a picture of his naked girl in the first place but hey, great minds think alike. 

–

You kinda blame Kazuha for making Yunjin like this at times. 

Not your fault however, since the pair of them conveniently share a brain cell together whenever Yunjin stops by your shared apartment with Kazuha to stay over and chill. From what you can recall, these two have been best friends up until middle school; Kazuha went overseas to pursue her passion for ballet while Yunjin was focusing on the performing arts - and in a way, they were still tethered together despite being miles and miles apart across the globe. 

(Call it a fine pairing of toothbrush and toothpaste, but the connection you saw what these two had was something to admire.) 

“You sure you don’t want a bite?” Kazuha asks, opening up the styrofoam box to reveal a set of six takoyaki pieces. Yunjin sits next to her on her phone, switching between apps in record time from the socials to her emails, a mean look to her face when she looks at the grade from her art project, a perfect score to the narrowing eyes as if she herself couldn’t believe her own work. 

“Save one for me,” you answer, getting up from the lounge seat to migrate towards the kitchen, hoping to satisfy your food cravings with a light snack to slowly administer the growing appetite. “Yunjin’s the one who suggested getting takeout in the first place so I think you two should at least have most of it for yourselves.” 

“I told you ordering eight was better than having six,” Yunjin scoffs, scraping Kazuha’s shoulder while lowering the plastic bag to pull the other foods that they ordered from their go-to place that was on the outside of campus. “Now, are we gonna eat this together or are you gonna give me another play-by-play with your sex shenanigans for the tenth time.” 

You roll your eyes while ripping the wrap of the instant ramen, “Zuha, who was it this time?” 

“Uh, none of your business?” 

“It should most definitely be my business if I can’t find the fucking cable to my keyboard,” you retort, frowning while Kazuha flips you off with the middle finger. “I already had to scold Yunjin for stealing my pants, bleaching them by accident, and then giving it to Sakura for her fashion project.” Cocking your head over, you see Yunjin set up her phone for the mukbang they’re about to do, the tripod already centered between the two of them on the table and the pair already fixing up their hair a bit to make it presentable. “Please don’t tell me you got that on camera.” 

“Bloopers.” Kazuha adds, “I’ll let Sakura know to return your pair of pants later with this clip.” 

“Enough talk,” Yunjin says, pulling a takoyaki out and hovering it over her other hand. “Think we can eat this in one bite?” 

“Ready to do this?” Kazuha asks.

“Let’s go.” Yunjin answers. 

You’re muttering to yourself behind the counter: “The food is still hot, you idiots.” 

“I think we’ll be okay,” Kazuha replies, leaning closer to the camera with her piece of takoyaki, “Might be a little dangerous, but we’re gonna do it anyway.” You’re trying to fight the snort in your throat while you’re looking over to see both of them eat it, getting two solid bites into the delicious snack while you’re still watching them. 

Kazuha leans back, covering her mouth while Yunjin hollows her cheeks, lips slightly open, breathing out hot air. Both of them move in opposite directions, but Kazuha follows Yunjin’s movement, keeling over to the right side. While that was happening, the table shifted from underneath, moving the camera and causing it to tip over to their right side as well. Soon after, Yunjin’s quick to sit back up and fix the phone to make it stand upright, laughing while Kazuha’s face literally goes beet red from the hot food. 

Rolling your eyes, you continue to make your own, paying no attention to the girls in the living room. You hear them arguing over how the takoyaki was still hot when Kazuha claimed that it wasn’t, “I thought you checked that these were already cooled down.” 

“And I told myself that it wasn’t going to be that hot still, but it’s that hot!” Yunjin says, mouth full while Kazuha is trying to fan her face. 

You’re leaning over again with the steam from the pot rising to your face, “I’ll have that one extra piece for me,” telling Yunjin with a cracked grin, “Thank you very much.” 

–

(Kazuha claimed a while back one night, whilst you’re trying to conjure up a preliminary profile with the new phone number sitting in your phone, that there is someone who is equally bad as her. In terms of bad, you’re assuming that in all the ways Kazuha falls under. The appearance only shows half the tale when it comes to Yunjin; until your first date with her at the end of the week, of course. 

You’re also making the counterargument that Kazuha didn’t even tell you that she and Yunjin were close friends in the first place, accusing her that the piece of information was ‘need to know’ leading up to the interaction later on with Yunjin in class that day. 

“I’m telling you this now,” she says, stealing your onion ring from your fingers before you could even get a bite to it, “She’s a freak just waiting to be let out.” 

“You’re serious?” you say at the time, keeping eyes locked with Kazuha with a nursing cup of milk as your nightly beverage. The soft slurp is just audible enough to hear through your ears, “She’s a lot like you in the way that she acts.” 

Kazuha bobs her head in agreement, “Trust me. Her and I did a lot of experimenting and research, even though we were like- in our teenage years, but you get the point.” 

Then you run a hand to your face, recalling every single characteristic with your fingers while Kazuha grabs another onion ring from the bowl. “Okay, so it’s like this: she’s sweet, has this sort of attitude if she doesn’t get what she wants, needy, doesn’t clean up after themselves especially when it comes to their laundry, and self-absorbed with the help of their friends.”  

“Ouch. Who the hell hurt you?” Kazuha tuts, flipping you off with a stray onion ring thrown at you. You’re laughing, but it’s all good vibes and jokes with your roommate. 

“You’re right,” she says soon after, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”)

–

All credit to Kazuha, for slightly playing the role of matchmaker. Though, it’s already a difficult task to do in dealing with her around the house - now imagine with two Kazuha’s, figuratively speaking. The only contrast is, Yunjin’s outlook may be similar to Kazuha’s, but she’s entirely different that's way more appealing to you. 

She breaks the pattern in your life in a lot of ways you don’t expect.

–

Unhinged. 

That could be- 

“Let me hear you moan, baby. I need to know how much you like this.” 

-one sure way to describe it. 

Yunjin’s voice rasps against your ear, while the only thing that’s pooling through your eyes is the carmine shade of hair, while her back is pressed against the door of the stall in the gentlemen’s room. It’s some mixer that Sakura and Kazuha insisted that you two come along for fun; some alcohol is in the system, maybe it’s the heat from the amount of bodies on the dance floor, you don’t really remember how you got to this position - not that it really mattered. 

She’s got one of her long legs wrapped around you, a hand firmly grasped to the back of your neck while your is well worked past the elastic of her panties, curling a finger inside her that makes her sing these wondrous hums and whimpers, watching has her half-lidded eyes glisten in the low light hanging above; and those thickly rimmed specs of hers, the glance alone makes you want more of her. It’s incredibly ethereal how she looks when her lids flutter shut, swollen lips half open when you’re edging her out even harder, cheeks flushed while she’s doing this plié motion on her single foot, hoping to fuck herself more with your fingers - sliding in and out in a steady motion for as long as she could hold it. 

“Fingers babe,” she breathes, nose wrinkling while you’re massaging her clit with your thumb, sinking all over her weight onto your hand. Her glasses slide off the bridge of her nose slightly, pressing it up before shooting her hands down to the button of your pants, feeling the hard line of your cock against the cloth, fumbling with the button until she successfully takes it apart. “Yes, right there, ugh, god, please, don’t stop..” 

“Don’t you know I never will,” you tell her, twisting your face over to get her lips on yours again, attacking her neck while you manage to get her pussy to clench around your fingers more. “You’re a greedy little girl aren’t you? Wanting to get fucked in a place like this.” 

“Yes. Yes.” Yunjin nods, compounding the right words while squealing with the drag upwards to her stomach, “I’ll let you do anything to me, please, fuck me right here, I don’t give a shit if somebody walks in, I want them to hear you fucking me with your cock.” 

The wistful inhale of breath through your lips is a moment of satisfaction, the second she gets her fingers wrapped around your cock, gently. She likes playing this little game with you, the kind of game to get you in the right mindset to where you’ll drop all sensibilities with the sole intention - the only intention: to have you fucking her like it’s the one purpose you’re all good for with Yunjin. It can go both ways, but more often than not, it’s always her that’s the one to get you over that sheer line of craziness, fueled by the reverberating sounds of her moans bouncing off the walls and words ordering you to put your cock inside her, pull you in to this inescapable black hole of lust that you’ll come back to again and again and again. 

“So-” you shut her up with a kiss that she hums in content, “fucking needy.” And when you slip your fingers out of her warm cunt, that should solidify the commitment to finally build on what you’re working towards.

Until Yunjin takes your matters into her own hands. 

The moment comes to you much like in a black flash; a blink and you’ll miss it type of deal. One second you’re pinning Yunjin to the door of the stall, the next second she’s pinning you to the door with her hands yanking your pants down, stroking your hard cock that’s already leaking with every pump. 

“Didn’t you want me to, shit-” you try to ask, Yunjin’s lips making you not think straight, the intoxicating flavor filling your tastebuds, pulling your bottom lip slightly while shoving you deeper into the door. “I thought you wanted-” 

“Shut up and relax,” she says, lowering herself to her knees as you’re getting vivid flashbacks to the exact same thing she did in the custodian’s closet a while back. “Can’t let you have all the fun now, can I?”  

It’s funny how Yunjin enticed and waltzed her way into your life, without really selling anything significant until shortly after, to where she would find herself as this pliant puddle of wobbling lips and uneven moans; only to have the whole persona completely shifted to where you’re the one getting thoroughly fucked over, and falling for it every single time. 

Never gets old, really. 

You’re still trying to process what’s happening, maybe it could be the buzz whirling around your head, as this vibrant hum of the flickering light over you in the men’s bathroom keeps you conscious. When you look at Yunjin’s gorgeous eyes, almost like she’s stargazing into yours, it doesn’t help with the obscene act of her jerking your throbbing cock, lathering it lightly with those delicate flicks of her tongue starting at the base, working her way up while you can feel the beads of sweat start to trickle down from your forehead. She’s basically asking for it: to wrap those plump lips around your cock, use her mouth as the sole bucket for you to spill inside, make you forget about any current worries plaguing your mind. 

She’s leaving these scattered chaste kisses across your shaft before pulling away, licking her lips slightly, mewling when she decides to play with you a bit longer, catching one of your balls into her mouth. The whole half of your upper body shifts, almost unsure what to do while her hand glides across your length with the help of her spit coating it. She rests just underneath the tip, puckering up at the sensitive area while your grip on her shoulder gets tighter. It’s the fucking drag, the way she traces her fingerstips and tongue, she’s so fucking evil. 

“Those fucking glasses,” you grit, hand ghosting to the right side of her head like you’re trying to prevent some piece of artwork from falling, potentially ruining it. “You’re not thinking about taking them off anytime soon, are ya?” 

“This is my favorite pair,” she muses, raising a hand up to your chest while her soft lips slips the head of your cock into her mouth, a prelude for what’s to come. “Wonder how I would look with your cum on them.” 

“Fucking. Filthy.” 

“Had enough yet?” Yunjin asks, teeny bit tipsy in her voice as she laughs, “Don’t try to think so hard this time.” 

All of that tension in your fists suddenly goes away when Yunjin finally dips her head down, deep, deeper, where your hand shifts from her shoulder into her hair, slippery hot and soothing the more she bobs at the gradual pace. Your eyes can’t help but zero their focus on the perfect glide her lips have over your shaft, increasing the suction every pull back and up till the back of your head hits the laminate behind you. It’s a recurring lesson you’re learning each and every single time: the moment Yunjin has your cock in any way, she intends to unravel you with her hands, her lips, her pussy; she’ll get what she wants, all you have to do is just take it. 

“Fuck.” Is a word you can manage to say; the only word you’ll keep saying, for that matter. 

“Mm?” 

Yunjin, is a perfectionist, an artist ready to give a jaw dropping performance; the way that her lips continue to slather up your cock, drawing back just past the tip, hollowing her cheeks slightly that makes you slap your free hand to the door to let her know that you’re teetering towards absolute chaos. She freezes for a second, just to build suspension, before picking up where she left off, taking you back into the unbelievable heat of her mouth, deepening the angle right to the base, until her nose grazes your hips, keeping you in her throat, feeling the first twitches get to you. 

And when she looks up with your whole length, the gaze is undeniably impossible to break away from. She’s reading into the shallow breaths leaving your mouth, how your chest does these irregular motions when she ups the sensual pace to something desperate, working you with the added twist of her hand, jerking you while some of her shoulder is exposed from the leather jacket she was wearing. You’ll mark up that collarbone sooner in here or later at home, it’ll happen. 

Few minutes pass for what feels like an eternity, she releases your cock from her mouth, returning back to your balls while she strokes you with your free hand, purring at times that you can barely hear due to the loud music right outside the bathroom. “Jen, you look so fucking good like that.” 

“Like it when I get your cock all fucking sloppy for me?” 

“God-” 

She forces your right hand to a bundle of her hair, you follow the natural instinct to make it into a ponytail or bun or at least something to hold onto when she takes your cock back into your mouth. No verbal cue, just the implication is enough to know what she wants and what you like, simple as that. 

Just when you think you’ve kept yourself safe from the immeasurable amount of pleasure filling your mind, tensing up your balls and stomach to ensure that you can hold out as long as you could, the eyes and ears can only register her head bobbing back and forth in a consistent rhythm, hypnotized at the sound of those gags she’s making along your shaft. 

You’ve got two hands in her hair, hips thrusting while pulling her head back in to meet in the middle. There’s a slight adjustment of tilting her chin up, so that you can shove your cock a little deeper. Thank God that you’ve secluded yourselves away from the crowd, not wanting anyone to see the campus’s ‘it girl’ take your cock so well into her throat. Nobody knows this side of her, except for you, and you’ll keep that to yourself. Here you go, you’re telling her, keep gagging on my cock like this. God, you look so amazing, holy shit, I can’t with your mouth, it feels so damn good. 

Thank the stamina you’ve built over time, holding out long enough while Yunjin continues her relentless assault on your cock, inhaling it every chance she gets. She’s got two hands dancing along the soaked shaft, hoping that the heat and friction combined would be the final push to make you bust right here and now. It’s happened before, and she’ll make you cum like this again; all you have to do is just let her. 

And so you say: 

“-jin, I’m gonna fucking cum.” 

Those enhanced eyes with those glasses of hers shoot up in excitement, popping her mouth off the head of your cock, furiously jerking it to no avail, with the only thing left to do is to break you. Your knuckles are probably white from the death grip you’ve got to her hair, but all you’re feeling is the flattened tongue she’s swiping on the underside, right at the tip until the contraction was too much to bear, and you let go. 

In most cases like this - that’s how everything goes. 

The face she makes is probably one of the most angelic expressions you’ve seen of her, the way her mouth opens in acceptance while her eyelids flutter shut. You let go in sudden pulses that diminish into jittery jolts, every sash of cum shooting out of your slit paints across the scaffold of her glasses, glazing her lens with the sound of content leaving her lips. An obscene image, there’s cum everywhere across her face, on her lips, some of it got to her eye, and in her hair; the sensation of pleasure gets driven out as your shaft moves gently on her face, giving exactly what she wants, to see you ruined. 

“Good fucking job, pretty boy. There we go.” 

The sigh that leaves your lips is much like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Eyes soon gandering down at the shimmering image of this devil in a daydream or something straight out of your fantasies, darting their tongue out and about with a smug grin spread across their face, with a pair of glasses in their hand with enough messy evidence to conclude that ‘wow, you actually came so much for me’ kind of deal was indeed, wow. 

She’s humming along this little victory in her throat when you check her phone for the time, only for it to be snatched from your hands and-

The selfie session is actually salacious. 

Yunjin shifts along the bathroom floor, next to your cock, camera angle ready and snapping away at the work that was just done on her. The poses she makes, puckered up lips and angling your delicate cock as the additional prop is just downright insanity from her. And you imagine if school wasn’t really her kind of style, then the other line of profession that you know exactly what would definitely suit her well. She’s a slut in the making, oh wait- she already is one. 

“Are you done?” you ask, moving your head around to ensure that there’s blood flow while you have a hand down to help Yunjin up, “I think it’s a good idea to go home now.” 

When she finally stands up, she puts back the cum covered glasses on her face, scrunching her nose while some of the evidence on her forehead, cheeks, and chin just stay where it's at; almost like a wax candle after being blown out. That beautiful face is completely yours to ruin, and you’re contemplating on whether she should back out to the club like that. 

“We should,” she says, while a stray hand grabs yours, feeling the plane of creamy skin underneath across her waist, slipping underneath her tube top to feel the hard nub of her nipple. Her head lolls a bit with the same glint in her eyes, and it only tells one thing: this girl wants more. “If you want to leave already.” 

Something snaps inside you, like a gear clicking in your brain to get it moving again. Legitimately, fuck. She’s got you all wrapped around her long finger, that pretty face that’s just been defiled and fucked upon that most of her mascara is dripping at the sides because of her tears; you’ve filled one hole in her body, what’s wrong with one more?

So you swivel her around, press the front over her body to the door of the stall, strip off that annoying and bulky biker jacket she stole from your closet, pull her top to where all of her lower back could be seen in the dim light. Her hands are quick to slip out of her pants, just enough to where you see the fine curve of her ass, pulling her hips out so that you can get the right position to slide your cock into her. She tiptoes a bit slightly to make the process easier, and she gets you-

“Sir,” she breathes, gasping out at the fufillment, “Your fucking cock-” Her head dips down while your length continues to part her walls. It’s already a good thing that she’s wet, but some of the leftover drool that’s damp around the skin of your shaft, makes everything in her cunt just that wetter. It’s slow, drawn out, and pure delight. 

“Your cunt, babe.” You’re gritting out, and you hear the bathroom door swing open to the laugh of a group of guys. The drag back is only met with the harsh drive back in, causing Yunjin to yelp out in pain. The group of guys sound confused at first, but it’s the audible slap of her ass that you make soon after solidifies the hint, and they hush each other to make sure that what they’re hearing is legit.

She whines at the second or third slap while the guys standing outside the stall murmur in confusion, shuffling out of the bathroom while the pitches in her moans pick up along with your pace, grabbing a handful of her hair to pull her head up, angling the curve of her back where you’re sinking deeper. 

“God, baby, I can’t-” she gasps out, feeling it all the way down that plush crevice of her pussy. She’s gotten so slick to the point where the glide feels effortless. 

“Uh huh,” you mumble, mind already drifting to a plane where you’d never see yourself return to. Yunjin has an outreaching hand backwards to somewhere along the top of your thigh, hoping to grasp with what little brain power she has while getting railed, your grip at her hips - how your fingertips are scraping along the fine skin, the visible red shade across the canvas of her ass when the light flickers for a moment before you’re drowned in darkness. “Just shut up and take it, like the little slut that you are.” 

She’s spilling out words and words of nonsense, giving you the limitless praises that you’ll hear again and again, telling how perfect you are, with that fat fucking cock, choking up her cunt in all the places and spots where she knows you’ll hit, the sounds of the slaps fading out from your ears like a soldier experiencing shellshock, penetrating her poor pussy until–

“I can feel you t-throbbing, please-” 

Christ, you’re cumming for a second time now. Yunjin’s hushed screech fills your ears while you pull out of her cunt, painting her ass across the slick skin. She’s pulling up the bottom of her leather jacket, hoping that you won’t hit, but you do. These white ribbons you’re spurting across the place will be a sight to behold; the things that this woman does to you, fist still wrapped tight around your cock while you’re seeing stars in the back of your head. 

“Jesus shit, Yunjin,” you warble, “fuck, I can’t believe- ugh.” She shelters her face beneath the red curtain of hair, slouching forward while you’re holding her at the hips still, thumb rubbing across the sides while the words coming out of her mouth are still incoherent, still in the utter awe of the defiling act that was committed in this bathroom stall. 

(Shit, you’re saying, we forgot about Kazuha and Sakura. What would they think? The look on their faces when they see Yunjin completely soaked in cum, they’ll probably congratulate her, considering the kind of freaks they are.) 

Yunjin finally stands up, guiding your hands to the bottom of her waist, twisting her head back so that you can inhale the sweet stench of sex emitting from her body, grinning with no care in the world. It’s unreal how she is, but you’ll chalk up a final thesis down the line. 

“I’ll say this again,” she tells you, turning around to let you have a closer look of her face still drenched in your cum, “Love it when you cum so much for me.” 

“You’re not serious about walking out of here looking like this.” 

“I am.” She projects, dropping her frames a bit slightly so that her eyes can hover above, “This is proof that I’m yours to the world. Now let's get out of here with Kazu and Sakura so that they can know what you just did to me.” 

–

Predicting Yunjin’s next move or quirk is practically a dice roll at times. 

Most times, it’s pretty easy and straightforward with all of the usual activities and shenanigans around school or at home. She’ll be in the cafe with you, buzzing her lips while you’re sitting across from her editing something for a commission or writing up a paper that will work towards a letter of recommendation if you pick and choose your professors wisely. You’ll look up to see that rich smile, something that will send your heart beating away double time from the first glance. Maybe on the way back home she’ll sneak a candid picture of you doing absolutely nothing, and she’ll adore it because you’re just being yourself. 

On other occasions, she’ll come pin you down or bring something up unprompted. All it really just takes is a simple conversation to get it going. 

“Hey, you’re done?” she asks, standing in the kitchen one night, whipping up one of your favorite comfort foods that will always be the problem solver: smoked salmon mixed with some vegetables. “Thought that you were never gonna come out of that room alive.” 

“Yeah,” you answer, ruffling the back of your head while your feet scrape across the hardwood, “That portfolio was a little bit tough to get started, but it’s almost there. Stomach’s killing me anyway so-” 

“Came just at the right time. It’s finished, have a seat.”

There’s something domestic with this style of living you’ve constructed. Wondering, maybe through the little hole in the lock of a door, what it would be like for you and Yunjin to have a place together. With stable incomes and the space wide open enough for literally anything and everything that you and her could imagine together. It’s all there, but it’ll be a matter of time before you cross that bridge. 

Yunjin twists around, smitten at the fact that you’re sitting across from her with your head resting on your hand, just watching from afar while your girlfriend is doing one of the most plain acts in cooking. She’s in your hoodie, a bit oversized to where it covers past her hips, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, there’s a soy sauce stain on it where the pocket is - you just wore that yesterday, but it’s fine. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I can?” you answer, stifling a laugh. 

She ruffles her messy bun a bit (since she knows that’s your one true weakness), putting the wooden spoon in her hand to her mouth, tipping it along her chin, scanning your expression with narrowing eyes, pulling her bottom lip inward slightly, clearly not satisfied with the vague reason. 

“Are you thinking about me naked?” She asks, tilting her head to the left. “I can see you imagaining it right now.” 

“No.”

“You are, aren’t you?”

With you saying nothing, the staring doesn’t help and it’s telling her otherwise. 

“You’re already imagining it!” She exclaims, pulling the wooden spoon in her hand back, nearly ready to throw it at you. All you give her is the simple shrug with your shoulders, proving her suspicions right, but you’ll be proud in not hiding things from her, especially if it leads to sexual escapades later. 

“Go wash your hands, dirty boy.” Yunjin instructs, giving a ‘shooing’ motion with her other hand while you’re standing up from the chair, not saying a word but using your face and arms to dispute her claim, despite being completely right and you’re picturing her not wearing anything beneath your hoodie anyway. “I can’t have you fucking me later if the tank is empty.” 

Softly laughing, you give her a pfft underneath the sound while looking away, already twisting your body towards the dark hallway where the bathroom is. “I was thinking about something else,” you tell her, cocking your head to refute her observation, “but I was also picturing you naked without my hoodie.”

“Mhm, okay. Sure.” she says, giggling while you’re walking away defeated, looking at her phone resting on the counter while you make headway to the bathroom. “Don’t spend too much time in the bathroom with your hand, by the way.” 

She notices the middle finger you’re giving behind your back, but you’ll listen and honor the request. 

–

Some days, she just does things without an explanation. Forget about questioning as to what or why, the glare in her eyes have sunk so deep into yours with this heavy urge to just let Yunjin have her way and show no restraint to what she wants from you. 

“No? I’m not really doing anything right now.” She answers, parting your legs while you’re shifting your hips forward to the edge of the cushions, feeling the layer of shorts and boxers get discarded in a few seconds. Kazuha’s on the other end, probably giving a debrief or probable game plan to get with a guy who’ll be fucking her later; it’s one of those weekends again, the usual business. 

You pay no attention, scrolling away lifelessly on three different social media apps with the occasional jump to reply to this group chat for one of your classes, seeing the crimson hair hovering right over your crotch while Yunjin takes your cock in her free hand, slowly stroking to full hardness. 

Looking over, she locks eyes with you, wearing her favorite pair of specs; the thickly rimmed ones, to be more specific. Those doe eyes magnified ten times while her long fingers work around your growing cock, leaving a slow kiss along the side while she’s listening to Kazuha’s verbal dump on the phone. “Who me? I’m just on the couch, sucking cock. No big deal.” 

Just as you’re about to say something, probably a quick ‘no’ to let Kazuha know of the complete opposite on the phone, her tongue swirls at the underside as her mouth seals around the head, pressing a bit across the sensitive area until your hips give up the lightest twitch off the seat. 

It’s so, so fucking warm in there. 

This is a problem. 

Yunjin hums this sort of answer, shimmying her head to take the rest of you into her mouth, simmering your length with a giggle as Kazuha’s muffled voice through the phone, probably rambling on about her recent adventures with Sakura that you don’t know about. You’ll think nothing of it, locking eyes with her while she pulls a bit of her hair over her ear, swirling tongue at a vein while her hand floats across your stomach, then down to your thigh, feeling the light scratch of her nails as she continues to bob her head up and down. 

“I’m gonna say something if you just-” you hush while the vice around your cock tenses up your legs and hips, feeling the press of your heels onto the floor while Yunjin muffles herself again. Some of her hair trickles down to the inner side of your thigh, holding onto some of her hair while your mouth is parted open, vacuuming your gut from the inside as your ass is practically off the seat. 

This is gonna get entirely fucked over if she doesn’t play nice. “Yunjin, I swear to fuck-” 

You’re stroking the crown of her hair, bobbing at a consistent pace now. At this point she’s just listening to Kazuha explain to Sakura now about her troubles with her friends with benefits, free hand that’s not holding the phone now at the base to hold your cock still as she does this party trick of pulling her mouth over her teeth - and the slide of her lips across the soaked surface is so sensitive, and you’re fighting every natural impulse to not ruin this just for your own pleasure. 

It’s so subtle, the way her tongue passes through, swirling the stiff line beneath, lips wet and warm across your cock, sliding in every way she pleases; your phone is pretty much off to the side, forget about texting back that group chat for your class. 

She pulls back, moaning while there’s a visible line of spit from the tip, “Huh? Oh, I don’t have any plans for tomorrow. But we can go with Chae if she’s free.” She smiles widely, hand skating up the length to keep you pulsing. “Me? I just have this one assignment, but I’ll have him help me when we’re done here.” 

“Can I? Uh-” 

“Yeah you can remind him, Zuha.” Yunjin glares, licking her bottom lip, kissing the area between your base and balls, tongue flattening and elevating up the side. She can tell that you’re getting agitated, with every passing second of her hot mouth and the addicting feeling of how her lips wrap around you, hoping to let her push you over the edge. “Alright, have fun with your dick appointment, girl. I’ll see you soon. ‘Kay, bye.” 

There could be a vein or two popping out of your brain and neck, and Yunjin flashes this mischievous smile, hand sliding on the upper half of your cock while her mouth nurses the base, beautiful hazel eyes crossing as one of your feet slip out from under the coffee table, head hitting the cushions while this girl between your legs take full control of the lower half of your body. A hum leaves your throat, slurring, Yeah, fuck. That’s all you’re able to say, but it’s fine. Relax, Yunjin will take good care of you, always does. 

Once she stands up a bit, twisting your cock to ensure that it’s still ready for what’s next, you don’t even remember her being in just her panties. The blank canvas of holy skin, the even divide of how her waist forms to her hips, long legs moving one over the other, and that ass is literally a treasure from another planet. “You’re the absolute worst,” you tell her, hand moving to touch the rare artifact that is her body; so perfect and ready for you to absolutely fuck and ruin. “I’ll remember that for later.” 

Yunjin swings her ass, pulling her lacy black panties to the side, one hand to your the top of your leg while the other is still wrapped with your cock, teasing the head with her glistening lips, dipping down to get that first rush of new heat; you’re groaning at this point, as her face hides but you can imagine the satisfied expression when she inserts you in. 

“Baby,” she mutters, keeping herself sliding down the fullness of you, letting every edge of your thick cock press against her walls - the feeling itself is too much to handle. Her ass crashes down, a measured test from the first move. You’ll make a rein with anything that’s within reach. The ass is one option, the crease where her hips and legs meet; her tits also, and let's not forget about that waist. 

You’re pulsing again. Her heat choking your cock is molten, you can hear the gasps in her breath, the sighs of delight from your own, filling her cunt like it's the only thing needed as of right now. 

“I’m so gonna get you back,” you growl, “by filling up your sopping little cunt with my-” 

The movements still for a bit, but the grind she does when she bottoms up your length at the hilt; you could’ve came right then and there, though you did everything in your power not to - not yet. 

She trembles for a second, muttering some nonsense that will have no attention towards while her pussy lips keep you focused on the grip - how it slides up and down. She stops, only to rise with her knees while giving the slightest look back. Fucking insane. 

“Please,” she begs, “I’ll let you do anything to have you cum inside me.” 

–

Sometimes, Kazuha likes the sudden change of patterns with the things you do with Yunjin.

Consider it to be a full circle moment to from watching her bring her fuck buddies over to the place, now it’s her watching you have your fun that was bound to happen sooner or later. She always brings that up once in a while, just to tease you. That’s the partial point of the social construct of college: to get with people and see if things work or not. If they do, great; and if they don’t, well that’s just part of the fun anyway. 

“Really?” Kazuha asks, amused at the sight taking place in front of her: Yunjin splayed across the kitchen countertop, “You two really have no shame.” She says, watching you lick your heart away over the skin of her naked body as Yunjin rakes her fingers into your hair, lets out a shaggy exhale when your lips slide up from her chest back up to her neck. 

You look up, clearly fed with what the observation was brought up now. 

“What can he say,” Yunjin groans out, caressing the back of your head when you’re nestled right underneath her jaw, “Lover boy here got a little hungry after our study session.” She giggles when you hit her favorite spot right at the pulse point, hands trailing underneath her back when she arches while her arms hook your back to keep the contact going. 

You pay no care to Kazuha, keeping your priority on Yunjin, who’s squirming at every touch and lick you’re giving to every discovered part across her body. “Can’t seem to get enough of me.”

“Whipped.” Kazuha laughs, walking behind you to the fridge, grabbing two bottles of water to take back to her room. “I was wondering whose shirt it was sitting in the middle of the hallway.” She looks over your shoulder, seeing her friend completely marked all over; up and down, neck and chest tattered with hickeys and bite marks, legs spread apart where your hips sit in between. “Are you coming tonight?” 

“To where?” You ask, letting a stray hand to her tit while you’re looking over to give Kazuha the proper attention. “I thought you didn’t have plans tonight.” 

“I didn’t,” Kazuha says, “Until Sakura finally let me have a go with her on and off fling she’s been seeing for the past two weeks. She showed him a picture of me and was like, automatically into me. Now I’m gonna close the deal with him.” 

“Are you now?” Yunjin asks, on an elbow while your stray hand trails down to her clit, lightly massaging it to keep her occupied. She’s tugging on your shirt, keeping a close eye to your fingers dancing along her leaking slit, sighing prettily. It didn’t take that long for her to get comfortable with Kazuha being in the house while you’re fucking her on any given time of the day, and the idea of privacy was thrown out the window long before that. 

“So that explains the fake ID sitting on the coffee table,” you tell her, feeling Yunjin’s hands on the elastic of your sweats, unveiling your cock when you take the hint and assist. “But don’t you have your own to use? Or did you lose it?” 

Kazuha’s extended period of silence says everything that you need to know about her situation. And the fact that it had Chaewon’s picture on the card, proves the slightest concern that’s rumbling through her mind right now. 

“Kazuha’s still a good girl at heart.” Yunjin observes, shuffling to the edge of the countertop while you’re tugging along the length, lightly tapping her core as the purrs start to fill up the kitchen. “You’ll be fine, we’ll move back to the room before Sakura comes to get you. Promise.” Her head hits the marble when you slip inside into her cunt, hooking onto the top of her thighs as the irregular breaths coming out of her start to stabilize. You haven’t even sunk all the way in yet, sliding until you’re parting her soaked lips, making her feel full. 

“I think you should go to Kura’s.” You add, looking up while composing yourself in Yunjin’s tight pussy. “Would be better for her to see that you’re ready at her place rather than the other way around, I think.” The slick should be the only thing you’re worried about now, her hand grasping onto your wrist when you drag out the first few times, gradually picking up the pace while the lovely glow on your girlfriend’s face starts to set in. “Just try to match the same hairstyle like Chae’s in the picture, and you’ll be fine.” 

Kazuha nods, pursing her lips while she starts to step away. “As much as I love to sit here and watch, I’ll treat myself to my own cock in about a few hours.” She walks away while you’re nicking your head and Yunjin’s waving a loose hand goodbye as Kazuha makes her way back to the room, relaying your focus to the girl at your hips getting slammed with every hit your cock makes into her sweet spot. 

“Now that she’s gone, where was I?” you say sweetly, shifting your hands upward to her hips, admiring those pretty pussy lips, clamping up her cunt. 

Yunjin loves how wrecked you get her, it’s an essential thing that will keep her going, the way she’s sighing out all of the praises and sounds, “G-God, please. Fuck me more.” 

You don’t even have to think twice about it. Because that’s the typical Huh Yunjin style she proses. It comes in a cycle, going on and on and on for as long as you could recall, unsure how things fell to the way that it did, but you’ll be there to listen to everything that there is to hear coming both from and out of her lips. 

–

(The funny thing about patterns, is the sense of normalcy at how things are around the apartment. 

You don’t even hear the front door open since you’re heavily focused on Yunjin’s thick ass bouncing back on your cock, giving yourself time to breathe while she’s doing all the work for the next few moments. Kazuha peers through the crack of the open door leading into the room, a lone pair of eyes finally catching the picture of you two on the bed; there’s her forehead, slipping back out into the hallway in a string of laughs. 

A sole assumption that Sakura’s skill for matchmaking helped Kazuha’s love life get it in the right direction.) 

–

You’re not entirely sure how things flowed this way. 

Though, it’s been really easy to get swept up in all of the different responsibilities falling onto your plate as the weeks continue to pass. Assignments get turned in on time, some parties are on the calendar every few weekends, and the days are winding down until you’ve got that degree in your hand. Only a matter of time before the real world’s calling, but that bridge will come when you get to it. 

“What's the measured response?” Yunjin asks one day, tilting her head at an angle while watching something on her iPad, “I know the whole premise of this show but, I’m literally lost at what the final movie’s overall theme is.” 

She’s got her feet up on the seat, you on the opposite end zoning out after she made you cum down her throat in a corner hidden away from everyone else at the library, not trying to let the sounds of her soft moans fill your ears as she’s slurping your cock’s life away in broad daylight (technically working hours, but you get the point.) 

“I mean, the movie itself is-” 

“Amazingly depressing, unsettling, downright traumatic. I think I might just cry.” Yunjin answers, leaning forward as you’re wrapping up a page of some Murakami book that Sakura handed to you for an early graduation gift. “Is that book also depressing to read too? I know Kkura said that she has a couple at her place.” 

You look at the front cover. Norwegian Wood was pretty much a blind read, and Sakura herself didn’t really tell you what the whole story was about to begin with. So far, it’s been intriguing with every ten pages or so, aside from the fact the love interest has got some issues by a third of the way in? Maybe halfway? You’re flipping pages whenever you can because it’s a good way to pass time. 

Yunjin leans a little more across the table, studying your features, the way that your eyes move with every passing word in the passage, pursing her lips with every small nick of your head when there’s something interesting to note or probably worth annotating later. She thinks that you’re being intrigued, when in reality, you’ve just discovered another thing about the main love interest that’s running the ‘oh, what the fuck?’ in your mind just now. 

A look up slightly above the pages, and she’s sitting there. From her eyes alone they’re staring at you in admiration. 

It’s still impossible to tell what this woman wants from you sometimes. 

“What?” you ask, softly giggling when she’s giving this quizzical look with her knuckles resting under her chin. “I thought you said you needed to study?” 

“I did,” she shrugs. “I’ve just come to the probable conclusion that you’re an interesting human being.” 

“Well what the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Yunjin bobs her head confidently. “You’re a smart guy.” An outreached hand over yours to close the book, her eyes flick back to you again while you’re trying to observe her body language, the way her glances exchange from seeing you to some passerby walking in the library. “I’m sure you’re still thinking about earlier.” 

Your jaw drops slightly, repulsed at the sly wink that she’s giving you. There’s no deniability coming from you, she’s just pulling the rope at every urge within the bones in your body to see what she demands. “And what if I am?” 

She grins, finger between her teeth, “What do you say we get out of here then?” 

You’ll follow her back to the apartment in a heartbeat. 

–

A quote is said at the end of a lecture one day from your finance professor: “This too, shall pass.” The interpretation alone could be applied to a wide variety of things throughout a busy schedule. It could be passed as advice, a lesson, a reminder; or at least a simple mantra to go by once you’ve reached the crossroads from one turn of the page to the next. 

Some of the remaining morning classes get skipped. 

Some of the study sessions leading up to finals get cut short. 

Every passing day until the eventual break has been met with a metric of unpredictability that you still can’t quite fathom about. That’s the beauty of what life has to offer, actually - to break the solid cycle of that routine that’s basically second nature up until now, do stuff that’s worth the fun without worrying about what’s to follow after. You’re always on the receiving end of this, getting pulled by Kazuha or Sakura or Chaewon or literally anyone that’s willing to peer pressure you into doing the stupid shit that they always get themselves into. 

At the end of every probable argument, Yunjin always gets the final say. 

Doesn’t matter if you’re fighting the sounds rumbling out of your chest, or the endless streams of begging please keep fucking me coming out of her. What keeps you in is the way she rolls her hips, slowing the movement for a second when she’s reaching over to the nightstand to grab her phone, answering Hanni’s call as she has a hand to your mouth to keep quiet. The drag alone is an overload for your brain, falling off the edge till you’ve got your load fucked deep enough into her pussy and get several more after because she wants it. 

She’s got the phone between her shoulder and ear, “yeah, got it. Okay, awesome. I’ll see you soon, yeah, mhm, we’ll be there, I’ll tell him. Yes, yes, yes. Uh huh, bye.” 

God, and when she pulls herself up to a kneeling position over you, looking below at how well your cock fills her. It’s making you want to do all of the things she knows you’ll do to her. Put her in her place, have her screaming until the neighbors next door come over to complain for the hundredth time, and for the love of god, just keep her hips there so that you can-

“Make a mess of my pussy baby. I want to feel it so deep inside me.” 

This side of her…man. It’ll happen now, and it will pass. But it will most definitely come back again soon. 

-

The weeks after blow by like a bullet train, and before you know it, it’s grad season. 

It’s a few days before everyone in your cohort gets the sought out reward of walking across that stage and pulling that tassel from the left over to the right. You’re at a party hosted by one of Sakura’s friends, taking it easy in one of the seating areas in the backyard with the overhanging lights, occasionally fighting off the bugs that come every now and then. Consider this to be a tune into one of those many conversations: 

“So what are we thinking?” You’re looking down to see Yunjin lounging, head on your lap as her lanky legs are taking the remaining space at the left side of the couch. “You still haven’t told me about your new interest in art recently.” 

She looks up to your hand massaging her head before returning eye contact with you, staring, contemplating before giving an answer. “I told you. I like the whole dreamy, pastel, impressionist vibe from certain works.” 

“So like Van Gogh?” 

“Kinda. I’m more into Sorolla and Monet.” Yunjin answers, voice lighting up. “Now that I think about it, a trip to France would add years to my life.” 

You nod in agreement, but your attention gets diverted to the beer pong table beneath the awning, watching as Kazuha and Sakura win their game with their new boyfriend. Just by looking at them, it’s pretty odd to see how it’s working, but you’ll give props to the effort they’re putting in. 

Yunjin then sits up next to you, stretching her limbs, yawning a bit with a pout at the end. Her hair shuffles down her shoulder, flashing her face towards you, bright smile and squinting and eyes flickering. She’s doing that thing again: trying to assess what’s going through your thoughts right now, hoping to pick apart your brain bit by bit since she’ll manage. 

“What,” you ask her, head falling horizontally, “is there something on my face?” 

“I guess you’re on the edge,” she tells you, shifting her body closer to yours, examining your appearance with a move of your hair to the side, tracing a finger tip along the lines of your face; to the cheekbones, then the jaw, dusting off a stray leaf on your collarbone before cocking her head back in questioning, “Relax, I’m just trying to figure out what’s really on your mind.” 

(Consider it to be Yunjin’s signature idiosyncrasy. She’s good at reading faces and eyes, connecting the dots of what one’s true thoughts are. It falls into a certain structure, the way that you answer her questions, how your body reacts to hers, the key habits that falter when she’s getting warmer to something. You envy how good she is at reading between the lines, wishing that she’d be anything else but that.) 

Though, two can play at her game. “I think you know what’s on my mind.” 

Her eyes glisten off of the floating lights from above, fading laughs in the background like there’s this bubble encapsulating you two. She’s been in this scenario so many times before, and from the look in your eyes, it leads to one thing and really one thing only. 

She grins, pulling her bottom lip inward with a twirling finger to the end of her hair, “So. You wanna like, get out of here?” 

[criminalamnesia]

Stay

warnings: enemies to friends, hinted enemies to lovers, Tyler’s sister!reader, mean!scott, bickering, very real tornado danger, mentions of a car crash and physical injuries, not proofread, f!reader

summary: the three time you see storm par’s one and only scott, including the one in which he saves your life.

author’s note: look at me, finally writing something again! I’ve been extremely busy and, truthfully, in a writers slump. I started writing this after seeing twisters, and I just got the motivation to come back and finish it. I’ve been obsessed with this man since that movie, and good lord do we need more fics of him. anyways, enjoy! (also, for my traitor fans— I haven’t forgotten about you! I hope to work on the next part soon!)

the first time you’d seen scott, you’d wanted to break his jaw, and you hadn't even gotten his name.

“get lost on the way to the hillbilly convention?”

his tone is snarky, his eyes full of disdain as he watched you slide out of tyler’s truck.

your eyes had widened, your spine straightening as you registered his unprovoked hostility.

“the fuck is your problem?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you come back to your senses. you look him up and down, huffing a laugh at his clothes.

“you look like you’re going to a fuckin’ business meeting.” you say, coming to a stop in front of him. your cowboy boots dig into the dirt, and the sun beats down on your face.

perfect day for storm chasing, as your brother had said. darkening clouds rolled in the distance, and the wind was steadily picking up. according to lilly's drone data and tyler's instincts, your first chase would occur sometime within the next few hours.

you had been away at college when tyler’s tornado-chasing YouTube channel took off. you’d always loved the thrill of being close to the storms, but even when you came home to visit during summers, tyler refused to let you tag along.

until now, that is. now that you’ve graduated with a degree in meteorology, just like him. he had always accused you of wanting to follow in his footsteps.

“don’t mind storm par over there,” comes your brother’s drawl as he appears beside you, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. “the stick up his ass seems to have been lodged a little deeper recently. you’ll get used to it,” tyler grins, barking a laugh at the brunette's scowl.

"haven't seen you before," another man moves to stand beside the brunette. he's also wearing storm par gear, and you watch as him and the taller man share an unreadable glance.

"she's new," tyler responds for you, his wide grin still present as he acknowledges the shorter man with the tip of his hat.

"i'd run while you can, sweetheart," the taller one says, a look of pity in his eyes as he looks back to you. "fucking him isn't worth dying over."

you stare at the man for a moment before bursting into laughter. the storm par pair's eyes both widen, their stares moving from your hysterics, to tyler's rolled eyes, and then to each other.

"you two are supposed to be scientists, huh? the guys who are gonna 'tame tornadoes?'" you throw the last two words in air quotes as your laughter subsides.

the shorter of the two men nods, while the taller opens his mouth once more. "that's right. while you morons are out trying to get yourselves killed, we'll be busy doing shit that actually matters."

"right, right," you nod along, glee shining in your eyes as you stare at the taller one. "you must be so smart, then. where'd you get your degree?"

"MIT," he says smugly, popping the gum in his mouth.

"MIT, wow," you whistle, your eyes finding your brother's. tyler just shakes his head, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

"you got a degree from MIT, and you're too stupid to tell that he-" you jab a finger towards tyler. "is my fucking brother?"

the man's smug grin instantly falls as his eyes scan you, then tyler, and then fall back onto you. tyler steps forward, smacking a hand on the man's shoulder with a laugh.

"meet my little sister, storm par. may not have gotten a degree from MIT," he says, tipping his cowboy hat to you. you mime tipping an invisible hat back at him. "but she seems to be a hell of a lot smarter than you."

the second time you see scott, you still don't learn his name.

"jesus christ, this thing is huge!" you yelp as tyler swerves the truck back onto the dirt road. he scowls as the storm par truck ahead of him jerks back and forth on the path, blocking his approach.

"how's the wind lookin'?" he asks, his words clipped as his hands grip the wheel tighter. wheat fields ripple on both sides of the road, an ocean of tan as the sky continues to darken.

"pickin' back up," you tell him, glancing down at the laptop in your lap. it was displaying real-time data of the atmospheric conditions. the software had cost a pretty penny, but had been worth it. plus, it had been more than covered by tyler's t-shirt sales. cheesy or not, tyler’s face on a shirt was worth his weight in gold to his followers.

tyler groans as the white truck in front of him cuts him off again.

"ty, just go around!" you yell at him, your eyes widening as you stare out of the passenger side window. the clouds overhead were beginning to swirl.

"i'm tryin' to drive nice," he tells you through gritted teeth. "don't wanna make you sick-" he begins, but you roll your eyes and reach over, jerking the wheel. the car swerves off the road and into the ditch beside it, and tyler scrambles to avoid hitting a wire fence as he swats at your hand.

"what the fuck?!" he yells at you, his eyes cutting to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"stop tryin' to baby me!" you tell him. "show these storm par pricks what we're made of."

tyler falls silent, clearly debating his next move. you're about to grab the wheel again when his foot slams down on the gas and the truck lurches forward. you cheer, throwing a fist in the air as you laugh with glee.

"just don't tell mom!" he says to you, laughing along.

as the truck speeds forwards, tyler lets off the gas just enough to keep speed with the storm par truck. you lean past him to get a look into the cab, and there's the brunette you'd had the displeasure of meeting a few days ago.

you can see his scowl from here, and your grin is wide as you hold your middle finger up, waving it around to make sure he couldn't miss it. his scowl deepens, and before he can even think of responding to the gesture, tyler hits the gas again.

"what was that for?" your brother asks as you lean back into you seat.

you shrug. "just havin' fun."

the third time you see scott, he saves your life.

it's a week after the middle-finger incident. although storm par and your brother's wranglers have been following the same storms, you haven't had the pleasure of bothering the tall brunette, much less seeing him. you’d caught glimpses, but he seemed to be keeping his distance. you supposed he’d finally grown tired of your constant teasing.

you don't know why you find yourself caring. he's an asshole. an asshole who hates you, your brother, and everything the two of you stand for. who constantly underestimates and looks down on you.

and yet you miss his scowl and the unmistakable pop of his bubblegum.

"hey, you okay over there?" boone asks as he leans over the center console, his head peeking out between the two front seats. you know the question is directed at you, as boone is watching you like a hawk.

"yeah, fine," you shrug, your eyebrows furrowed as you lean down, getting closer to the screen of your laptop.

"ty, turn the music down for a sec," you tell him, and he listens without protest. a rare occurrence, but now wasn't the time for bickering.

what had first appeared to be a measly EF1 had begun to grow. it wasn't dying out, and things were starting to get scarily real as moisture kept feeding into the funnel miles ahead of you.

"this thing isn't stopping," you tell the two men. "you need to tell the rv to turn around. hell, we should turn around."

boone shakes his head, leaning further into your space. his eyes scan your computer screen, and although he's learned a lot from tyler, he still doesn't see what you see.

"nah, it's gonna be fine. ty said it's gonna die out anyways, right? we just need to get in it before it does."

"boone," you warn, turning in your seat to face him. "love you, but shut the fuck up right now." you reach out a hand and grip tyler's arm.

"ty, I mean it."

rain starts pelting the windshield. you can hear the wind howling outside of the truck, and you shudder as hail begins to pound against metal.

tyler mumbles something under his breath as he kicks the windshield wipers up to maximum speed. "you sure?" he finally says.

he turns to look at you as you nod, and those precious seconds are all it takes for the world to spin on its axis.

a fence post slams through the windshield as rain and hail continue to obscure the world around you. you scream and tyler jerks the wheel out of instinct. the truck turns sharply, running off the road. your stomach drops as the truck drops and rises again- your own personal rollercoaster from hell.

"tyler!" you yell, gripping the straps of the harness holding you in.

"workin' on it!" he responds, jerking the wheel the other way. the truck rights itself back on the road, and you close your eyes as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

fuck, the others-

"boone, tell the others to turn around now!" you yell at him, and he's nodding frantically from his seat in the back, his hands fumbling for the walkie talkie in the floor.

"so much for an EF1!" tyler says, and although his tone sounds easy, his face betrays him. you can see the glimpse of fear in his eyes. it mirrors your own.

"yeah, ri-" you begin, but the sentence never fully forms.

you black out as another car slams into the passenger side of the truck.

"c'mon, get up!"

everything feels fuzzy. your head is pounding, and your ears are ringing. pain shoots through your body, engulfing every inch of skin. you think something has to be broken, judging from the numbness you feel on the right side of your body.

"get up!"

your eyes begin to crack open, but your vision is blurry. someone is a few feet in front of you, but you can't make out who it is.

"for fuck's sake-" the voice growls, and you can just hear the faint crunching of glass before your hearing comes back in full force.

the wind is an unbearable howl, and the rain and hail pounding down around you make hearing your own thoughts almost impossible-

your thoughts. what had happened? one second, you're driving and then-

fuck. tyler. boone. where were they?

your eyes shoot open, your body jerking against the harness still keeping you strapped to the leather passenger seat.

you look to your left- to the driver's side- but tyler isn't there. you try to turn you head to see into the back, but a sharp pain in your neck quickly stops you.

"tyler?!" you yell, but your voice is carried off by the wind. you can't even hear your own words.

"boone?!"

"they're fine!" a voice calls to you, and your gaze shoots back to the driver's side. you can see a man crouching by the driver's now blown-out window— which is upside down.

you were upside down. the truck had rolled with the impact of whatever had hit you. everything comes back with devastating clarity, and even though adrenaline pumps through your veins, the pain is beginning to become unbearable.

“can you move?” the voice says. you can’t tell who it is through the spots in your vision and the sheets of rain still coming down.

“I-” you start, pushing your chest against the harness. “I think so.”

“good,” you recognize it as a man’s voice. “then hurry the fuck up and get out!”

under different circumstances, you would’ve scoffed at the order, but now wasn’t the time for defiance. your life was literally on the line, and if you didn’t get to shelter before the tornado engulfed you—

well, you didn’t want to think about that.

you force your brain to gather itself, directing your thoughts toward moving your aching limbs. your left arm is the only one that responds, coming to fumble with the metal buckles of the harness.

the first one unclasps and you swear you could cry from relief.

“any day now!” the man calls, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. you reach your left hand across your torso, working at the clasp on your right side.

“im trying!” you call back. once you get it undone, your arms fall downward as gravity claims them. you groan in pain as your right arm shifts. something is definitely broken, but you can’t afford to give into the pain at the moment.

you reach for the lap belt, tugging at it with a shaking hand. the wind continues to howl around you, and you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. hopelessness begins to eat away at you as you try and try again to undo the lap belt, to no avail.

“it’s stuck!” you call out, hoping the man can hear you. “I can’t get out!”

your breathing is picking up. your chest feels tight, and the feeling you still have in your left hand ebbs as you begin to panic.

you don’t want to die. you know that. it scares you shitless.

but you don’t want anyone else to die, either.

you’re stuck. whoever is outside of the truck isn’t. he should run while he can—

“hold on!” you’re jarred from your thoughts as a figure begins to crawl through the hole left by the blown-out window, and that’s when you register your savior.

it’s him, the brunette from storm par. the man who belittled you, who rolled his eyes at every sentence you spoke, and who you somehow found yourself missing.

he’s crawling into the cab, his arms no doubt suffering cuts from the shattered glass littering his path. “I’ve got you,” he calls to you, and when your eyes meet his, there’s no look of disdain. there’s thinly veiled terror.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him, and you can’t tell if the wetness on your face is from your tears or the rain that’s now blowing sideways into the destroyed truck.

“shut the fuck up,” he tells you, groaning as he slices his forearm on a jagged piece of metal.

“im serious,” you reply, your left hand still fumbling with the belt restraining you. “I can’t feel my right side—”

“will you shut up? please?” he heaves out, his face inches from yours now as he reaches for the lap belt.

you fall silent, but not because you’re heeding his demands. no, you’re too busy examining his face. he’s never been this close to you, and you’re taking in every little detail before death comes to sweep you up.

can’t blame a girl for wanting to gawk at a handsome man in her final minutes, can you?

“stop staring at me,” he grits out, his forearm flexing as he tugs at the lap belt. something has the fabric trapped, and although he’s freeing it inch by inch, you’re not sure if—

the belt gives, and his arms leave your lap to cushion your fall, protecting your head from slamming into the metal below you.

he doesn’t say anything, but you watch as his gaze flits over your right side. stone cold as ever, his expression gives nothing away regarding your physical state. you can’t bring yourself to look down.

“im gonna pull you out, okay?” he says, and you absently nod your head. the pain is heavier now— harder to push away. your vision swims as he hooks his arms under yours and shuffles back on his knees.

agony spreads through your thoughts as the numbness gives way to excruciating pain. your eyelids flutter, but the man doesn’t stop. he grunts as he pulls you forward again, slowly but surely removing you from the truck.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him again, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to stifle a scream of pain. “im not going to be able to walk. I’ll just slow you down—”

“jesus christ, you don’t listen, do you? im not leaving you here to die.”

he finally makes his way out of the wreckage, pulling you with him. once you’re free of the ruined truck, he stands on shaky legs— fighting to maintain balance as the wind whips across his figure. he reaches down, scooping you up in his bloody arms, and starts to run as best he can. the rain is so thick you can’t even see a foot in front of you, let alone where he’s taking you.

lightning cracks overhead, followed by thunder so loud it shakes your shattered bones. your head tilts up to the sky, and you watch in horror at what was once an EF1 tornado races toward you. it’s got to be an EF4 by now— maybe even a 5 based off its sheer size.

“drop me!” you screech, your working hand clutching the soaked fabric of his storm par shirt.

if he hears you, he pays you no mind as he continues to struggle against the wind.

with your eyes focused on the impending doom behind you, you don’t even realize when he reaches his destination. he jumps down into a deep ditch, and you hear him groan as his feet hit the ground. he must be hurt, too.

“is she alright?” a voice calls, and your eyes widen as boone comes into view, a large cut across his forehead that looks like it definitely needs stitches.

“not the time!” the storm par man shouts, ducking behind your friend. your eyes catch boone’s over his shoulder, and you give your fellow storm chaser a weak wink. boone’s lips crack into a wide smile, even amidst this horrible storm.

the brunette carrying you falls to his knees, laying your back against muddied dirt. he refuses to let you go, his arms cradling you against his chest as he shelters you with his own body. there’s nothing to hold onto except for him, and you know if the tornado gets any closer, you’ll both be goners.

you close your eyes tightly, welcoming your end despite your overwhelming fear— but it never comes.

you pry your eyes open as the sounds of wind and rain finally begin to subside. the body above yours still clutches you tightly.

“are we alive?” your voice comes out a whisper. your left hand flexes against the man’s chest, and sure enough, it meets a solid body. he’s not an imagination— he’s real. you’re still here.

“yes,” his chest rumbles with the words, and his arms slowly snake out from under you as he sits back on his haunches. his eyes are locked on yours, his icy blues unreadable as he watches your face.

you don’t say anything for a moment. and then,

“you’re the stupidest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

his eyes widen in surprise, and his stern facade cracks for the first time— at least, that you’ve seen— and he chuckles.

the bubble surrounding you two quickly pops as tyler’s voice meets your ears. you turn your head and there he is— your brother, running towards you with relief written all over his face.

“oh, thank god,” he says, throwing himself to his knees and scooping you up in a hug. you hiss in pain and he pulls back, his hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down with a grimace.

“you took the worst of it. those storm par pricks—” his eyes cut to your savior, who is still sitting nearby, watching the two of you. “hit us. you and boone were knocked out, and you were stuck, so I got him first and was coming back, but—”

“ty,” you interrupt, your left hand landing atop one of his. “it’s okay. im okay. we’re okay.”

tyler takes a deep breath and nods, his eyes flitting back down your body, focusing on your right leg. you follow his gaze, grimacing at the unnatural twist of the limb. no wonder it had gone numb.

“I’ve had worse,” you tell him, taking notice of your limp, lacerated right arm.

“now’s not the time to play hero,” your brother chastises, standing up before reaching down and picking you up. your eyes meet your savior’s once more. he’s standing now, too, his arms crossed over his chest as he matches your gaze.

“guess we owe you a thanks, clipboard. and you owe us a new truck.” tyler says, to which the brunette rolls his eyes.

“ty,” you roll your eyes, too, as you keep your gaze locked with the brunette’s. “ignore my brother. thank you for saving my life….” you trail off, realizing, truly realizing for the first time that you don’t know his name.

“scott.” he tells you. you nod.

“thank you, scott.”

he nods back, turning his back to you as he starts to limp back to the road your vehicles had been abandoned at. you doubted they would still be there.

just as you’re about to look away from his retreating form, he glances over his shoulder and gives you a true, sweetly small, smile.

maybe storm par isn’t so bad after all.

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BLACKOUT. featuring tartaglia.

↻ the 11th of the fatui harbingers has some... questionable kinks.

tags : asphyxiation, choking, dry humping, sparring kink, hate sex, light dirty talk, death threats, semi-public sex, light spanking, clit slapping, squirting, creampie, loss of consciousness // wc. 1k

author's note : another late one.. don't worry, the next one is all lined up n ready in my drafts !! this is most likely the freakiest one yet bc why does tartaglia have a sparring kink... also this is the heaviest one yet too so please mind sharp of the tags !! someone passes out in this one so be warned. i know you alr know the drill, notes n reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated here but can i remind u not to spam (esp w/o a follow) because that can decrease my reach and my stuff won't show up anymore :( i love you all, thank you for 400 followers and see you in the next one!

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

“mmm, fuuuck, you’re a feisty one, aren’tcha, doll?”

you didn’t know what you were signing up for when you decided to spar with the 11th of the fatui harbingers. in fact, you were more forced to spar with him than of your own volition. he thought you were pretty, and he thought you would look even prettier pinned underneath him, panting and begging within an inch of your life. 

what ajax didn’t expect, however, was to be flipped on his back with you straddling atop him, hands closed tightly around his neck. he also didn’t expect that it would feel so good.

blood drips from your forehead and your lip is swollen from one to many punches to the face, but fuck you look so beautiful. “you gonna kill me or what?”

“shut up,” you grunt, squeezing harder. “shut up, shut up, shut up.”

you’re driving him damn near insane. you look angry and feral, and it’s a look that only the most determined of warriors wear during battle. 

as of right now, you’re determined to kill him, or at least make him give up. the thing is, you’ve clearly underestimated the man who calls himself the 11th fatui harbinger. 

“are you… hard?” something big and firm protrudes through his trousers, and he looks up at you, lips cracking into a smile. 

“right on the money, angel.” his hips thrust upwards once, his mind growing hazy at the buzz of adrenaline flowing through his veins. “you gonna squeeze tighter? i’m quite liking this.”

you scowl at him. “you’re disgusting, tartaglia.”

“it’s ajax, baby,” he manages to say through his lack-of-oxygen induced haze. “you gonna call me that while you’re chokin’ me out?”

god, you hate him. god, god god, you want him dead, but you can’t suppress the feeling of victory washing over you. you managed to make a harbinger hard, and all you had to do was threaten to kill him. “why would i give you that pleasure?”

“you seem to be happy enough sittin’ on my dick and trying to kill me, baby, the least you could do is call me by my real name, no?” he has no bargaining chips here, especially since you might actually kill him cold turkey. “move your hips for me.”

“you’re in no position to be making orders.”

“and you’re in a good enough position to get grinding.” when you swivel your hips in the slightest, his hands twitch, trying his hardest not to grip your ass under your skirt desperately. who even wears a skirt to a fight? “hurry it up. i’m starting to get bored.”

this guy. he’s so fucking annoying, but you can’t help but clench around nothing at the way he looks up at you, eyes hooded and lip quirked up in a smirk as he tries to move his hips to no avail, and suddenly, you’re left with two options;

option one: get the fuck off of him and run as far as humanely possible in the hopes that he won’t catch up to you. 

option two: fuck him, and fuck him. 

it’s a good thing that in situations like these, you like to think primarily with your pussy and not your head.

“ajax!”

“that’s it angel, fuck, you’re doin’ such a good job.”

your skirt is abandoned somewhere in the sparring ring and your breasts spill out of your shirt as you bounce in his lap, eyes squeezed shut and hands latched around his neck, nails digging into its supple flesh. 

oh, he’s liking this. you swear he grows two times bigger every time you squeeze on his neck, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as his tip bumps your cervix. this is the deepest position possible, and he’s hitting you just right, despite being delirious from the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain from your hands around his neck. 

when you decided to fuck him, he gave you one order and one order only; hold on tight. and damn did he give you the ride of your life, because you’re twitching atop him, hands attaching and detaching from his neck as you struggle to keep your consciousness afloat. 

whilst your hands stay wound around his bruised neck, his hands are seemingly everywhere. one moment he’s squeezing your tits through your torn shirt and the next he’s spanking your ass, warning you that he’s going to speed up and that you need to hold on tighter unless you want to fall off. 

“ ‘m close-!” you warn him of your impending orgasm, hands trembling around his neck as he starts to deepen his thrusts. you can barely focus on the look of his face, but the bastard is smiling, his own eyes starting to flutter shut as he starts to see dark spots clouding his vision. ajax is about to pass out, but he doesn’t even deserve such a luxury without feeling you cum all over his cock. 

with what little strength he has left in his arms, he slides his hand from your ass to your clit and gives it tight little slaps, eyes urging you to cum as his mouth drops open in ecstasy. this feeling, having you not only squeeze his throat but his cock too, has him delirious, and he totally thinks he could become completely addicted. 

“cum f’me, angel. come on, c’mon, i wanna fucking feel it, baby…” he uses the last of the oxygen in his lungs to give you one final command, and as ajax blacks out, he feels you squirt on it, plastering your juices all over the floor of the sparring ring before collapsing on top of him. 

in his newly (and partially short lived) vegetative state, his cock pumps you full, his seed leaking out of the creases in your cunt. it takes a couple of seconds for you to come to, and when you do, you’re faced with a sprawled out ajax on the floor, eyes just closed and lips parted gently. 

you panic momentarily because you think you’ve actually killed him, until you see those damn lips of his stretch into a smile. “thank you doll.”

you’re definitely not sparring with this freak again.

PREVIOUS : BABY MOMMA ft. k. nanami NEXT : SAY ‘AAH’ ft. wriothesley

liked that? check out the WE'RE SO BACK main masterlist.

© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. chain divider by @/cafekitsune

[faeflowerz]

Savanaclaw Imprinting on You

I have nothing cheeky to say. Let's do this.

Warnings: My gross misunderstanding of animals, Bullying Leona for being a big chonk

Characters: Ruggie, Jack, Leona

Ruggie imprinting on you is an "oh shit" moment for him. He lives his life so casually and when he sees you, like really sees you for the first time, he's acting unwise. Ruggie will do things for you that he wouldn't for anyone else. He doesn't ask for you to return the favor. He even shares his food.

Now this last one is particularly special for him given that he values food more than his peers. Food is how he communicates and finds pleasure. I won't get too far into the feederism side, but I think there'd be a lot of "You should eat. Have you had breakfast?"

But it's not all picnics and dandelions. Hyenas are pretty scary if you piss em off. So if one of your guy friends touches you the wrong way or tries to tease him about his sudden obsession with you, he will go on the offense. Lots of growling and hes ready to turn them into a hashtag. You gotta drag him away every single time.

"Dude, you can't just go around picking fights with everyone! What's your damage, Ruggie?"

"I wouldn’t be so mad if those assholes kept their hands off of you!"

"That's what this is about? They mess around all the time, it's not a big deal."

"It is to me! I don't like it!"

"Okay, but why though? Why would you give a fuck?" You shake your head, frustrated by the look he was giving you.

"Because I'm jealous!" He barks. "I don't want anyone else touching you but me!" Everything is quiet as you try to process what he just said.

"Ruggie...what-"

"I like...being around you all the time. And all I can think about is you. And...ugh...this is so stupid." His cheeks are cute and pink as he mumbles his way though his confession. And you, you're smiling. Seeing him get so real with you is so sweet and touching. As he's trying to justify his behavior, you place a sweet kiss on his nose. Then he's all shishishi cause he got kissed.

When Jack imprints on you, he's pretty tsundere about it. Suddenly he's hanging around you and by extension the other first years. Its not like he loves you and how you smell and the way you laugh at your dumbass friends. He just...needs to be within five feet of you at all times. Oh, and that tail? It's wagging every single time you acknowledge him or give him attention. The most antisocial boy is suddenly craving your affection.

And of course Ace is gonna clown him for it. Though it feels a little bit different. "Is there somethin you're not telling us? No fair that you two have A Thing going on the down low."

"What are you even talking about?" Jack crosses his arms, clearly trying to keep cool.

"Come on, dude. You lit up when Prefect sat next to you," Ace pouts at the both of you before calling you out too. "Are you together?!"

"Wh-what?! What would make you think that?!"

And all of your friends have examples. Waay too many. And then, Ortho says, "You know, imprinting can happen to beast men too. There's a chance that-"

"What happens between me and Prefect is our business. I didn’t ask any of you to help me confess either."

Major self report. His tail is going a trillion per hour and he realizes what he just said. "Damn it."

"Ha! I knew it!" Ace chortles.

"Wow...that was pretty bold, Jack," Epel hides his grin behind his hand. As for you...

Well, you're smiling like an idiot. It's not like you haven't been purposefully saying and doing things to see his tail wag, make his ears flicker and see him smile a little. You can't pretend to be shocked as you look at Jack for a response. "Well, I guess I should have been honest from the start..."

So there you are, resigned to be a pillow for the biggest cat you've had the misfortune of knowing. Leona loves your thighs and like hell he's going to pass up on your free period to get some sleep. You've accepted your fate, but your legs are just as comatose as he is. As you try to shift around, this catman actually whines in protest. Inside, he's praying you didn't hear it. "Stop moving," he manages to say.

So, Leona's imprinted on you. Now what? Well, you're gonna know quite quickly. Like, it's kind of not a secret since Leona is so shameless with everything he does. Though, he won't actually say "I've imprinted on you." His actions are all the confirmation you need. Actually, he's the most overbearing because he will just drag you away from whatever you're doing just to take a nap with him. Are you in the greenhouse for a class? Well, too fucking bad. Leona wants you to give him attention. You know. Like a cat.

"M'leg's asleep," you complain. "Plus you're heavy."

"Neither of these are my problem."

"You're literally responsible for both."

"You callin me fat?"

"...maybe I am," Leona opens one eye to glare up at you. He wants to be mad. But seeing you so pleased by his reaction makes him melt a little. "What? All you do is eat and sleep what else am I supposed to think?" To your surprise, he sits up. You're about to ask but he flops on top of you, sending you both into the soft patch of grass. Leona's spooning you and your face is buried in his fat (and kind of fuzzy) tits. "Seriously?!"

"Look, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that you're one of the few people I can tolerate."

He's a real piece of work, isn't he? Still, his body is kind of warm and cuddly, huh? He would probably get mad if you said that out loud though.

[sagesolsticewrites]

Kiss It Better (pt 2) 💋

That lipstick mark leads to a surprising turn of events 👀

a/n: Y’all didn’t think I was gonna leave it like that, did you? Ask and you shall receive: Kiss It Better pt 2! (Also! I’m having sooo much fun with these MOTA requests 🥹 feel free to send more in, or request other characters y’all think I should write for!)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Read pt 1 here!

Masterlist

You stopped into sickbay early the next morning, to catch up on paperwork.

The fact that you’d be able to see Buck was just a bonus; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But when you stepped inside, there was already someone sitting at Buck’s bedside.

“Bucky,” you sighed with relief once your surprise had faded, “Should’ve known you’d stop by sooner or later.”

“He’s gonna be okay, right?” Bucky asked, and you could just make out worry lining his face as you approached.

“He’ll be fine,” you assured him, “The scrapes will heal up in no time, and after a week or so of rest he should be cleared to fly again.”

“Good,” Bucky nodded, shoulders visibly relaxing, “That’s good. Now, uh…”

A smirk appeared on his face. “Wanna tell me what this is all about?”

He tapped his forehead, and after a moment of confusion glancing between him and Buck, your eyes finally landed on the bright red outline of your lips somehow still visible on Gale’s forehead.

You felt heat flood your face, and you were suddenly hyperaware of the same red lipstick that you had painstakingly applied only an hour earlier.

“Oh. Oh! That. Well, um…” You tried to look anywhere but at Bucky and his sleeping friend as you explained, “Buck was a little out of it when he was brought in yesterday, and when I was explaining the protocol for his head wound he asked me to, uh… kiss it better.”

You silently prayed for the ground to open up and swallow you as Bucky just barely held back a snicker.

Noticing how uncomfortable you were, however, he quickly said, “No, sweetheart, it’s not you, it’s just…”

Bucky shook his head, seemingly in exasperation, “Of course it took a head wound to get this guy to ask you for a kiss.”

Your mind seemed to have trouble processing this, and for a moment all you heard was ask you for a kiss before you were able to reply with a confused, “I’m sorry, I— what?”

Bucky let out a soft laugh.

“I was really hopin’ I could get him to tell you himself, but at this rate we’ll be well into old age before that happens, so…” He took a deep breath.

Sensing that you should probably be sitting down for whatever he was about to say, you perched on the edge of Buck’s cot, trying very hard not to think about the mere inches between the two of you.

“I don’t know how you haven’t seen it, but Buck’s been head over heels for you since the first day he saw you, sweetheart.”

“I— But he’s never—”

“He was always goin’ on about being worried what telling you might do to your friendship,” Bucky explained with a shrug, “That’s just how he is. Tends to keep things bottled up inside. But seein’ you two just dance around each other for the past three months has been absolute torture, so this is me puttin’ an end to my misery once and for all.”

Bucky stood, giving you a friendly pat on your knee, “Tell him how you feel, sweetheart. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

He left with a wink, a smile, and a quip about not getting too handsy — “This is a hospital! People are trying to heal!” — that left you blushing.

And just like that, you were left alone with a sleeping Gale Cleven.

Unsure what to do, you simply stared at him for a moment, taking him in. He was so… unguarded in his sleep, despite the scrapes and bruises, and your heart went soft at the lack of worry lines that seemed to be ever-present when he was awake. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through his dirty blond hair, still mussed from the battle and from sleep, instead choosing to run your fingertips over the slightly faded lipstick mark on his temple.

You just barely managed to stifle a gasp when he stirred, but it was too late.

“Y/N?” Your name slipped drowsily from his lips, and a small thrill ran through you at the sound— until he seemed to wake more and corrected himself hurriedly. “I mean, Nurse L/N, um. Good morning.”

“Good morning, Major,” you replied, once again falling back into the safety of professionalism.

There was a bit of an awkward silence, neither of you wanting to disrupt the rare quiet of an early morning on base.

Buck eventually cleared his throat, looking determinedly at his blanket and nowhere else as he spoke.

“Yesterday… After the battle’s a bit of a blur, but unless I’m misremembering I might’ve asked you to, uh…”

His hand drifted almost automatically up to his forehead, and you couldn’t help a small laugh as you tracked the movement.

“Kiss it better?” You asked teasingly, hoping to get ahead of the inevitable embarrassment, “You did.”

You couldn’t help your eyes flicking to the imprint of your lips on his forehead, and Buck, observant pilot that he was, noted it instantly.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

And here you were once again wishing the ground would open up and swallow you as you wordlessly handed Buck a small mirror from your pocket.

“Oh, you actually…” His face turned beet-red, and he scrambled to apologize; “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to— you know I would never—”

“Hey,” you lowered the mirror, gently removing it from his grasp so his focus was on you, “I know. You were a little out of it, it’s alright. And you never know, it might’ve helped.” You couldn’t help but add with a teasing grin before asking with genuine concern, “How are you feeling now?”

He seemed to take stock of his condition internally before answering “A bit better, all things considered. I’ve got a friend who’s one of the best nurses on base, y’know.”

“Please, Major, I’m just doing my job,” you replied, avoiding his gaze as you waved away the compliment.

“No, really. I honestly—” He seemed to steel himself for something, his expression as he took a deep breath not unlike when they were called for a mission — pure determination.

“It got… pretty bad up there yesterday. And at first I was thinkin’… as long as we get the mission done, and the other boys get home safe, I don’t particularly care what happens to me. And then…” His fingertips edged towards yours, just as they had yesterday, “I got to thinking about you. About wanting to make it back to you, to tell you I—”

His voice faltered as his soft blue gaze met your own, and there was a beat of silence. Your own eyes were welling up with tears, but you blinked them back as best you could.

“Buck…”

You couldn’t quite form the words, so you decided to show him that you knew exactly what he was trying to say.

Taking his face in your hands, mindful of his head wound, you pressed your lips to his as gently as you could.

He froze, and for a moment you thought you’d made a horrible mistake. Was Bucky wrong? Was this his idea of a joke?

But then Gale was sitting up, leaning into you, pressing his lips to yours with a fierce tenderness. One scarred, callused hand came up to cup your cheek while the other — Gale Cleven, ever the gentleman — rested just above your waist, pulling you closer.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there in that small bubble of bliss. It felt like an eternity that ended all too soon as the two of you parted for air.

“I never thought—” Buck let out a soft laugh, almost in disbelief, his nose brushing against yours, “I mean, I loved being your friend, but…”

“This is probably a good time to tell you that I’ve been absolutely head over heels for you since the moment we met,” you said, fighting back a blush.

“Finally!” A familiar voice came from the entrance to the hospital, “Only took you three months, but I’m happy for you two—”

You buried your face in Buck’s neck as he tossed a pillow at Bucky.

“Get outta here, Bucky, I’m trying to have a moment with my girl!” He called good-naturedly.

“I want all the details later!” He called back as he retreated to the safety of the hallway, “Congrats, sweetheart!”

You assumed that last part was aimed at you, but you were preoccupied with a different pair of words.

“Your girl, huh?” You said, meeting Gale’s gaze with a shy smile.

“Yeah,” he grins down at you, the scars doing nothing to diminish the joy on his face, “That is, uh… if you want.”

You briefly pressed your lips to his once again, the smile on your face all the answer he needed.

Pulling back to take in his smiling face, an idea came to you.

You leaned up to press a kiss right where the stain of your lipstick was still visible on his forehead.

Then again to the scar just between his eyebrows.

And again to the bruise just below his right eye.

You scattered kisses across all the scrapes, scratches, and bruises on his face. Buck spoke up as you pressed kisses to a series of shallow scrapes along his jaw.

“Not that I don’t, uh…” he began in a slightly strangled voice, “really like this, doll, but what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” You said, pulling away to meet his gaze for a moment before you pressed your lips to a scratch on the bridge of his nose, “I’m kissing it better.”

Buck let out the loudest, fondest laugh you’d ever heard from him, and your heart felt like it filled with pure sunshine at the sound.

“I knew there was a reason you were my favorite nurse,” he grinned, pulling you in for yet another tender kiss.

Buck our beloved 🥰 This was so much fun to write, I hope y’all enjoyed! 😊 Tagging a couple friends just for fun 🤍: @sassy-ahsoka-tano @mpmarypoppins @austinbutlermischief @austin-butlers-gf @dontbesussis

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 1

When your younger sister is tricked into selling herself to the Doll House, you rush there to help her, only to find her being led away by her trainer, Choso. Moved by your desire to save your sister, he convinces the owner to let you take her place.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Choso’s. I’m keeping the tag list from previous parts. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. FemDom. Sub Choso. Oral sex. Foot kissing. Divider by @benkeibear!

Your phone won’t stop buzzing. Even with the sound turned off, it’s making a racket in your bag, disturbing the important meeting you’re in. With a sigh, you slip it out to look at the Lock Screen. Your younger sister has sent you several messages. Wondering what kind of trouble she’s gotten herself into this time, you tap the latest message to open all of them. 

“Sis, I need your help! It’s an emergency!!!!”

“Yosaku is in trouble with his dad. He needs money right now or the old man’s gonna kill him!!”

“We’re at the Doll House. Yosaku says he’ll win big at the next race and buy out my contract.”

“Guess I’m a doll now! Why won’t you answer me?! This is important!!!”

“The owner went to find a trainer for me. God, I hope I don’t get the BDSM guy!”

“Sis, I’m scared!!! Yosaku left and I don’t think he’s coming back!”

You clench the phone in your hand so hard, you almost break it. 

“Fucking Yosaku!” you shout, then notice the dozen pairs of eyes that all immediately shift to you. You’re so enraged that you forgot you’re in a meeting. You apologize and excuse yourself, quickly leaving the office building where you work and heading toward the Doll House.

Your sister has been dating the son of a small time Yakuza boss for a little over six months now, and the two bit wannabe gangster has already ruined her life. 

Before meeting Yosaku, your sister was always so sweet and never got into trouble. Despite only being four years older than her, you practically raised her. She’s the only family you have, and as such, you’re fiercely protective of her. 

So when she introduced you to Yosaku, six years her senior, good looking in a “bad boy” sort of way, and with a terrible personality, you knew he was bad news. The fact that they started dating almost immediately after she turned eighteen was a big red flag. It’s like he was waiting for her, like a vulture. 

She started getting into trouble within two weeks of meeting him. She got caught shoplifting items he instructed her to take (and he of course fled the scene when she was spotted). He got mad and ditched her in a dangerous part of town one night. He talked her into gambling away all her money. And a whole list of other things. Each time, you had to go and rescue her.  And each time, you begged her to dump him before he got her into real, serious trouble. 

Now she’s at the Doll House? Unbelievable! How could he convince her to give up ten years of her life for him?! You can only hope you make it there in time to stop the sale. 

When you barge in the front door, past a front desk with a startled receptionist, and into a large circular room, you find your sister. She’s being led away by a pale man with a strange hairstyle, and she looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“Stop!” you scream, rushing forward and ripping your sister’s arm out of the man’s hand. “Don’t touch my sister, you pervert!”

You don’t know a whole lot about the Doll system or the Doll House, but everyone knows the basics. The men here train women to be sex toys, usually with some bizarre fetish. A friend once told you a guy here makes his dolls crawl on the ground like a dog while wearing a butt plug. Unimaginable! 

The man looks at you, seeming confused. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not anyone suspicious. I’m just her trainer.”

You place yourself in front of your sister, blocking his view of her. “You think I’m gonna let you train her to do depraved… sex stuff? I won’t let you hurt her!”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he says, looking a little hurt himself that you would suggest such a thing. “My job is to prepare her to be a doll. I’m helping her.”

He seems so honest, but you can’t let yourself be fooled. “I don’t care what your job is. You can’t have my sister! Look at her, she’s just eighteen! She’s practically a baby! She’s still a virgin! You can’t turn her into-“

“Actually, sis, I’m not a virgin,” you hear your sister say behind you, making you wince. You assumed so, but it sucks to have it confirmed. Fucking Yosaku. 

You look at her over your shoulder. “That’s not important right now.” Then you turn back to the man. “Please, don’t take her. She’s the only family I have. She has her whole life ahead of her.”

The trainer’s face softens slightly, as if he feels bad for you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but she already signed the contract. There’s nothing I can do.”

“But there has to be some way out of this! Her lowlife boyfriend coerced her!”

“What’s going on in here?” a voice asks. 

All of you look over to see a silver haired woman standing just inside the room. She’s holding a silk fan in one hand, the breathless receptionist standing beside her. 

“Who are you?” you ask her. 

She flips a long braid over her shoulder. “I’m the owner of this establishment. And if you’re here to stop a sale, you’re too late. Unless you want to pay some rather punishing fees for breaking the contract.”

You narrow your eyes. “Just how much are these fees?”

The owner snaps her fingers, and the receptionist scurries to grab a pen and paper. The owner writes something on it and the receptionist presents it to you. She wasn’t kidding when she said they were punishing! You’d never be able to pay this back! Even with your pretty good job. Your sister’s credit would be ruined forever. And you’d have to work yourself to the bone and you’d probably still lose everything. 

Your mind races. Think! Think! There has to be a way out of this! An idea pops into your mind. A terrible one, but it’s the only one you have at the moment. 

“What if I take her place?” you ask. 

Your sister steps out from behind you to look you in the face. “Sis, no, this is my-“

“Just be quiet,” you hiss, using the sort of tone you took while caring for her as a child. The “angry mother” tone, she called it. She falls silent. 

The owner looks you up and down. “I don’t know… We’ve never done something like that before.”

You get down on your knees, looking up at the owner with a pleading expression. “Please! My sister is young and naive. She can’t handle life as a doll. But I can! As the older sister, it’s my responsibility to protect her!”

Beside the owner, the trainer’s eyes widen. Then, suddenly, he moves over and gets down to his knees right next to you, bowing his head low. 

“I’m asking as well,” he says to the owner, shocking you. “Out of respect for her wanting to protect her sister, could you let them trade places? The older sister would be more suited to my training anyway.”

The owner looks slightly flustered to be met with such old fashioned, formal pleas. But she sighs and says, “Alright, I’ll go get the paperwork fixed up.”

As she walks away, the trainer stands up, then offers you his hand. Still somewhat in shock, you take it and let him help you up. 

“Thanks,” you tell him. “But why did you help me?”

He gives you a subtle smile. “I understand wanting to protect a younger sibling. I have a little brother I would do anything for.”

Wow, he’s actually pretty cute… for a sex crazed pervert. It just now occurs to you that he’s going to be your trainer now. This cute guy is going to be doing all sorts of depraved things to you! 

Your sister hugs you suddenly, her face wet with tears. “You didn’t have to do that! This was my problem!”

You pull away from her and stroke her hair. “Yes, I did have to do this. Just promise me one thing: that you’ll stay away from Yosaku. He’s dangerous! The next time he gets you into trouble, I won’t be there to help. Don’t make what I’m doing be for nothing.”

Your sister nods. “I promise! I’m all done with him!”

After reading over and signing all the paperwork, you and your sister say your goodbyes. Then you turn to your trainer and say. “Well, I’m all yours.”

He reaches out and gently takes your hand, then leads you down a hallway. He actually seems… sweet? You can’t imagine him doing perverted things to you. But he is a trainer here. Sooner or later, this man is going to have sex with you. You’re not some blushing virgin, but the thought still makes you a little embarrassed. 

Once inside his room, he shuts the door behind the two of you. His room looks surprisingly neat, clean, and comfortable. No crazy props or weird toys hanging on the walls. Thank goodness. 

“Feel free to sit down,” he says, gesturing toward a pair of chairs on either side of a small table. 

You walk over and take a seat, watching him a bit warily. You still don’t know what kind of fetish he specializes in. 

“I’ll tell you about my training,” he says, as if he can read your mind. You sit up straight in the chair to listen as he goes on. “I train women to be Doms. Dominant. I will call you Mistress. My name is Choso but you can call me whatever you like. I will do anything you tell me to. For the next six weeks, I belong to you. Oh, before you ask, I can’t get you out of the contract. That’s up to the owner, not me.”

Wait. What? He’s training you to be a Dom? You’ve heard the term before, but it conjures up an image of a woman in a black leather corset, cracking a whip. You’re supposed to do that stuff with him? 

“So, you’ll do anything I ask?”

He nods. “As long as it doesn’t violate any of the house rules, and is within my power.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. But you’re not naive. You know this is supposed to lead to things of a sexual nature. This is the Doll House after all. But at least you’ll probably get to do things at your own pace. You feel yourself relaxing slightly. 

“Can you get me a cup of coffee?” you ask, curious to see how he responds. 

“Of course, Mistress. How would you like it?”

“Hot. Heavy on the cream, no sugar.”

He gives you a small bow of his head. “Right away, Mistress.”

You watch him leave the room, then exhale deeply. Why does any doll trained by him ever do any of the sex stuff? Why not just make him rub your feet and bring you snacks for six weeks? You suppose that would defeat the purpose of being trained. What was it he called it? Preparing you to be a doll? Whoever your owner ends up being, he’s definitely going to expect some sex stuff. 

But do you have to initiate it? Command Choso to sleep with you? You can’t imagine doing that. 

He walks back in with a steaming cup and reaches it to you as if he’s a butler. You glance up at him, and you think he’d look really good in a butler uniform. 

You noticed it before, but he’s really cute. He’s like a quiet goth guy without the piercings. His hair is styled into two short ponytails, one on either side of his head. It’s not a style you’ve seen before, but it looks good on him. His clothes are a bit baggy, making you curious about what’s under them. 

The coffee is delicious, and Choso watches you drink it silently. After you sit the cup down, he asks, “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

You think for a moment. “You’ll do anything? Even if it’s something embarrassing or demeaning?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

You frown. “I don’t know. It seems wrong to force you to do things.”

A gentle smile appears on his face. “If you’re concerned about consent, please don’t worry. I work here voluntarily because I like doing stuff like this. I’m happy to do anything you want. No matter what it is.”

There’s an eagerness in his voice that makes your heart beat fast. You take a deep breath and say, “Kiss my foot!”

You really just want to test whether he’ll actually do anything you say or not, and this seems like a relatively tame command. Actually it’s not sexual at all. 

Or so you think, until Choso gracefully drops to his knees in front of you and, oh so gently, removes your high heeled shoe from your right foot. Then his hands move to your thigh, sliding just under your skirt. You start to yell at him, but then you realize he’s pulling your stocking down, slowly sliding it down your leg and off your foot. 

His eyes lock onto yours as he carefully lifts your foot up in his hand, holding it up close to his face. He licks his lips, then presses them softly to the top of your foot as his hand caresses your ankle. 

Oh wow. Okay, you kind of get how this all turns sexual. Choso on his knees in front of you, so eager to please, is doing things to you. 

He stands back up, the tiniest hint of a grin on his pale face. He knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t be a very good trainer if he didn’t. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do, Mistress?”

Your heart is racing. You feel your face heating up. Fuck, did he just seduce you with a single kiss to your foot? You cough awkwardly and look away from his pretty face. 

“I’m not sure what else to make you do,” you say, then quickly add, “What would you do if I told you to strip?”

He instantly begins pulling his loose fitting shirt over his head. 

“Wait! I wasn’t serious! I was just messing around!” you yell, but his shirt is already off, dangling from his hand. Your eyes drink in his well defined torso, surprised by how toned he is. A cute face and a hot body? Plus he’s sweet and gentle? Is this guy the total package or what? 

You shake your head. You can’t let yourself fall for him. He’s your trainer. He’s done this same stuff, and much more, with lots of other women. And besides, in six weeks you’ll belong to someone else. You just hope whoever that is has half of Choso’s charm. 

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I thought you wanted me to undress,” he says, pulling his shirt back on. Why does he sound a little disappointed? 

Now you really want to see what he’s packing beneath those baggy pants, but you can’t bring yourself to command him to show you. Not so soon after meeting him anyway. 

“It’s my fault,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He smiles at you. It’s a very warm expression. “Please don’t worry about it, Mistress. I’m here to please you.”

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

Choso watches his new doll as she stands up and looks around the room. This will be her room for the next six weeks, so it’s good for her to familiarize herself with it. 

“Can I go get some of my things from home?” she asks. 

“Yes. You can leave the house so long as you come back by nightfall. That’s one of the house rules. If you go out at night, I have to go with you.”

She looks at her watch. “I guess I’ll just go tomorrow,” she says. “So what do we do for dinner?”

“There’s a dining hall where we all usually eat our meals,” he tells her, then goes on to explain what times meals are served and tells her about the small shared kitchen. He goes over some more house rules and also warns her that the other trainers all have their own styles, so she shouldn’t be surprised to see naked dolls or dolls in strange outfits.

She seems to be taking it all in fairly well. 

For dinner, she opts to stay in his room while he fetches plates, saying she isn’t quite ready to meet everyone else. She also tells him to eat at the small table in his room with her. Some dolls, perhaps angry about being dolls in the first place, order him to sit on the floor and eat. It doesn’t bother Choso, but he does think his new doll seems nice so far. 

“So you have a little brother?” she asks over dinner. 

He looks up from his plate, somewhat surprised. Some dolls ask a few basic questions at first, just to get to know him a little, but this one managed to get straight to his favorite topic. He smiles and says, “Yes. His name is Yuji.”

Her face looks kind, pretty, as she asks, “How old is he?”

“Nine,” he answers. “He’s a very energetic child, but he’s very sweet.”

She’s smiling, perhaps thinking of her sister. “He sounds adorable. Do you get to spend much time with him?”

Choso lowers his eyes to his food. “Not as much as I like. We only share one parent, and both of his have died. He lives with his grandfather now. I visit him as much as I can, and he visits me here occasionally. Oh, don’t worry, he doesn’t understand what I do here.”

They talk for a while longer, Choso eventually getting his phone and showing her pictures of Yuji. And he almost forgets, for a few moments, that she’s a doll and he’s her trainer. For those few moments, they’re just two older siblings smiling and talking. 

When night falls, Choso goes to take a shower. When he steps out, dressed in cozy sweats with his wet hair grazing his shoulders, his doll looks at him strangely. 

“Is something wrong?” he asks her, drying his hair with a towel. 

She blinks then averts her eyes. “No, nothing’s wrong,” she says, looking a little embarrassed before adding, “You look nice with your hair down.”

His doll decides to sleep in her clothes tonight, refusing his offer to wear something of his. And when it’s time to go to bed, he asks, “Where would you like me to sleep, Mistress?”

She wears a puzzled expression. “Uh, the bed?”

“Most dolls tell me not to sleep in the bed with them on the first night. I suppose they’re nervous, me being a stranger to them.”

She shrugs. “It’s your bed. It wouldn’t be right to force you out of it. Just don’t touch me and it’ll be fine.”

He stares at her. “You trust me already?”

She smiles as she climbs into his bed, staying on one side. “I think anyone who loves his little brother as much as you love Yuji can’t be a bad person.”

Choso feels his heart skip a beat, but he keeps his face neutral as he gets into bed, keeping a respectful distance from his doll. 

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

Two days later, you find yourself sitting in a chair in Choso’s room. He’s standing nearby, waiting for you to tell him to do something. These past couple of days, you’ve had him give you foot rubs, massage your shoulders, and brush your hair. All things pointedly not sexual. But in every case, Choso has made innocent actions seem incredibly sensual. 

The way his hands touch you, the way his eyes look at you with desire, they make you want to order him to fuck you right now. But you can’t do that. You’ve been trying to think of a way to make the orders you give him more sexy, but it’s difficult for you to just tell a man you barely know to start doing sexy things to you. 

You thought he was supposed to teach you how to be a Dom, but when you said that, he replied with, “It’s much better to just learn by experiencing things. So please tell me what you want me to do.”

Which was no help at all. You’re starting to think Choso isn’t a very good teacher. 

If he would just tell you what he wants, what he’d like for you to order him to do, this would be far less awkward! 

Wait. That might work!

“Choso,” you say, and he seems to perk up a bit at the sound of his name. “If you could pick one thing for me to tell you to do, what would it be?”

He smiles mildly. “I’d love to do anything you tell me to do, Mistress.”

“No. Give me a real, honest answer. This is an order from your Mistress. What would you most want to be ordered to do right now?”

He looks at you for a moment, then his eyes seem to get darker, a very slight pink flush to his cheeks. “What I’d most like to be ordered to do,” he says, keeping eye contact with you, “is to pleasure you with my mouth. To get on my knees in front of you while you spread your legs and stand over me, to taste you, to use my tongue to make you cum, over and over, until your legs give out.”

Oh shit. Are you seriously already wet just from hearing him talk about eating you out? There’s a hunger in his eyes, and you feel heat creeping across your face, your breaths quickening. Just imagining his pretty face buried between your thighs is making you horny as hell. 

“Okay then,” you say, standing up and trying to keep your voice steady, trying to sound confident and in charge even though you feel like you’re about to melt into a puddle of goo, “do it. Pleasure me… with your mouth.”

The way his cute, pale face lights up! He drops to his knees on the spot, and slowly crawls over to you. When he reaches you, he puts his hands on your thighs and carefully slides your skirt down, looking you in the eyes as he does it. 

“Mistress, may I please remove your panties?” he asks. 

You feel like you can barely breathe as you nod and say, “Yes, you may.”

His gentle hands rub upwards, until they reach the top of your lace panties, and then he eases them down your legs, helping you to step out of them once they reach the floor. This leaves you standing in his room, naked from the waist down, while he kneels in front of you. 

“Mistress, can you spread your legs?”

You feel your face burning as you move your feet further apart, giving him an eye full of your dripping pussy. He looks at it, then at your face, then licks his lips as if he’s about to dig into a tasty meal. 

And boy does he dig in! He runs his tongue up your slit, collecting any juices he can, then uses his fingers to open your folds. He takes a moment to look at your most private place, then says, “You’re beautiful, Mistress,” before slowly licking your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, then his lips wrap around it, and you can almost hear him slurping at your wetness. 

You look down at his face, only the top half visible, and his eyes shift up to yours. They’re half lidded, looking at you through his long eyelashes. 

As he makes out with your pussy, licking and kissing it so sweetly, taking his time, your legs begin to tremble. The pleasure is simply too much. You’ve been eaten out before, but never like this, never as if your clit is the most delicious thing on earth. 

“Ahh… Choso… I can’t…”

He pauses and glances up. “Are you alright, Mistress?”

“Y-yes, just… don’t stop, even if I tell you to. Not until I collapse,” you say, feeling slightly delirious. Did you really just say that?

“Of course, Mistress,” he says, then returns to devouring you. 

Your hands move to his head, and you find yourself pulling the ponytails free and letting his hair loose. Then you’re gripping it, hopefully not hard enough to hurt. You hear him utter a quiet moan, and the vibration of his voice against your clit as his lips suckle it gently sends you over the edge. 

You cry out, your hands tightening in his hair, your legs shaking and nearly giving way right then and there. His hands move around to your thighs and ass, holding you steady while his tongue laps up any fluids that leak out. You’re quivering, your clit extra sensitive and swollen after your orgasm, and that’s when his wet tongue glides over it again, pushing the hood even further back. 

“W-wait! Oh God… oh fuck!”

Your body jerks, your legs turning into spaghetti as another orgasm hits you within minutes of the first. Choso’s grip on your body is firm, keeping you from crumbling. His lips and tongue are still working at your clit, moving at a faster pace now, making you shudder and moan. 

“Choso… I can’t stand it… feels too good… I can’t…. I can’t…”

His mouth is relentless, pushing you right back to the edge. You know you must be pulling his hair too hard, but you have to grip something or you’ll fall apart. Then, you feel his teeth lightly scrape over your sensitive, overstimulated bud, and you inhale sharply, nearly choking on the air as you cum for the third time. 

It feels like your body is dissolving as all strength leaves you. Choso catches you in his arms and eases you down to the carpeted floor, cradling you. 

“Are you alright, Mistress?” he asks, his lips glistening with your juices. 

You’re still twitching, clutching his arms as you ride out the aftershocks of the three most intense orgasms of your life. You can’t speak, so you just nod to answer him. 

He holds you until you’re able to stand up with his help, then he helps you clean up before tucking you into bed. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says, and you nod as he goes into the bathroom. You didn’t mention it, but when he was holding you on the floor, your upper half in his lap, you felt a rather impressive erection through his loose pants. You thought about doing something about it, but your mind was a little too hazy at that point. Oh well, you’re certain you’ll get plenty of chances to pleasure him as well. 

You never imagined being a doll before all this, and you’re still angry that things turned out this way, but at least you have Choso as your trainer. You don’t know how things will turn out, who will end up owning you, but at least for now, the situation isn’t too bad. So you fall asleep to the sound of the water running in the shower, knowing Choso will be sleeping beside you again tonight.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii @fvsm4x @tyunhyukamyloves @rottmntrulesall

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 2)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: life on the run is not for the weak. you're reminded of this once you run into someone you haven't seen in a while

warnings: a lot of angst (there'll be fluff and smut soon i swear i just feel like writing angst right now lmao), HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, mentions and descriptions of blood and injuries, this is so against canon its insane

word count: 2.2k

notes: ok so i changed my mind, miguel and the reader arent gonna make up just yet🤭. trust me when they do it'll be worth it lmao. im gonna need everyone to suspend their belief for the next chapters cause im kind of just making up the plot to beyond the spider-verse at this point for this silly little fic so just go with it

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God, this was very quickly turning out to be a very bad decision. The movies made being on the run seem a lot easier than this. What they had failed to include was how easily it was to get ambushed by Spider-Society members while hopping between the dimensions looking for Miles. Your little group basically had to hop through a bunch of different dimensions within a week and look for him there, then leave before HQ managed to track you guys down. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you left. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe a few months. The passage of time was pretty weird when you were constantly hopping through the fabric of space and time. All you knew is that your eyes had naturally dulled out the neon orange light that shined from the portals you were constantly jumping through. Luckily, none of your team had been caught yet. There had been a few close calls, but only two of those led to severe injuries, one of them being Gwen, and the other time being you.

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You and your team had been ambushed due to a malfunction with the portal opening. Each of you were put with your own variant to fight. Just to your luck, you were confronted by Jess. She looked awful to be honest. Stressed. She was probably put on finding you and your team while Miguel endlessly searched for Miles. This little wild goose chase had tired her out. Part of you felt bad. But that was very quickly overcome by the feeling of betrayal growing in your chest. You had a feeling she felt a similar way. “Please don’t make me do this. Just let me take you home,” she said weakly. Home. That’s right. That's basically what HQ had been to you before. You hadn’t been back to your Earth in five years, ever since Miguel caught you on the top of that building. Jessica was your first friend there. She had shown you the ropes to everything, been there for you during your lowest moments, and guided you to your highest ones. And now you had to repay her by sending her back to Miguel in a bloody pulp. You hated that this is how things had to go. But such was life for someone like you. “I have no home anymore,” you said at her monotonically before charging at her with your fists first. She’s quick to react, using one of her webs to swing away. It’s clear she doesn’t want to hurt you, each of her movements swift to defend herself, but never going on the offensive side. She could easily take you down if she wanted to. She had been doing this longer than you had and was more skilled than you too. She was going easy on you, desperately trying to show you she didn’t want to fight. But you didn’t care. You had put too much on the line to start to give up now.

The others had taken down their foes long before you had finished with Jess. You could see Gwen running up to you out of the corner of your eye, Ben tied up in a web behind her. You webbed her to the floor before she could get closer to the struggle you and Jess were currently in. You gave Gwen a quick, reassuring nod that she returned before running off to find the others. Once Gwen was out of sight, you quickly attached a web to Jess’ face, and pulled it down into your knee, knocking her glasses off her face and shattering on the floor. With her off her balance, you took the opportunity to try to knock her out. You slammed your fists into her face, one after the other, releasing all of the stress that had accumulated in your body over the past couple of months into her cheeks. You couldn’t see the damage you were doing, blinded by rage and betrayal and your fists blocking out her face. The only thing you could see was the blood splattering off of her face onto yours. You felt a voice in the back of your head begging you to stop. You desperately wanted to, but you had lost control of your body. Jess wasn’t the real person you wanted to hurt here, you already knew who that was. But she was the closest thing you could get to him right now. And if you were being honest with yourself, she wasn’t completely innocent to you either.

In her last desperate attempt to save herself, Jess shoved her forearm in the way of your balled up knuckles, grabbed a piece of shattered glass from her broken frames, and shoved it deep into your chest. Your reign of fury on her face suddenly stopped as pain quickly snapped through your body. You quickly fell to your knees, partially out of shock, and looked down to see the blood spilling out of your chest. As Jess dropped to her knees as well, you could finally get a gauge of the damage you’ve done. You couldn’t tell if the blood loss was making you see things, but her nose looked almost crooked, a dark cut slicing through the middle of it and blood pouring out of both nostrils. Both of her eyes were swollen, not entirely shut but on their way there. You looked down at your hands, the skin on your knuckles broken off and bleeding through the fabric of your suit, blending in with its natural red. They were trembling with a mixture of faded anger and new guilt. I never wanted to hurt her, you kept repeating to yourself in your head, as if it was going to make any difference. Maybe if you thought it hard enough, it would erase your actions. You suddenly flinched when you felt Jessica’s hand cupping your face. You looked up at her, mouth agape. Her soft thumb brushed your face as she stared lovingly at your face. So she did know. That made you feel a little less stupid when you broke down in front of her then and there. You just felt awful. Jess was your friend. Your best friend probably. And look at what you’ve done to her. You couldn’t understand how she managed to still be so soft with you, despite how much you’ve just mutilated her face. 

It was ever harder for you to understand how quickly she enveloped you as soon as she saw the tears begin to streak her face. You didn’t deserve this. You should run away. You need to run away. You’re currently bleeding out, and you’re just sitting here, sobbing into the crook of her neck. She’s probably just stalling for time and holding you here until help comes for her. But the longer you sat here the longer you realized…this was just her. It was only Jess here. No help was coming. Jess just wanted to hold you again one last time before letting you run away again. Once you pulled away from her, she wiped away your tears. “Don’t let me catch you,” she whispered into your ear. It was a reminder to you that while she was still holding onto her beliefs, that didn’t mean she ever stopped caring for you. She helped to push you up off of the ground, her hands now covered in your blood. You began to walk away out of  the dark alley to look for the others. Before leaving entirely, you turned around to look at Jess, still laying there. “I’ll find you once this is all over. So don’t you dare die on me, okay?” you shouted at her. She gave a simple nod in return, watching as you stumbled out of alley way. While you made the ultimate decision to let her live that day, you still had anger boiling up in your body. Somebody had to pay for all of this. All of this chaos that was about to unleash itself onto the multiverse. And you know exactly who did. And you didn’t intend to show him the same mercy you showed Jess. No. This was a job you intended to finish. 

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Thankfully, your chest laceration healed up quicker than expected, allowing you and your teammates to get back on track. Images of your encounter with Jess replayed through your mind for the next couple of weeks. The only other person you told about the details of your brutalization of Jess was Peter B., knowing he would understand with all the hard decisions he’s had to make himself. Gwen and Hobie had also noticed that you were acting a little bit off, but you avoided the subject every time they would bring it up. 

Suddenly though, it was happening. The moment you and your team had anticipated for the past couple of weeks. You were awoken by the bright glow of three orange portals opening up, three Spider-Men in each. Your team sprang awake and began to make a run for it. It was no use though, as one by one, each member of your team was separated by a different group of variants, until it was just you, Gwen, and Peter running. While you were running, you felt a hand yank at the hair on the back of your head. You quickly turned around and found Ben Reilly as the culprit. You didn’t hesitate to jump into the air and kick his face, pushing him off of you and onto the floor. As the three of you kept running, your attention was suddenly caught by something else. “Keep your hands off her! That one’s mine!” you heard the familiar voice call out to Ben. A chill went down your spine, as the three of you stopped dead in your tracks. You did it. You finally managed to lure the bat out of his cave. Before you could turn around and find the face that belonged to that deep, alluring voice, you were caught off guard as you felt a body dive into your stomach at full speed, knocking all of the air out of you lungs. The pure force of the dive pushed you and the figure into the brick wall of an abandoned building, crashing into the structure. 

Vision and hearing fuzzy from the impact, you heard Gwen scream out your name and begin to start running to you, before her and Peter B. get swept up by their own variants to take care of. Your head throbs in pain as you look around the building, feeling a huge weight on your chest. You look down at the rest of your body to find what’s weighing you down so much. And it’s him. Miguel’s massive body laying on top of you, his head dug into your stomach and arms wrapped around your waist from the dive. You were partially in shock. First of all, from the fact that your first interaction with him in months is him attempting to kill you (although it’d be a lie to say you weren’t thinking similar things). Second, you were still reeling from the blow. And third, the most shocking of all, was that this was arousing you in some way. Despite how much anger you were feeling towards him right now, you still managed to get butterflies in your stomach from how much of him was on top of you right now. He basically enveloped all of the lower half of your body. 

Shame and anger filled your body fast as you tried to push him off of you, any attempts in vain though due to how massive he was. He helped you though when he began to stand up, allowing you to get yourself up and dive through his legs as an escape. Just as you made your attempt to run out of the hole in the wall, away from a fight you know you couldn’t win, Miguel’s giant hand wrapped around your forearm. He pulled your body back to face him and slammed his massive fist into your face. Blood spurted out of your nose purely from the impact and you were nearly knocked onto the floor. You grabbed your nose in reaction and looked up at him towering over you, unable to make out his expression from his mask. “You must’ve been thinking about this encounter for a while. Have you been thinking about me, Miggy?” you quipped at him. Usually you spoke playfully with him whenever you were in a good mood with him, but this time it was your one desperate attempt to push down any feelings that would get in the way of you doing what needed to be done. “Don’t feel so flattered cariño. Whatever happens here isn’t personal,” he said in that deep, flirty tone you always found so sexy. But right now all it did was piss you off even more. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better,” you said, dropping the slight smirk you had on your face. Taking action right away, you charged right at him, ready to do it right this time. You just wished he had his mask off so you could look him dead straight in his crimson eyes as you killed him.

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NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: i had night shift by lucy dacus on loop while writing the fight with jessica....thats all ill say on the matter. also sorry miguel's barely in this chapter i need to set up plot and shit. ALSO I JUST WANNA PREFACE, MY FIC TAKES PLACE A COUPLE OF MONTHS AFTER ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SO JESS HAD ALREADY GIVEN BIRTH. I SWEAR Y/N DID NOT JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF A PREGNANT LADY💀💀💀

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[letsgetrowdy43]

Do first, think later—

Jack Hughes x Reader

Request: Jack’s gf finds out she’s pregnant but Jack doesn’t know how to process it at first. So she felt alone and decided to take a trip back home to Michigan to see family but Jack freaks out and flies out of NJ to see her

She and Jack had their fair share of pregnancy scares over the span of their relationship, no matter how careful they were there was always a chance and a moment of pure fear while staring at the time on their phones as they watched the negative sign slowly appear.

This time though, this time was different.

The symptoms were really strong, nausea was insane, her boobs had grown a cup size, and the food aversions were becoming intense. That's when Jack suggested maybe testing, just to stop the stress from building, fingers crossed that the tiny stick would show the answer they both wanted. But as that second line appeared both Y/n and Jack went down a spiral, her hands covering her mouth to stop the gasp that was bubbling up in her throat.

"Okay, we can-" the tears started as she looked up at her boyfriend who stared at the counter in shock. All of the colours drained from his face as he swallowed thickly, finally looking at her, "I need to go for a walk," he said making a bee-line for the front door. She cried quietly while following him to the door, disbelief filling the empty space between them as he ignored the pleas for him to stay, "Can we at least talk about this before you leave Jack?" "I need to leave, I'll be back," he promised, still not fully looking at her as he slipped on his sneakers and was out the front door.

He didn't return that night, or the next, finally on the third day, she finally got confirmation on where he was. She had called Jack multiple times, then she called Quinn, Ellen, Dawson, John, Jesper, and then finally she called Nico who answered immediately.

"Please tell me he's with you, if he's not I'm filing a missing persons report," she said desperately as he let out a sigh. "Yeah he's here, physically at least, he seems zoned out," Nico frowned as he peaked into the living room at the twenty-two-year-old who was quietly staring out the apartment window. a weight lifted off of her chest as she heard the words, "Okay good, at least he's safe."

"What happened? if you don't mind me asking," he asked, shutting his bedroom door so that Jack couldn't hear their conversation. Tears welled up in her eyes as she sat down on the edge of her and Jack's bed, surrounded by clothes and a suitcase, "I'm pregnant, and we thought it was just a scare, but it wasn't, and then he left." "Oh." "I'm really fucking scared Neeks," she cried as her hands wiped away the smudged mascara from her cheeks, "I'm going home to my parents, I don't want to be alone right now," she tried to find a strong voice but lost as she received the notification with the confirmation of her flight. "You do whatever you need, I'll make sure he's safe, you go and be with your family," he said as she whispered a thank you and hung up to finish her packing.

Within the next twenty-four hours the girl found herself in the Detroit airport, Quinn waited for her in the arrivals, pulling her into a hug as he helped her with her bags and led her to the family van.

"He's gonna come to his senses," Quinn said reassuringly as she cried in the passenger seat, her puffy face hiding in her hands as Quinn ran a hand over her back. "He disappeared when I needed him," she frowned. "Trust me, I am not excusing his actions, I'm so mad at him for doing that to you," livid was more the word he would use to describe it, his brother was a much better man than the one who abandoned his young, pregnant girlfriend, "he's more of a do now, think later kind of guy, you know that, he just needs time, and when he comes back to his senses he's gonna hate himself."

She knew it was true, there was never an action that Jack Hughes made that he didn't immediately cringe after. He lived a life of regret, and this was going to be one of those things in his life that he's gonna look back at and be disgusted at for the rest of his life.

"So are you going home to your parents or mine?" Quinn asked as he looked from the road to her. She frowned and thought for a second before she looked at him, "Probably yours, if you think your mom wouldn't mind, I don't think I can tell my mom and dad yet, not while I'm so panicked," she mumbled as the tears started back up again.

Quinn frowned, trying to think of something to say to take her mind off of his idiotic brother, "So I'm gonna be an uncle? I've always wanted a nephew... a niece would be pretty sweet too" The girl grinned at his dorkiness, "Yeah? I've always thought Jack would be a good girl-dad," she grinned as her hand slid down to touch her stomach, her eyes widened at the realization that she was going to be a mom.

Jack returned to their shared apartment the night she flew back to Michigan, his heartbeat in his ears as he searched the apartment for her, only to be met with an empty closet and a lack of her bubbly presence. He chewed his bottom lip nearly off as he did another search of the house, his head spinning with nerves as he stumbled upon a sticky note stuck to the fridge.

"I'm going home for a bit, please call me when you're home and safe, just need to hear your voice -- Y/n <;3"

His phone started ringing loudly, his shaky hands fishing it out of his pocket as he re-read the note over and over again.

"Hello?" "Why is your girlfriend asleep in your old bedroom, looking like the shell of herself, by herself? So help me Jack if you did something to upset that poor girl I will have your head," Ellen scolded over the phone, his body deflated at the sound of his mother's voice instead of Y/n's.

"I fucked up Mom, like so bad," he started, and so did the tears, "I left her here all alone when she really needed me, and I just walked out," he stated rambling, choking on tears as his breaths grew short. Ellen started to tear up at the sound of her son in such distress, "Honey, I need you to breathe, can you do that for me?" she asked as she heard his cries grow quieter on the other end.

"What did you do? I'm sure you can fix it." "She's pregnant, I'm gonna be a dad," Ellen's jaw dropped as she stood in the silence of the Hughes Lakehouse, looking over to Jim who stared at her with furrowed brows. "I'm gonna give you some advice Honey. You are going to get on a flight as soon as you can and fix this in person," Ellen said as she hung up the phone and left him to deal with the issue of his own.

Jim stared at her with a quirked eyebrow, "we are gonna be grandparents," she grinned as Jim choked on his coffee.

Less than twelve hours later, Jack was on the porch of his family's summer house, his heart beating at a fast pace as he stared at the door, trying to convince himself to open it. He took a deep breath and opened the door to be met with Luke who looked at him with a confused look, "you look like shit dude," he said as Jack rolled his eyed. "Thanks, much appreciated, where's Y/n?" "She's out in the back, she was sitting on the dock," Luke shrugged, unaware of all of the tension floating around the house.

She was exactly where Luke said she would be. Sat prettily at the edge of the dock, watching the sunset on the rippling water, a foot in the lake as she stared away numbly.

He stood at the shore, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched her, staring so peacefully, but looking so small, so unsure of herself. He hated that he did that, just as Quinn had suspected. Jack knew they could do it, they could be parents, but in the heat of the moment he wasn't so sure, and now it was leading to be the biggest regret of his life. Even with their young age, a family was everything he dreamed of, this just happened to be a few years earlier than his original plan.

She looked back at him, tears in her eyes as she ushered him to sit next to her, "Please stop just staring at me, it's making me nervous," she sadly joked as he walked over and sat down on the aged wood right next to her.

He stared at her as she watched the horizon, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she ignored his gaze, "I'm sorry, about it all," he frowned as she blinked away the tears in her eyes. Jack knew he was gonna need to say a lot more but the words were dying on the tip of his tongue as she ignored him some more.

"We are just so young, and the positive showed up and I just blanked and all of sudden I was in Nico's living room with a million missed calls from everyone and I realized that I'm going to be a Dad." The tears started as he reached out for her hand, she pulled away from his grasp, wiping away her own tears. "I came back to reality and realized that I fucking failed you, I've never hated myself more for something in my life, cause you're my person and I left you, and by extension, I left our baby and holy shit I'm the worst ever Y/n," she finally looked at him to see his face red and puffy, her hand reaching out for his now, "I'm so sorry, I don't think I will ever be able to say it enough times to make it right, but I hope you know how much I truly mean it."

The tears that rolled down her cheeks itched as she tried to calm herself down enough to form a coherent sentence, "I'm so mad at you right now." "I know baby," his hand reached out to tuck her bangs out of the way of her tear-stained cheeks. "You disappeared, and I was at home worrying myself ill, I almost called the authorities!" she gave him a very much-deserved scolding, as she curled up into a ball, knees pulled up to her chest as she let out a tired breath, "I can't even be mad at you either cause you were scared!" "No no, be mad, I hurt you" "I can't cause I feel the same way, I don't know how to be a mom, I'm twenty-one," she cried as he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her into his chest.

"We are gonna be great parents," he said, cupping her face in his hands as she cried, "You are so kind baby, and our baby is gonna be the most loved baby ever, and we can finally get that house in Hoboken we've been looking into," he started listing off all of the things to look forward to with this baby on the way, "we may be young, but there is no one out there that can be as compassionate and as kind as you, and you're about to be the hottest mom that's ever walked this earth," she blushed a bright red as she leaned into him.

"You're gonna be a good dad too," she said once she calmed down a bit, her lips pressing a short kiss to his shoulder. He grinned as his fingers intertwined with hers, "you think?" "I know you will be," she took his hand and placed it on her stomach, he leaned forward to capture her lips in a slow kiss, a mixture of passion and emergency filled their kisses as her hand wrapped around the back of his neck. He smiled into the kiss and pulled away with a grin, "your boobs grew," he smirked like a horny teenage boy as she rolled her eyes. "You're like a twelve-year-old," she smiled as he nipped at her jaw before pressing a kiss to it. "Suck it up, I'm your baby daddy," she grimaced at the term before he kissed her once again.

-

-

-

[reveluving]

Sweats nervously...

Erm..obesesive stalker! Graves x reader...🧍🏻‍♀️

Drops this and runs away

(headcanon by call.me.c0k3 on tiktok//)

WAIT COME BACK

WHO’S GONNA READ THIS THING I MADE NOW!!!!!!!!

Includes: mentions of s~mut; voyeurism, dubcon, mutual masturbation (minors DNI!), allusions to taking out those who wronged you, lovestruck!Graves takes it one step further in this one.

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Good news, we can go about this with both shy!reader or operator!reader wise. So, STRAP IN.

Generally, just know that he has the means to learn about you with a few clicks on his computer, and he will use that to his advantage. That doesn’t mean he won’t be able to catch every little bit about you just by talking to you, of course. No doubt he’ll learn more than enough surface-level information about you within the first five minutes of you talking. 

Way more than the average strangers meeting each other for the first time, only to forget the other’s name within days. Plus, the Phillip Graves knows how to talk, but this isn’t some lady he’s trying to sweet talk for the night and then be on his way hours later. No, those days are over, and he never particularly enjoyed them anyway. 

You, on the other hand, were a spice of life. The darling he never thought he’d find, the dream he had locked in the back of his mind years ago because he thought with how tainted the universe is, including himself, it was just false hope at this point.

So, for you to just suddenly appear before him, be it as the unassuming beaut next door or the stunning force to be reckoned with, oh, he is going to make sure you know that he’ll treat you the way you deserve.

Even if how he goes over them behind the scenes can be a little… extreme. 

He wants to make the best impression on you. Will he totally change his personality and appearance just for your approval? Well, no. If you find out the guy who’s been trying to impress you isn’t really being himself, then he knows it’ll be an immediate turn-off. 

And as excessive as the things he does may be, he also wants this to work. For the relationship to bloom, to flourish as best and as genuine as possible. He’s never cared for anyone like this since… ever! 

He knows the name of the guy, no, the kid that broke your heart years ago. Growing pissed the longer he read the conversation you had with your girlfriends, about his cheating and even fault you for his ‘last resort’, all because you had dreams to chase, priorities to focus on. 

Apparently, he’s now a big name in his town. Perfect. Nothing a little exposure of his company for money laundering and inhumane working conditions to the press couldn’t do the trick. 

Or in terms of the shy!reader, the bogus buyers who never paid you for the floral arrangement you made the entire day. Easy, he’ll just anonymously transfer all of their savings to charity or some pet shelters nearby. You adore pets, and those teens clearly didn’t need the money anyway. 

He made sure to take note each and every one of them, of anyone who wronged you for future reference. 

Other than private parts of your life, he enjoys scrolling through your social media; fixated on pictures that had you in it, even imagining future photos or videos you’d take together once you two get together. No matter how many people were in it or what it was about, his eyes go straight to your figure. Screenshots aren’t uncommon, either, especially cherishing the genuine joy in your face. 

Then, there are the things you love.

He knew you’d adore the things he bought for you, regardless of what suited your fancy, like dresses, lipsticks, books, random knick-knacks. Anything. He traced the history of you scrolling through the store’s website on your phone via his system, buying the ones you lingered on the longest. He knew you’d like the restaurant he brought you to on one of your dates, not necessarily because it was fancy, though that was the icing on the cake, but what made your eyes sparkle was the fact that it specialized in your preferred cuisine. There were the little things too; your favourite songs, how you prefer the cake from bakery A to bakery B because the latter’s more dry, or even the irresistible smile on your face whenever he looks over at you with an amused raise of his brow. 

Hell, even quirks that you never knew you had!

Then, there were the… nasty ones. Absolutely filthy.

The kinds where he wished he wasn’t just the tiny camera on your vanity table or the tampered lens on your phone when you tossed it to the side, frustrated as you tried to chase after the peak of your orgasm. Yearning to help you, to give you what you were aching for when your fingers, pillows or toys weren’t enough. He’s never been so frustrated, his cock pulsing in his hand for more, even if he was handling himself a bit rougher than usual as he watched your gorgeous body arch and thrash on the sheets. 

The tiniest last grain of shame he had vanished the second he heard you moan out his name, and oh, how the stars have aligned in his favour. 

If he wasn’t sure before, he sure as hell is about his ways now.  He’ll make sure he’s the man of your dreams, if not, better.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[writingwithciara]

party games -chris sturniolo-

summary: y/n’s best friend decides to throw a party and when he needs a partner for beer pong, he chooses her. a girl who’s never played the game or had a drop of alcohol in her life. what could possibly go wrong?

word count: 3.7k

pairing: chris sturniolo x bestfriend!reader

notes & warnings: in honor of the triplet's 21st birthday!!! iwrote this before they were 21, but i guess now it doesn't really matter. hope you guys enjoy this bit of self indulgence 😊 w: intended smut; intoxication; drugs; language of course

masterlist

when chris had his 'frat boy' era, he didn't understand why the fans were obsessed or why they labelled him as such.

of course parties can be fun. especially with the right people. but there's no need to constantly be throwing a party every night.

sure he enjoys the occasional party but he doesn’t throw them every weekend like some people assume he does.

he prefers to spend most of his time with his brothers and his best friend, y/n.

he met her randomly at a mcdonald’s when he and his brothers moved to los angeles and he thought she was incredibly nice. she ended up showing them around town the next day and ever since then, whenever they were free, they would hang out together. most of those times it was just them. and chris preferred it that way sometimes.

they’ve been friends for 4 years and within that time frame, chris has never seen y/n drink a drop of alcohol or do any kind of drug. she didn’t even smoke weed and chris always saw her as the most innocent person he’d ever met.

so when he decided to give into his ‘frat boy’ persona & throw a party, he had to beg her to come to it. he had a backup plan prepared in case she said no.

she was sitting in matt’s room, discussing strategies for a game they were both into, when chris barged in to propose his deal.

“i’m throwing a party. i want you both to attend it.”

“chris, do you really-“

“before you say no, like you always do, i’ve prepared a deal that neither of you could refuse.”

“okay. and what’s that?” matt sat up straight and stared expectantly at his brother. y/n mirrored his position.

“yeah. tell us this deal please.”

“it’s different for each of you.” chris smiled and turned to matt. “if you come to the party, i will take my driving test and as a bonus, i will not ask you to drive me anywhere for a month.”

“okay. what’s in it for y/n?”

“remember that really expensive taylor swift concert package you wanted?”

“of course. what about it?”

“i may or may not have bought it for you and i may or may not have planned to give it to you for your birthday.”

“did you?”

“if you come to the party, i’ll let you know.” he sighed. “please? you’re the most important person that needs to be there.”

“hey, i’m sitting right here.”

“you’re lucky i love you, chris.” y/n walked over to him. “whens the party?”

“4 hours from now. and don’t worry. you can get ready in my room. already got an outfit picked out for you.”

“you really put some thought into this, didn’t you?”

“i did. so, are you guys gonna come to the party?”

“for you, i’d do anything.” y/n smiled and walked out to the kitchen. chris watched her leave and matt chuckled.

“you’re lucky she loves you.” he smiled. “you should just tell her you love her too.”

“oh please. we’re as platonic as two people can get. she friend zoned me the first week of our friendship and i’ve never wanted to change it.”

“well i’m sensing a but coming in soon.”

“but" he dragged the word out and sighed. "these last 2 months have made me realize that she’s perfect for me, matt. she’s the right amount of innocent without being too innocent. and she’s funny and she gets along with nick. do you know how hard that is for people to do?”

“you’re right. it is difficult. but she’s a good person. you guys are so opposite.”

“yeah but that’s what makes us perfect.” chris smiled. “wait, hold on. did you just imply i’m not a good person?”

out in the kitchen, y/n was preparing a snack when nick entered the room.

“hey. did chris ask you to come to the party?”

“yeah he did.” y/n put the chips away and took the dip from the fridge. “do you know if he actually got the concert package or not?”

“i’m pretty sure he did. but you didn’t hear it from me.” nick popped a chip in his mouth and walked away. chris came out of matt’s room a second later and smiled when he saw y/n in the kitchen.

“hey. you can shower first if you want.”

“okay. i just want to finish my chips first.” y/n grabbed the last few chips and shoved them in her mouth. “okay. see you in 2 hours."

"2 hours?"

"yeah. i need that much time to make myself look good enough to be seen with you guys tonight."

"you could attend the party in ripped sweatpants and a baggy sweater and you'd still look better than anyone attending."

"awe, christopher. that was sweet." y/n smiled. "but i'm still gonna get all dressed up because when do i ever get the chance to do that?"

"fair point." he chuckled.

"thanks again for the invite." she kissed his cheek and ran down to his room to get ready.

by 9 o'clock, the party was in full swing. most people were already well into their 3rd or 4th drink at this point.

chris, however, had decided to pre-game after his shower and was already on his 6 drink. they were mostly shots but with someone like chris, it was easy to get drunk.

he was surrounded by a group of gorgeous girls. and it just so happened that he abandoned those girls when he saw y/n. she was holding a cup in her hand and looking around the room. she was alone so chris walked up to her.

"is there alcohol in that cup?"

"of course not." she sipped it slowly. "matt gave me some of his root beer. and don't worry. i watched him pour it and i haven't taken my eyes off the cup since."

"well that's good to know."

"so what just happened?"

"huh?"

"one second, you're surrounded by every girl at this party that anyone would categorize as 'your type' and the next, you're over here with me. what makes me so special?"

"i'd tell you, but then i'm afraid i would have to kill you." he put his finger to his lips and looked around. "hey, let's go play some beer pong."

"i don't drink, chris. you know that."

"then be my partner. i know you have really good aim and i could use someone like you as my partner." he pleaded. "i'll drink everything. i promise."

"i can't say no to you, can i?"

"no you can not." he smirked triumphantly and grabbed her hand. they hurried over to the table where someone was setting up the next round. "y/n and i call next round."

"are you sure about that, chrissy? i've never seen her even sip a single drop of alcohol. maybe i could be your partner." one of the girls from earlier batted her eyelashes at him seductively but he paid her no mind.

"alright. let's do this." chris eyed the cups and pointed to the one he wanted y/n to aim for. "let's get the hardest one out of the way first, hmm?" he whispered in her ear and she tossed the tiny ball. it spun around the rim of the cup before landing inside. "yes! i knew you could do it."

"thanks for having some faith in me, chris." she smiled up at him as the guy on the other end of the table downed the alcohol.

"let's see you go 2 for 2." he wiped his lips and y/n picked up another ball. she was about to aim for the front cup but chris leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"back corner cup. you can do this."

she didn't know why but the way his words came out of his mouth, did something to her. she watched as the ball bounced past the cup and sighed. "sorry, chris."

"it's okay. you're still doing great." he kissed the top of her head as the game continued.

they conquered the rest of the game and they were setting up for another round when y/n looked at chris.

"i think i want to try drinking."

"are you positive?"

"100%. it's not like i'm driving home tonight anyway. besides, i'm here with you so i'm the safest i could ever be."

"i won't let anything bad happen to you."

"i know." she smiled up at him with her innocent smile and he knew he needed to protect her at all costs.

they ended up losing game 2 but they wanted to participate in another one. at this point, y/n had downed 6 of the 10 cups so to say she was tipsy would be a bit of an understatement.

halfway through game 3, chris had to cut her off. he had been sobering up while she was drinking and the sight before him was ridiculous, but also funny.

chris intentionally lost the game and finished off the last cup. he grabbed y/n's hand and brought her down to his room.

"ooh, christopher. if you wanted me in your bed, you could've just asked." she giggled when the door was closed.

"i'm gonna get you some water. can you get changed for me?" chris looked at her and smiled when she nodded slowly. He went into his bathroom and grabbed a cup, filling it with water before venturing back to his room. y/n was in the middle of taking her shirt off when he entered the room. her movements became slow and it felt like she was putting on a show for him.

"like what you see, chrissy?"

"no." he swallowed hard. he in fact did like what he saw but she was drunk and it would be wrong to admit it. so he just looked back at her. "you need to get changed into something comfortable to sleep in, y/n/n."

"you're no fun." she pouted and continued to pull the shirt over her head. it somehow got stuck and she turned towards where she assumed chris was. "help, please?"

chris shook his head and approached her. he grabbed the piece of fabric carefully and pulled it over her head, replacing it with one of his new fresh love shirts. her jeans were a little easier to slide down her legs and chris replaced them with some of his old shorts.

"thank you, chris. you're the best." she mumbled as she snuggled deeper into the blankets. just as she was getting comfortable, her face twisted in disgust and she leaned over the edge of the bed. chris grabbed the garbage bin and held it underneath her while she emptied the contents of her stomach into it. he sat next to her and rubbed her back gently while holding her hair back. when she was finished, chris handed her a towel to wipe her lips and he used a damp one to wipe the sweat off her face.

"feeling better?"

"no. i feel like shit." she grumbled and moved to lay on her back. chris still sat on the edge of the bed, but this time, he had to turn his head a little to talk to her.

"i never should've let you drink." he sighed, adding a little chuckle at the end when y/n dramatically threw her arm over her face.

"yeah. what were you thinking, christopher?"

"i would've stopped you but your mind was set on it. and i'd like to think i know you well enough at this point to understand that when you're dead set on something, nothing can change your mind."

"i guess that's true." y/n sighed and closed her eyes. "thank you for being such a good friend, chris. i don't deserve you."

"more like i don't deserve you." chris chuckled and looked back at y/n to see her chest rising and falling slowly, signaling she was a brief moment away from falling asleep. "get some rest, princess. i'll see you in the morning." he moved her hair out of her face and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before slowly walking out of the room & rejoining the party.

matt eyed his brother as he walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "what? no more drinking?"

"oh, this is for y/n when she wakes up." chris smiled and passed the bottle between his hands casually. "i can't believe i let her drink so much."

"she's an adult, chris. she can make her own choices. you don't have to feel guilty for what happened or obligated to keep her from making mistakes."

"i know. but she's my best friend and i made myself a promise that i would never let anything bad happen to her."

"and so far, nothing bad has happened. you're doing a great job."

"thanks, matt. i really needed that reassurance." chris smiled again. "i hope you don't mind but i'm done with the party for the night. duty calls, you know."

"yeah. i get it. you've gotta take care of her. go on."

"i appreciate you." chris hugged his brother before heading back down to his room. y/n was tossing around on the bed as if she was having some sort of nightmare.

chris approached her and noticed her face was covered in sweat so he grabbed the wet cloth and ran it along her face. her movements slowed and her breathing went back to normal, satisfying chris. he placed the bottle on his nightstand and crawled into bed next to her. when y/n's arm landed on his chest, he stiffened up a bit but when he heard light snores coming from her, he just smiled to himself.

he was glad she felt safe around him but he knew he needed to tell her how he felt before it was too late.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

the morning came faster than chris had wanted. he couldn't get any sleep with y/n beside him. she spent a few hours just throwing up in the garbage and chris was there to take care of her each time. he wiped her face with a damp cloth and got her water when she needed it.

when her eyes fluttered open and she made eye contact with chris, she couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face.

"good morning." she whispered.

"good morning." chris smiled and moved the hair that was stuck to her forehead. "how are you feeling?"

"better than i was last night, but still shitty." she closed her eyes. "i'm sorry you had to take care of me all night instead of enjoying your own party. i feel bad you missed most of it."

"hey, don't feel bad. i will always take care of you, no matter what."

"but, your party-"

"it wasn't that important. not nearly as important to me as you are."

"do you....do you mean that?"

"of course." he smiled and played with her fingers.

"you know, even after 4 years, i will never understand why i'm so important to you." she replied shyly, avoiding eye contact with her best friend. "i mean, i'm nothing special."

"hey," he grabbed her chin gently and looked into her eyes. "you are incredibly special. don't sell yourself short, ma."

"t-thanks, chris." she looked into his eyes and before she knew it, she was leaning closer. just as their lips were about to touch, y/n ducked her head to the side and threw up in the garbage bin. chris held her hair back for her while she continued to empty her stomach. when she was finished, she wiped her mouth with the back if her hand. "oh my god. i'm so sorry, chris."

"it's alright. you don't have to apologize to me, ever." he smiled and wiped the sweat from her face again. "especially for something as normal as that."

"you're sweet, christopher." she closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. chris rubbed her shoulder and kissed her head. "how are you still single?"

he felt like saying "because i only want to be with you" but he kept his mouth shut. he didn't need to lose his best friend. he could've risked it but he didn't want to say anything until he knew how she felt. and he couldn't ask her in her current state. so he would just have to wait until she was better, no matter how long it took.

when he was sure y/n was fast asleep again, he gently moved her off his body and got out of bed. he went up to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for his brothers and y/n, since he knew they'd all have a hangover of some sort.

matt was the first one awake and when he entered the kitchen and saw chris cooking, he didn't even question it.

"good morning." chris greeted him happily.

"could you lower your voice a little, please?" matt rubbed his head slowly while he sat at the table. chris poured him a glass of water and set it down gently. "thank you."

"matt, can i tell you something?"

"yeah, of course." he sipped his water slowly.

"i almost kissed y/n earlier."

"oh my god. really? what happened?"

"our lips were like 2 inches from touching and then she ended up throwing up. but i may have messed our friendship up by almost kissing her."

"why do you say that?"

"it just feels like it. i don't know."

"look, you need to talk to her and tell her how you feel. the worst she can say is that she doesn't feel the same. but i doubt that outcome will happen because i guarantee that she has feelings for you."

"well, i won't be sure until i talk to her. and i plan on doing it after breakfast." chris heard his bedroom door shut and he finished plating the food. he set everyone's plates on the table just as nick and y/n came into the kitchen. "good morning."

"good morning." y/n sat at the table and looked at her plate. "this all looks delicious, chris. thank you."

"you're welcome." he sat across from her and everyone began eating.

breakfast was mostly silent, aside from the forks hitting the plates and the cups being set down on the table.

when everyone was done eating, chris went to clear the table by himself but y/n stopped him.

"let me help. it's the least i can do since you made breakfast and all." y/n smiled and carried half the dishes to the kitchen. she set them down in the sink and ran the water. "breakfast was delicious, chris. thanks again."

"no problem. figured you'd need some solid food in your system. hopefully you can keep it down."

"i'm sure i will." she smiled. "after all, i had a really good caretaker this morning."

"speaking of this morning, can we talk? you know, about the thing that almost happened?"

"yeah. um, sure. when do you want to talk about it?"

as y/n and chris talked in the kitchen, matt glanced over at them occasionally. nick noticed and raised his eyebrow.

"you good over there, bro?"

"yeah. i just really hope chris and y/n finally admit how they feel about each other. been rooting for them ever since that night we met her at mcdonald's." matt glanced back over towards the kitchen and noticed they were gone. "wow. they move fast."

"not fast enough." nick chuckled as he averted his attention back to the tv.

down in chris' bedroom, he was sitting on the edge of his bed with y/n beside him. she began to fidget with her fingers and chris instinctively reached over and held her hands gently.

"you know, you've been my best friend and favorite person for 4 years. and ever since the night we met at mcdonald's, i've been trying to figure out how you've had the patience to put up with me for so long. you are so incredible and an absolute angel, y/n. and i admire you so much. you have no idea how much you mean to me and i don't think there's enough time in the world for me to express just how strongly i feel about you." chris looked over at her and gently cupped her cheek. "you are so perfect."

"christopher owen sturniolo, you are unmatched. and i love you. so much more than you can ever imagine."

"if you hadn't gotten sick this morning, would you have followed through with the kiss?"

"absolutely." y/n smiled. "would you have followed through?"

"yes definitely. and even though you got sick, i still would've kissed you after."

"barf breath and everything?"

"i'd kiss you under any circumstance, y/n. i love you."

"i love you too." y/n smiled and ran her hand through his hair, bringing his lips down to hers. she smiled into the kiss and chris held her close.

"i'm going to take you on a proper date tomorrow night." chris smiled widely. "Wait, hold on. i actually have something you might prefer."

"something else i'd prefer over a date with you? i doubt it."

"oh but this is better. trust me." chris got up and walked to his closet. he pulled out a medium sized gift box and handed it to her. "i wanted to give this to you on your birthday but since it's this weekend, i think now's a better time to give it to you."

y/n opened the box and pulled out the special taylor swift vip concert package chris put together for her.

"chris, you didn't."

"oh but i did. a week from today, you'll be going to the taylor swift show in la and you'll be watching it from the front row. during the show, there's a surprise. then after the show, you'll be going backstage to meet her and spend some time with her."

"i love you so much, chris. you didn't have to do this." y/n had tears in her eyes and chris wiped them away.

"if anyone deserves this, it's you."

"i truly don't deserve you, christopher." she rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. "i'm so glad we met at mcdonald's that night."

"me too." chris smiled and kissed her softly.

they finally got what they both wanted and they couldn't be happier. and without mcdonald's & beer pong, they wouldn't be where they are now.

[pedropascalluv]

when you know, you know.- Finnick Odair

You and Finnick have always had a bond. It was undeniable. Many were jealous of the love you two shared as best friends, even if they always thought you two had something more going on you both denied it every time. Now that The Hunger Games are officially over, you and Finnick decided to stay around District 4 (Other than going to visit Peeta and Katniss) this was where you two grew up together, it was your home.  

The front door closes and you know exactly who it is as the footsteps get closer to my room and there he is giving you the big smile you love so much “You reading?” he lays next to you the smell of the sea becomes stronger “yup, did you catch anything?” you breathe in the salty aroma “Yes ma'am I did, how about we cook and then you can catch me up on your book?” you drop the book now staring at him “That's just about all we do”

“We live a simple life”

“That we do” he gets up 

“I’m gonna go take a quick shower”

“I’ll start preparing the food”

you decide to play music while you get started and because you did that you didn't hear Finnick coming up behind you, his hands moving to your waist "Can you not scare me when I have a knife in my hand, I will stab you." he laughs “you would never do such a thing” he grabs the knife in your hand placing it on the counter and bringing you close to his chest “Finn you know I’m a shit dancer don’t even try it” of course this doesn’t stop him, his hand resting on your lower back “come on just feel the song” you tried, you really did but feeling one hand moving the hair out of your face and the other was trailing up and down your back it was quite distracting 

“I love you” you smile squeezing his hand  “I love you too” his face is serious more serious than you've ever seen on him “No I love you in a way a best friend shouldn’t, you are my whole life and I’m sorry if this is a lot all the sudden but this war is finally over and I should’ve told you years ago but I- I didn’t want to lose you. I can’t keep acting like I’m not completely in love with you” You pause your head spinning as the grip on his hand has gotten even stronger.

 “You're in love with me?” 

“Yes” there was nothing but silence in the kitchen "I don’t know what I was-” he stops talking and starts to walk away but you grab his hand. 

 “You remember when we kissed right before I went into the games the second time?” he asks you nod the smile on your face not faltering “was that real, did you mean that or was it just a in the moment type thing? because I understand if it was” he was looking at the ground you cup his jaw his eyes meeting yours “It was real. I couldn’t even form a sentence sitting in that room with you. I didn't know how I was going to say goodbye to my best friend, the guy I've been in love with since I was a little kid. I knew you would go back into the games, and you might not be coming back. I couldn't lose you” his eyes glossy with tears threatening to escape “God I love you so much Finnick” Within a millisecond your lips were on his, the distant memory of when you first kissed him back when they announced that Finnick would go back in for the 3rd quarter quell the familiar feeling made you smile against his lips he pulled you away briefly his smile beaming back at you, he leans in your foreheads now touching 

“I love you more.”

“You are so competitive.”

“I am. And I always win” you roll your eyes at him 

“I take it back I don’t love you and your cocky ass.”

“No taking it back your stuck with me darling” he shrugs kissing your forehead "I love you more end of discussion" you say running to your room Finnick not far behind you go on the other side of your room he grabs you and throws you on the bed hitting you with a pillow you laugh covering your blushing face "I love you more" before you can say anything else he kisses you with more passion and hunger.

I guess when you know, you know.

-I might make more with Finnick but I will be posting something about Sejanus from tbosas so get ready-

[fandomobbsessedb]

Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader

AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!

I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.

⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p

Reader is referred to with afab terms.

Pt2-

================================

• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.

• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.

•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?

“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…

“Welcome to Hell!!!”

“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.

“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.

“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…

“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”

“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”

“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…

“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.

“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.

“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“

SPLAT-

“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.

“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….

• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.

• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?

• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him

Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~

• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.

I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.

"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.

"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.

"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.

"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.

• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"

• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.

• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.

• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!

• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.

• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.

• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.

• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.

• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.

——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-

• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.

*knock knock knock*

*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*

"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.

"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.

"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.

"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.

"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.

Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.

"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-

"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-

*CRASH *

“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?

“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.

Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…

“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE

I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….

• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~

“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“

“Get her ba-“

“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“

• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER

REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE

[endlessthxxghts]

Tell Me More

no outbreak!neighbor!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈4.4k

Summary: Your house is finally empty for the first time in a long time, so you decide to get back in the groove of your witchy practices. Joel stumbles in during your meditation session, and he's intrigued to know more.

Warnings: Religious (Christianity/Catholicism) undertones/religious trauma - brief mention, but does affect reader. Talk of crystals, talk of Tarot cards. Mental health talk, my babies: depression mentions, allusions to wanting to give up in life. EXPLICIT/MATURE CONTENT, 18+ MDNI. Dom/sub dynamics - talks of being collared...getting collared (stfu I’m sobbing)🥲!! These knuckleheads are legit IN LOVE. Age gap. Established relationship. P in V sex. Use of daddy. Allusions to other sexual activity. Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I'm gonna preface this with the fact that this is entirely something I wrote because I was needing comfort. I do witchcraft. I love crystals, I do tarot readings, and all that jazz. Within the last year, I haven’t done much because I’ve been in a living situation in which I have to hide who I truly am. A few nights ago, I got to spend a few hours with someone who partakes in these practices, and I’ve never felt more alive in those two hours than I have in the last year. And I’ve been craving to feel that way again, but again, my living situation prevents me to do so. So, here I am, healing a part of myself through my writing. Even if you guys are unfamiliar in the whole aspect of witchcraft, I hope you guys can enjoy this from the aspect of finding a person who finally accepts you for all that you are. If this isn’t your cup of tea, no hate! Please just scroll away. All my love. Xoxo💚

ONESHOT COLLECTION || MAIN MASTERLIST

Part of What You Need universe! CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONE!

You told Joel a few hours ago that when he got off work to just let himself inside because you weren’t sure if you’d be having a nap or not. He knew the garage code and knew where the spare key was, anyway. 

So when he was greeted to an empty home at the end of his work day, he didn’t think anything of it. That is, until he entered your room and saw you, legs criss-crossed in the center of your bed, eyes closed, with rocks and playing cards scattered all around your bed, enveloping you in a makeshift circle. 

“Uh, baby?” immediately leaves his mouth as he stares, absolutely confused at the situation before him. 

Your eyes shoot open, not expecting to be in the presence of another human being right now, and a little squeak escapes you. “Oh! Baby! Almost gave me a heart attack,” you say with a light giggle. 

“What are you-” he gestures towards your bed as he walks closer to you, leaning over your bed to give you a chaste kiss, “-up to, darlin’?”

You’re absolutely radiating sunshine right now, and even though his confusion is still getting the best of him, he can’t help but feel giddy in your presence. “Oh, well,” you smile up at him, a hint of shyness in your voice, “I thought I’d take advantage of my family being out on their little vacation, so I wanted to take some time to meditate.” 

“Oh, okay,” he offers you a smile back, one like he understands exactly what you’re talking about even though the sentiment doesn’t reach his eyes. Usually you’d be shying away and scrambling to put your stuff away. But this is Joel you’re talking about here, and he just looks utterly confused. 

You raise your eyebrows slightly, prompting him to ask his question you know he’s dying to ask.

“And this meditatin’,” he says a little hesitantly, “you do it with, um.. with rocks?” 

Your hand flies to your mouth, a slapping sound echoing in the room, in an attempt to stifle your disbelief at his words. “Rocks?” you say perplexed. 

His cheeks heat up at your passionate reaction. “I-”

You scooch your bum over, gather everything on your bed and make some room over for Joel. You pat the space next to you, signaling for him to come over. He sits next to you, tucking one leg under him as the other hangs off the bed. 

You take his hand and hold it palm up, sliding one of the clusters in his palm. “These, my honey, are crystals,” you pause to think for a second. “Well, okay, yes, they’re rocks, BUT-”

His cheekbones raise in amusement. You’re caressing the crystal in his palm, eyes fixated on it as you speak. You think he’s looking at the crystal, but really he’s watching and loving just how passionate you are about this.

You continue on for a good fifteen minutes or so about what crystals are, what meanings they have, and you also mention what powerful properties they carry—whatever that means, he thinks to himself. In all his years of life, he has never heard of anything like this, nor would he ever get into something like this. 

“So, this ro-” you physically cringe at the word. He corrects himself. “This crystal,” he says, “it makes you sleepy?” 

He’s trying. And it makes you want to swallow him whole and never let him go. You think for a second, pondering the implications behind the crystals properties of the Amethyst crystal sitting in his palm. Inner peace. Rest. Relaxation. You smile to yourself at how Joel processes the information. Looking up into his eyes for the first time since your little tangent, “Yeah, baby, you’re getting it,” you say with a gentleness in your voice, the brightest of smiles on your face. 

Since he’s been with you, he has never seen you interact with any of this stuff before. It must be something you do on the down low, or something you rarely have a chance to indulge in. Whatever the case may be, the genuine light and happiness radiating off of you is addicting, and if it’s because of these things, he’ll gladly learn everything there is to know. 

He gently places the Amethyst down beside you, and picks up a light blue one, tower shaped. “This one magic, too?” 

Your eyes positively brighten, more than they are now. His heart beats stronger at the sight. You tell him the crystal he’s holding is called Celestite, and it helps with inner peace and is supposed to help guide you to a more divine consciousness when you meditate. He smiles with you, offering the occasional nod and grunt to signify he’s listening to you even though everything coming out of your mouth sounds like a foreign language to him. 

After the fifth round of him picking a crystal for you to explain, he opts for the cards sprawled all over your bed. “This… magic involves… card games?” He grimaces as the words leave his mouth, silently cursing himself for the insensitivity of his vocabulary. You stifle a laugh, knowing he didn’t mean it that way though, which is why you can’t help but pull him into a sweet kiss before you go on and explain. 

“What was that for?” He asks, cheeks reddened slightly. 

“Nothing, baby, I just love you.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead. “I love you, sweet girl. Now, tell me more about these not playing cards, please.”

Your cheeks hurt from all the smiles he’s been pulling from you. “Mhmm, so these are called tarot cards, my love.”

The next hour is spent with you explaining the cards, what they do, and what kind of things people use them for. Joel seems confused, weirded out, and impressed all in one. 

“Ain’t no way this lil thing answers my life questions,” he deadpans. 

“Okay, no it doesn’t give definite answers- these aren’t fortune tellers,” you say. He sees the gears turning in your head, trying to find a better way to explain to him. “They give advice or feedback…” you start. “They give guidance for the situation your current self is in. They aren’t meant to be taken like law or religion, but more so like if your friend was a therapist. They can give you advice, but not too much without crossing the patient-therapist threshold. Just tiny nudges in a potentially better direction.” 

Now it’s your turn to see the gears turning in his head. His smile slowly spreads the moment it actually clicks for him. “Oh, wait, that actually is makin’ sense to me,” he says a little more excited than usual. He places kisses on your forehead, cheek, and lips, trying to place his excitement somewhere. You laugh in his embrace. You’re beyond excited that the most important person in your life is open to something so unconventional, so taboo. 

For years, you’ve had to hide this little part of you for fear of your family shunning you. They’d kick you out without a second thought if they found out about this. They would be unwilling to hear your explanations and would deduce your actions down to the work of the Devil. 

They wouldn’t care that immersing yourself in the craft—whether this stuff is actually real or not—is what saved your life, time and time again. They wouldn’t care that when you had the worst depression episode, it was meditating, learning the meanings of different crystals, and connecting with the Earth and the divine that taught you the meaning of life again. None of them would ever be willing enough to even try to understand. 

“Thank you,” you say in a mere whisper, eyes glossing over slightly. 

He sees your eyes. His hand snakes up to your jaw, bringing your face closer to his, noses ghosting against one another. “For what, darlin’?” 

“For trying to understand. For acting like you want to.” Your eyes falter from his. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, trying to spark your attention back up to his gaze. It does. 

“No, baby. I want to. No actin’ here.” His lips meet yours, warming you from the inside out.

“You swear?” you ask him as he pulls away. 

His eyebrow quirks up at your antics. Your bottom lip juts out in a pout. “Swear?” you repeat. 

“On my life,” he says. 

You place one more kiss to his lips before you’re pulling away and sliding off the bed. “Come, I’ll cook. You haven’t eaten since this afternoon, huh?” 

“Guilty,” he tells you, face warm at how well you know him. “Mhmm. Do you mind just putting the cards back in that box over there for me real quick?” 

“Of course, darlin’.” 

“Thank you, baby,” and with that, you’re out in the kitchen, whipping up a small meal for the both of you.  

As he grabs all the cards, putting them in a stack before he slides them in the box, a singular card jumps out of his hands. He remembers what you said earlier. 

The way that I like to do it is by shuffling the deck and letting the card itself jump out at you! There are many ways to do it, but I don’t know. I like the pure chance of doing it that way.

He picks up the card, softly speaking to it. “Jumpin’ out for me?” He has to pull the card to and from his eyes a few times before his vision becomes clear. Love, the card reads. He smiles to himself, his heart giving him all the explanation he needs for the meaning of it. He places the card into his flannel pocket to show you after you dinner.  

With both your tummies satiated, you begin to gather the dishes when Joel throws you a stern look. Whether you two are actively in your dynamic or not, you know not to test that look. You settle back down in your seat, hands held up defensively with the smallest of airy giggles. 

“Ya know better than that, darlin’, especially if you cooked.”

“I know, I know,” you say to him apologetically. “I’ll take care of it,” he breathes, “but first,” he stands up, leaning over your shoulder so you both can look at the card from a good angle when he pulls it out. “Remember what you were sayin’ earlier ‘bout your cards jumpin’ out at ya and whatnot?” 

“Yeeaahh,” you drag out, turning your head and looking up at him curiously. 

“Well,” he reaches for the card tucked safely in his pocket. “As I was puttin’ them back in the box, this one just came out at me.” He sets it down softly in front of you. 

“Oh?” You’re eager to see which card. Love, your eyes read. Your heart beats five times stronger, and your smile grows ten times cheesier. 

“Does it mean anythin’?” He asks. “For our..current situation?” He has a silliness in his voice, but you can tell he’s genuinely curious. 

“It means…” you start, your eyes slowly leading back to meet his own. You stare into his eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth, the safety, the love that he always gives you so willingly. A moment extra passes, and you’re still in a trance. He sees your stare fade from adoration into something more deep, needy. His stare changes, too. The pretty brown of his eyes nearly erased with arousal in your sudden change of energy. He quirks his eyebrow, reminding you to speak.

“It means.. Daddy needs to take me to bed,” you say, voice soft and shaky with arousal. 

“Is that right?” he asks, his deep voice vibrating you from the outside in.

His mere tone has you slipping already, your voice automatically pushing out a reply, knowing he requires a response after every question. “Y-yes,” you say. 

He leans in to give you a slow, heated kiss, his hand finding its way to your jaw. He pulls away, much too soon to your liking, but you don’t protest. “Bed. Now,” he says, standing himself to full height. “Yes, sir,” you say as you shoot up from your seat, making a bee line to your bedroom. “And in position,” he yells to you. 

You don’t respond to him then, but that’s okay. He knows his sweet girl heard him; he knows how good of a listener you are. Which is why he refrains from his original idea of teasing you—of clearing the dining table and washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen—before he gives you what you need. 

Instead, he only clears the dining table, saving everything else for later and coming to you. He finds you, completely stripped of your clothes, centered at the middle of your bed, sitting on your haunches, palms face up on your thighs, eyes casted downward. Eager yet patient. Aching with need yet satiated knowing that you will be taken care of. His sweet girl. So good.

His shirt is the first to go, left somewhere at the doorway of your room. He’ll grab it later. For now, even though no one else is in this house, he shuts your door, wanting both of you to be completely consumed with one another and nothing else. He pulls the rest of his clothes off as he makes his way to the edge of your bed, leaning over. Your eyes are still downcast until his fingers are on your chin, bringing your attention to him. 

He can’t help but melt into a puddle with the way you’re looking at him. It’s almost as if he created the entire Universe for you. “Mi alma (my soul),” he says. “You’re always so good for me. Always.” He brings your lips together in a soft embrace. You chase his touch as best as his grip allows you to when he pulls away. 

Even softer than the kiss, he asks “How do you want me?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you respond, “I just need to feel you. Every single part of you, Daddy, I-”

He cuts your babbling off with a kiss, and this time, he doesn’t break it as he pushes you to lay on your back. He doesn’t break it as he lines himself up with you. He doesn’t break it as your legs go to wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. He foregos all forms of prep or foreplay, knowing you need him just as desperately as he needs you. 

The rest of your guys’ night is filled with exactly this. Feeling—and filling—each other in the deepest ways possible. He makes you cum on his cock several times before he fills you to the brim with his spend, kissing and licking into your mouth, all over your neck, and any other areas he can reach without straying too far from your face. He sees his entire existence in your eyes; he needs to be there as he gives himself to you. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away, lowering himself down your body and settling into the space between your thighs. He marvels at what a pretty mess both of you made, your shine all over as his cum begins to leak its way out of you. He leans forward, flat tongue licking up a slow, wet path across your entire sex. He stays there for hours, pulling climax and climax out of you, his belly feeling full at how much he’s taken from you. 

Even as you reach the territory of overstimulation, you don’t care. You want more. You need more. 

Joel makes his way back up to you, missing the feel of your mouth on his. As he looks up though, he sees tears pooling in your eyes. His hands immediately go to your face, thumbs catching the runaway tear. “Talk to me, baby,” his voice quivers, his feelings heightened at the emotional intensity of the last several hours. 

“I-” you choke back a sob. “Please don’t ever leave me, baby. I don’t think-” you take a shaky breath, more tears escaping your eyes. “I can’t live without you, baby, I need you, I love you, please don’t ever leave-”

His lips are back on yours, soft and all-consuming, stealing your anxieties and stowing them far away where they will never poison your mind ever again. 

“Never,” he says. “I’m yours, my sweet girl. Always. I’m not goin’ anywhere that’s not with you. I love you more than anythin’ in this fuckin’ world. You’re never gettin’ rid of me, ya hear, mi flor? (my flower),” he says as he gives your head a small shake, making sure his words are etching themselves into every groove of your brain so you never forget it. 

It’s been a week since that night you and Joel had your house to yourselves, and he still can’t shake the burst of insecurity that infiltrated your mind. Which is why he finds himself at a local (witch)craft store—way out of his depth but still set on finding the perfect thing to seal his love for you. 

You two have discussed the concept of a collar before, and you showed a genuine interest. It was a tangible reminder of who you belonged to, and it definitely made your heart skip a beat. However, you weren’t so attuned to the idea of the actual image of a traditional collar, and neither was Joel. The conversation was cut short because you got pulled into another task that had to be taken care of, and the topic was never brought about again. But Joel thinks about it more often than you think. 

In some dynamics, collars are accessories that a Dominant and submissive work their way up to. In a way, the collar symbolized a promise. It symbolized forever. For some, it was their wedding ring equivalent. That was what intrigued Joel so much. So, after last week, the idea has been eating away at him. 

And that’s when he saw it. A beautiful necklace, the chain, a mix of green crystals—your favorite color—all various shades, with a beautiful, metal pendant sitting at the heart of the necklace. It was a short chain, slightly longer than how a collar would wrap around your neck, but still mimicked the effect of one. You talk often about how much you love the moon and that night you talked about the amazing energy the moon provides. The pendant was a moon with a star hanging from the top of the moon’s crescent figure. It was perfect. It was you. 

He finds the worker and goes through the motions of purchasing the necklace for you. Of course, Joel wanted a tangible thing to symbolize his promise to you, and that’s when another idea struck him. He turned back around into the store. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he says. “Ya wouldn’t happen to have any rings, would ya? Preferably one with a moon?”

The lady gives a knowing smile. “Right this way,” she says. She may not understand the dynamic between the two of you, but she definitely can recognize a lovestruck man when she sees one. 

He calls you on his way home from the store. 

“Hi, mi luna (my moon),” he says. “What are you up to right now?”

“Hi, baby,” you respond giddily, his mere presence, whether on the phone or in person, always makes your mood one hundred times better. Hearing his little nickname for you though throws you off guard, forcing you to ignore his question. “Luna?”

He smiles. “It means moon.”

“No, yeah, I know that, baby,” you softly chuckle, “I meant, what inspired it?”

“No reason,” he says nonchalantly. “Was that okay though?”

“I like anything that comes outta your mouth, baby,” your voice laced with a filth he knows all too well. 

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his cock from stirring. “Darlin’,” he says, voice strained. 

You stifle a laugh, knowing how easy it is to get him going. “Hmmmm?”

“You better choose your next words very wisely, girl.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you offer quickly as you fill his ears with your addicting laughter, “I’m done, I promise.”

He grumbles something incoherent, ever your handsome grump, then reminds you about his question. 

“Oh, right, sorry! I just got done cooking lunch for everyone. I’m in my room now, though.”

“Can you come over for a bit?”

“Always. You home now?” 

“Just parkin’, baby.”

“On my way, Sir,” you say, holding in another little giggle. 

“Fuckin’ trouble,” you hear him say before he ends the call. 

You meet him as he gets out his car, him pulling you in for a bruising kiss that immediately has your core pulsing. “Well, hello to you too, cowboy,” you smirk as he pulls away. He smacks your ass as he turns you around and starts guiding you inside, one hand on your hip, the other holding the bag with your new necklace inside. 

Not wanting him to let go of you, you spin in his arm and reach for his keys, turning back to unlock his front door. 

“So,” he starts as you break away from him, making your way to his couch. He immediately goes to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water, placing it in your hands rather than the table because he knows you probably haven’t had a moment to hydrate yourself, having just finished taking care of your family as he called you. 

You drink half the glass gratefully, bringing the rest to his mouth as he sits next to you, knowing he probably hasn’t hydrated himself either. He finishes it then sets the glass down on the coffee table. 

“I got you somethin’.” He tries to sound mysterious, but really he’s sounding like an excited schoolboy ready to share his treasure with the class. 

“Oh yeah?” you say. “May I ask why? It wasn’t expensive, right?” You soften at your last question.

He knows you get a little apprehensive at the idea of money being spent on you. But he abides by your wishes too much to his liking, so this, he allows himself. “The number don’t matter, baby. Close your eyes and turn around.” 

“Sir, yes, sir,” you mutter under your breath, adjusting yourself to be between his legs, his one stretched across the couch as the other hangs off the side. 

Once you settle in front of him, he leans over to grab the bag from the table and pull the necklace out. “Eyes closed, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“You remember a while back our conversation on collars?”

“Yes?” you say, a questioning inflection present. 

 “Well…” Joel trails off. Right as you jump to speak at his weird behavior, you feel cold metal grace the skin of your neck. You gasp at the sudden change in temperature, fighting for your life to keep your eyes closed until he tells you to do otherwise. 

“I know neither of us wanted the traditional look. Something more sly has always been our style, huh? I hope I chose okay,” he says softly.

“I’m gonna cry, can I please open my eyes now?”

“Yeah, bab- no, actually, wait,” he says, pulling you to stand up, his hands on your hips, guiding you to the mirror in his en suite bathroom. “Okay, yeah. Open.”

The second your eyes open and land onto the ethereal necklace resting on your chest, you can’t help the flood that falls from your eyes. “Joel,” you breathe out. “Baby, oh my god.”

“Is it alright?”

You turn in his arms, your eyes now directly on his instead of through your reflection. “Baby, really? Is it alright? This is the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” your voice cracking through each word. 

His cheeks are a little blushed, slightly bashful at your praise. “I just- I wasn’t sure what to choose or what crystal had what magic, but what really sold me was the moon,” he says as his hand comes up to caress the pendant. 

You respond to him by pulling him in for a kiss. One in which you hope tells him everything he needs to know about how grateful and how truly, deeply in love with him you are. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he kisses into you, replicating the same feeling back to you. You begin to smile through the kiss as something else clicks for you. You pull away from him. 

“Is this why you called me luna earlier?”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, baby, I actually really love it,” you smile up at him, butterflies erupting in his belly at the sight. “Coming from only you though.” His hand snakes up to grab your jaw, pulling you into his mouth as he whispers mi luna before crashing himself onto you for another kiss. 

You pull away from him, breathless, and turn to face the mirror again. You’re too entranced by the beautiful jewelry to keep your eyes off of it for too long. His hands snake around your waist, and it’s then that you notice it. 

You freeze. You grab his left hand, an antique looking moon, identical to the one on your neck, wrapped around his ring finger, staring back at you. Your eyes flick back up to your guys’ reflection, meeting his eyes. “Was waitin’ for you to notice,” he says. 

If you thought you were sobbing before, then you’re an absolute wailing mess now, hiccuping like a little child who is yet to learn how to control their emotions. “I love you so fucking much,” you say as best as you can in between each hiccupped breath you take.

He turns you back to face him, cupping your face with both hands, peppering your face with kisses everywhere he can manage. Soft I love you’s leave his mouth in a chant, praying to his one and only Goddess. 

He lets you cry it out, he knows you need to. As soon as you're less of a blubbering mess, he’ll remind you that he is forever yours until you choose otherwise. He’ll remind you that although he takes charge ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s because you let him. 

He’ll remind you just how much he’s irrevocably in love with you, verbally, physically, and every other way he can. From now until forever. 

End Note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc. — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @survivingandenduring @getitoutofmymind @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Reindeer

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and you and Javi spent the night preparing for your girls to have the most magical Christmas morning

Word Count: 5.2K

Paring: Dad!Javi x Wife!Reader (No use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f recieving), creampie, praise kink, talk about not using birth control, kind of getting caught (??? Thank Santa's Reindeer I guess), terrible Christmas puns, sweet, sickening Christmas fluff, Javi spoiling the crap out of his little girls because he loves them more than life, idk you guys, this story is just a warm lil Christmas hug 😭

A/N: IT'S CHRISTMAS!!!! Christmas is my favorite holiday, and I have been so excited to write about our adorable lil Peña family and their holiday endeavors 🥹 These two would do anything to give their girls the most magical Christmases ever and my heart is exploding into a million pieces 😭💕🎄

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Mommy, is Santa coming now?” 

“No, baby. Not until tomorrow.” 

“...Is tomorrow now?” Your 4 year old Harper questioned, plopping herself down on the couch next to Javi, snuggling herself in between her dad and older sisters as you tucked the girls in with a big, fluffy blanket before finding your spot next to your husband. 

“No Harper, Santa comes at night. When we go to bed. Remember?” Elliot sassed, letting out a huff of frustration at how many times her younger sister had asked about the long awaited arrival of Christmas morning. 

“Elliot! If you’re not nice to Harper, Santa may not come!” Your oldest Lucy gasped, trying to police her younger sisters’ behavior within an inch of her life to ensure that she would wake up with presents under the tree tomorrow. 

Elliot’s face went white in fear, immediately reaching over to her younger sister and pulling her in for a long hug. “Sorry, Harper. Santa will be here tomorrow morning… I hope.” 

“I don’t think you girls need to worry, I’m sure Santa knows you’ve been pretty darn good all year long.” Javi grinned, leaning over on the couch to wrap the girls up in his broad grasp, making them giggle and squeal as he tickled and peppered them with playful kisses. “Okay, Pollitas (little chickens) what do you say you guys start the movie and Mommy and I go make hot chocolate?” Reaching over to give your thigh a little squeeze, Javi shot you a little wink, tilting over to press a soft kiss into your hair. 

“Yay! Hot Chocolate!” The girls screeched in unison, waving their little arms in the air in excitement as they snuggled closer together on the couch. “Thank you!” 

“De Nada (you’re welcome).” Javi beamed, letting out a little grunt as he pressed his hands into his knees, rising up off the couch, giving each of the girls one more kiss before making his way to the kitchen. 

“Alright cuties, which movie, Rudolph or Frosty?” You smiled, making your way over to the TV to hold up their VHS options. 

“Rudolph! Rudolph!” The three chanted, wiggling in excitement in their spots as you pressed the tape into the VCR and hit play on the remote, following Javi’s suit as you gave each of your daughters a quick kiss before making your way into the kitchen where you found Javi with a handful of Christmas mugs and an extra large can of whipped cream. 

“Javi…” You sighed, letting out a little laugh as he set down the five mugs on the counter followed by the whipped cream, “I think we probably should go easy on the whipped cream tonight, you already know how hard it is to get them to bed on Christmas Eve, and a sugar high isn’t gonna help.” 

“What makes you think I’d give ‘em too much whipped cream?” He smirked, shrugging his shoulders at you as he pulled the box of hot chocolate out of the cabinet, setting it next to everything else before snaking his hand around your waist, pulling you in closer to peck a quick kiss on your lips, staring down at you with his sweet brown eyes. 

“Because,” You huffed playfully, pressing up on your tiptoes to give him another peck back between your words, “you spoil these girls rotten. They’ve got you wrapped around their fingers, Jav, each and every one of them.” 

“Can you blame me?” He beamed, gesturing towards your daughters all snuggled together, giggling and singing along to the movie. The two of you couldn’t help but admire your beautiful girls, letting out a content sigh as you rested your head on his shoulder, taking a moment to soak in how truly lucky you were- because truth be told, you couldn’t blame Javi one bit. 

“No, I can’t. God, they are cute, aren’t they?” 

“Cute just like their Momma.” Javi grinned, sneaking his hand just a little further down your waist to grab a handful of your ass, making you let out a little squeal before giving him a playful smack in the chest. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You smirked, making your way over to the fridge to grab your milk, completing your hot chocolate ensemble. “I honestly should be having coffee right now considering how late we’re gonna be up, setting up presents and putting things together.”

“C’mon, we’re pros at this by now.” Javi teased, now getting to work on warming up the hot chocolate ingredients. 

“Oh yeah? Tell that to Santa who insisted on getting the girls a brand new hockey net that still needs to be assembled, even after all of their gifts had already been bought.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at Javi as you began pouring the hot chocolate into the girls mugs, sprinkling mini marshmallows on the tops of their cups. 

“They’ve been extra good…” Javi pouted, shooting you a guilty look as you handed him over mugs to be topped off with whipped cream. 

“Well, I sure hope Santa didn’t lose the instructions to put it together because Mrs. Claus will not be assembling the net at 2 am.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be done before then. Gotta make sure Santa has plenty of time to give you his North Pole before Christmas morning.” Javi chuckled, biting down on his lip to contain his laughter as you gave him another nudge, snickering along with him. 

“You are such a dork.” 

“What? You’ve been a good girl this year too, you don’t want Santa to stuff your chimney?”

That one made you almost drop the two mugs you had in your hands, letting out an audible snort as you set them down on the counter, burying your face in your hands to try and hold in your laughter. 

“You are fucking ridiculous, you know that? Finish up these hot chocolates, you dummy, your daughters are waiting for you.” You smirked, picking back up your mugs as you began to make your way out of the kitchen. 

“Like you’re waiting for my balls of holly later?” Javi quietly called out behind you, making you whip your head around to give him the biggest stank face you could muster, unimpressed. “What? That’s a good one.” Javi insisted, still laughing at his own joke. 

“Ridiculous, I swear.” 

It wasn’t long after your hot chocolates were finished that the girls had passed out on the couch, cuddled in a pile between you and Javi and buried under the blanket that had been spread across the 5 of you. You probably should have woken the girls up to get them off to bed, but you and Javi couldn’t help but relish in the moment of your family snuggled together in the soft glow of your Christmas tree lights, your hearts feeling fuller than any present under your tree could make you.

After the two of you finally agreed you had soaked in enough snuggles, you gently woke up Lucy as Javi slung Elliot and Harper over his shoulders to carry them off to bed, unable to stop yourself from admiring how broad he looked with your two girls and their matching pajamas and sleepy hair hoisted on either side of him. 

You helped Lucy and Elliot get settled into their rooms, promising to make your way back to say goodnight after tucking in Harper, still sound asleep in Javi’s arms as he laid her down into bed, gently tucking her into her covers, brushing her tangled curls away from her face and pressing a soft kiss onto her forehead. Elliot was next, now half awake after being dropped off in her room, stumbling her way into her own bed, grumbling a half awake “Goodnight Mommy and Daddy” as she snuck into her sheets, nestled between the mountain of stuffed animals piled between her mattress and bedroom wall. You and Javi couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly your little rock was back to being sound asleep as soon as she hit the bed, already inheriting her dad’s obnoxiously loud snoring at the ripe age of 6. Lucy was the last stop on your bedtime train, seeing as she was the most awake and coherent as she had at least been able to walk herself to bed after you and Javi had woken her up. 

By the time you and Javi had gotten to her room, she had already settled into bed, pulling her comforter up to her face as she snuggled up with her worn and well loved stuffed penguin, her little face lighting up as the two of you made your way though the door.  

“Hi cutie pie.” You cooed, sitting on the edge of her bed, gently stroking her hair as Javi settled down onto the mattress next to you. “You ready for Christmas tomorrow?” 

Lucy nodded, a slight look of concern now spreading across her face as her big brown eyes stared back up at you. “Mom… Santa’s gonna come tonight, right? He won’t be mad at Elliot or Harper because sometimes they aren’t always good… Well okay, I guess I’m not always good either, but-” 

“Amoricta (Little love),” Javi cooed, reaching over to reassuringly rub her back, cutting her off mid sentence, “You and your sisters are the best daughters that we could ask for. I know for a fact that Santa knows that. And I also know that he knows what a good older sister you are to Elliot and Harper. Don’t worry, Monita (Little Monkey), I’m sure Santa will come.” 

“Okay Dad. Te amo (I love you). I love you too, Mommy.” Lucy grinned, snuggling deeper into her sheets with a content sigh, slowly beginning to close her eyes and drift off to sleep. 

“We love you too, Lucy.” 

“Te amamos mucho, linda (we love you so much, cutie).” 

As you and Javi each gave Lucy one last kiss goodnight, pressing gentle kisses in her messy hair, you gently closed the door behind you, the soft click of the last bedroom door knob signaling your success at getting the girls to bed before the real work of Christmas Eve began. You turned around, holding out your hand to give Javi a quiet high-five to celebrate the easiness of your bedtime routine before snaking your hands around Javi’s waist, caging your chest with his as you looked up at him. 

“I think that was the quickest we’ve ever gotten them to bed on Christmas Eve.” 

“I don’t even think the whipped cream even had anything to do with it.” Javi teased, shaking you playful in his grasp. 

“Pendejo (Jerk). C’mon, let’s go get these cuties some presents, Santa.” 

After your 8th Christmas with kids, you and Javi had gotten present set up and placement down to a science. After several trips up and down the stairs to the basement, all of the gifts for the girls had been set under the tree as Javi got to work on setting up his inevitable last minute gift that seemed to make its way out of Santa’s Workshop every year, even when all of your agreed upon gifts had already been purchased. 

Javi sat cross legged on the floor, directions and hockey net parts spread out in front of him as he grumbled to himself trying to connect two of the pieces together, letting out a frustrated sigh while you set out the plate of cookies the girls had decorated for Santa, laughing at your husband’s current fight with his late gift. 

“How’s it goin’, Jav? Need me to call in the elves to ask for help?” You snickered, plopping yourself down next to him, grabbing a few pieces to help with assembling. 

“Shut up. I think I’m almost done, I just have to put the net part on. Is everything else set up?” 

“Mmmmhmmm. Including the reindeer carrots that are your turn to eat this year.” 

“Fuck me…” Javi sighed, shooting you a menacing look, “Do I have to? You know I-” 

“Oh believe me, I know how much you hate the carrots.” You giggled, mischievously raising an eyebrow at him, handing over a few of the pieces you had put together to connect to the existing frame of the hockey net. “I did it the past 2 years in a row. You are such a baby, you know that? Your turn for carrots this year, Peña. I made sure they were the biggest ones I could find. You know how hungry those reindeer are.” 

Before Javi could respond, he was grabbing you around your side, tickling your stomach as payback as you laughed and squirmed in his grasp, flailing your arms as the two of you rolled over on the ground. Javi pulled you to lay on top of his chest as he rested his back against the floor, wrapping his arms around the small of your back, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. You tried your best to keep your squeals semi-silent to prevent waking up the girls as his mustache brushed against your skin, the smile spread across his lips pressing over your body. 

“Don’t think- don’t think your adorable antics are getting you out of carrot duty.” You snickered, cupping your hands around his cheeks, pausing his assault of kisses as his sweet brown eyes stared up at you. 

“Me? Trying to get out of eating those terrible ass vegetables? Never. What would make you think that, Hermosa?” Javi smirked, his voice oozing with sarcasm as he shook his head at you, caging you tighter against his chest as his hands slid down the small of your back, now grabbing handfuls of your ass, making you let out a little squeal. 

“Javi! You are so bad!” You playfully scolded, trying to pry off the tight grip his palms had on your backside to free yourself. “Presents and carrots first, you know the rules.” Smirking down at him, Javi let out a reluctant sigh, finally releasing you as he sat back up, picking up one of the remaining pieces of the hockey net left to assemble, shaking his head in a sarcastic disappointment at his failed attempt to at least prolong the inevitable. 

“You don’t wanna let Santa stuff your stocking early this year, huh?” Javi teased, giving you a little shrug as he chuckled to himself at the terrible Christmas puns he had in stock tonight. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Javi…” You sighed, burying your hand in your face in embarrassment at your husband’s terrible joke, giving him a little shove as you stood up, making your way back to the kitchen to set up the rest of the cookies and carrots before the two of you headed off to bed. “You keep making those terrible puns and I’m gonna make you wrap your present before you give it to me.” You joked, eying the half hard bulge still in Javi’s sweatpants and gesturing your head towards your bedroom where your unopened box of condoms sat untouched in Javi’s nightstand- You had never started taking your birth control again after having Harper, and while you and Javi had agreed that 3 girls was the perfect number of kids, you also hadn’t necessarily been proactively preventing yourself from having a 4th. Javi had bought the box in an effort of good faith a few months ago, but hadn’t seen an ounce of action, despite all of the action that had happened without them. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good, don’t put me on the naughty list yet. Like you’d want my present wrapped anyways…” Javi smirked, snapping together two of the last pieces of the hockey net before pressing his hands to his knees, letting out a grunt as he stood, and pushing the net by the rest of the already arranged presents. 

“I swear, I’m sending you back to the North Pole.” 

With your living room perfectly arranged for Christmas Morning, you and Javi made your way back to your bedroom, stopping to do a quick peek in on each of the girls as you traveled down the hallway. All 3 lay sound asleep in their beds, quietly snoring away, you and Javi making your way to your bedroom with a quiet high five for Christmas Eve accomplishments- presents assembled, girls asleep, the palpable excitement of the holiday hanging in the air. 

“Bets on what time they’re up tomorrow?” You laughed, looking over at Javi, standing in the doorway brushing his teeth as you stripped out of your clothes and into your pajamas. Javi let out a playful huff before stepping back into the bathroom to spit out the rest of his toothpaste, setting his toothbrush next to yours before taking off his shirt and sweatpants and tossing them into the hamper with your freshly shed clothes. 

“If it’s anything past 5:30, I’ll be happy.” He chuckled, climbing into bed with you, sneaking his way under the covers and wrapping his arms around your waist, making you giggle as he tugged you closer, pressing ticklish kisses over your neck and face as you playfully swatted at him. “If my girls are happy, I’m happy.” 

“I’m sure the girls will be more than happy. Considering how much their Daddy spoils them rotten.” You teased, reaching up to cup Javi’s face, your thumb gently stroking the scratchy stubble of his cheek. 

“What? Santa only comes once a year, right? I’d give ‘em everything if I could. They deserve it. Just like their Momma deserves everything too.” Javi gently rasped against the skin of your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point, forcing a breathy moan to escape from your mouth. “God I still don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Hermosa. If you’re the only present for the rest of my life, I’ll die a fucking happy man.” 

Letting his hands snake down your sides, Javi’s fingertips toyed with the hem of your shirt and pajama bottoms, his fingers sliding towards your heat as your lips met his with a gentle and tender passion. You ran your fingers through the dark curls of his hair as he flipped you onto your back, now pressing languid kisses down your stomach as he carefully tugged your pajama bottoms off your hips, tossing them to the floor. Letting your knees fall open, Javi’s soft kisses met the inside of your thighs, a smile spreading across his lips as you revealed the slick that had been pooling between your legs. 

“And this…” Javi smirked, letting his kisses feather closer and closer to your core, leaving your hips to instinctively start to buck towards his face as you waited for his tongue to relieve the dull ache of your already throbbing clit, “This is the best fucking present I could ever ask for.” 

Before you could even roll your eyes at Javi’s cheesy remark, a long, broad swipe of his tongue traveled through your folds, the sensation already enough to have you trying your best to stifle your moans to keep from waking the girls just down the hall from you. Javi took his time, letting his tongue work around your clit in a mix of flat, even strokes and circling swirls, his arm draped across your hips to hold you in place while his other free hand reached up to grab yours, your fingers intertwining, palms pressed together. 

You bit down on your lip as his nose bumped against your throbbing bundle of nerves, letting his tongue plunge in and out of your cunt, the familiar tingle at the base of your spine beginning to build as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets, Javi’s firm grasp keeping you in place. 

Javi had spent years memorizing every tick and twitch that made you writhe under his touch, learning each moan and movement that brought you closer to your end- so it should have been no surprise to you that Javi could sense you were close, yet the sudden switch of his mouth latching around your clit, sweetly sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves, had the coil in your belly on the verge of snapping. 

“Javi… Oh, fuck- baby, I’m close, don’t stop, please don’t stop, oh my god.” You whimpered, trying your best to keep your voice hushed, but despite how hard you tried, you could help but let a muffled moan escape from your lips as you squeezed down even harder on Javi’s hand to try and keep from being any louder than you already were. It wasn’t long before you felt your legs begin to tremble, and heat bloom in your core, your orgasm ripping through your body, leaving you panting and breathless as Javi pulled back from between your legs, a boyish grin spread across his shiny face, now covered in your arousal. 

You could feel your chest rising and falling, your breathing heavy and labored as Javi crawled his way back up the bed, reaching down to help tug his boxers off his legs, revealing his cock, already painfully hard and dripping with precum as you thumbed at his tip, slowly wrapping your fingers around his length, stroking him as a low groan rumbled in his chest. 

As he slotted himself between your legs, you guided his tip towards your entrance, collecting the slick dripping through your folds before caging his chest against yours, pressing into you inch by inch, the sweet stretch of his fullness making you whimper as he bottomed out against your cervix. His lips met yours, his mouth catching your whines as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, like he was savoring every moment buried deep in the warmth and wetness inside you. 

“Shhhhh, gotta be quiet for me baby.” He rasped against your skin, nipping at your ear, almost as if he was trying to remind himself as much as he was reminding you, a deep grunt rustling in the back of his throat. You nodded, your eyes meeting the brown pools of his, filled with an equal mix of love and longing as a tender smile lined his lips, whispering a soft “I love you” to one another before your lips were slotted together once again, your tongues swiping in the parted spaces between your mouths, your kisses slow and solicitous as you became more and more tangled in your sheets. 

Each thrust of Javi’s hips felt deeper and fuller than the last, the lewd noises of your wetness and muted moans coating the walls of your bedroom only intensified as Javi wrapped his broad hands around the backs of your thighs, pressing your legs to your chest, and making you clench tighter around the sweet sting of his stretch. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, Hermosa. My beautiful fucking wife.” Javi mewled through gritted teeth, snaking his hand between your bodies to rub your clit, still swollen and puffy from your first orgasm. You let out a sharp gasp, so sensitive and worked up, already feeling yourself climbing towards your own high once again as the pads of his fingers circled your mound, and dick punched against your g-spot. 

You could feel your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his cock, fighting with everything in you to keep from screaming out his name, fisting at your bedsheets and clamping your eyes shut, trying to hold out for any ounce of composure you had left. “Fuck, Javi, fuck- I feel like I’m gonna cum again, fuck- oh fuck.” You whined, eyes still closed, head tilted back against the pillow. 

Suddenly, you felt Javi’s free hand slide under jaw, wrapping his fingers around your cheeks, gently forcing your head back down, making you open your eyes to see the wrecked look also beginning to spread its way across his face. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Just need to see that pretty face for me when you cum. Let go baby, I’ve got you.” 

With only a few more thrusts and circles of your clit, you could feel the tingle at the base of your spine beginning to spread through every inch of your body, pleasure rushing through your veins as your orgasm crashed over you. Javi’s hand covered your mouth in just enough time to mute the ragged moans escaping your lips, the feeling of you clamping down around his cock as you came almost enough to take him out right along with you, fighting with everything in him to let you finish riding out your own high before he followed suit. 

“Fuck, fuck- I’m not gonna last much longer, Osita. Oh shit- Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Javi grunted, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster with each snap of his hips, the hand covering your mouth now gripping the meat of your thighs, fingertips digging into your skin. 

“Inside, please, fuck- I’m not ovulating, please, I need to feel you in me.” You whimpered, your brain barely functioning as you tried to form a coherent sentence, still reeling from your orgasm. 

That was all Javi needed to send him over the edge, barely making it halfway through his last thrust before spilling deep inside you, his cock throbbing as warm spend covered your walls, milking himself of every last drop before letting his body slump into yours, your chests rising and falling in sync. 

You both lay there for a moment, breathless and blissed out as you tried to compose yourselves, Javi letting out a soft hiss as he pulled out, resting his head against your chest as you ran your fingers through the damp curls of his hair, a satisfied smirk spreading across your face as you quietly giggled to yourself. 

“What’s so funny?” Javi asked, perking his head up to look at you, his brow scrunched in confusion. 

“Your sleigh feelin’ a little lighter? Because I think I did a pretty good job of helping Santa to empty his sack.” You couldn’t help but snort as Javi let out the most exasperated sigh before joining in your laughter, burying his face in his hand before looking back up at you. 

“And I'm the ridiculous one....” 

“MOMMY, DADDY! WAKE UP, WAKE UP, IT’S CHRISTMAS!” 

If your daughters' high pitched shrieks and squeals weren’t enough to have you wide awake at the ripe hours of 5:46 A.M., their tiny bodies flopping onto the bed, squishing you and Javi under your covers most definitely was. 

“Mhmmmmm, Merry Christmas, cuties.” You yawned, stretching your arms over your head, trying to wake yourself up quick enough to keep up with your girls’ boundless energy, giving Javi a stark nudge with your elbow to help wake him up from his log-like slumber. “Jav, wake up, baby.” 

“Daddy! It’s Christmas, you gotta wake up!” Elliot insisted, now jumping on top of her dad, making him let out a loud grunt as her body landed on top of his. 

“Yup, yup, I’m up, I’m up.” Javi grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to wake himself up enough to face the wrath of his energetic daughters. “Merry Christmas, Pollitas.” He smiled, reaching out grab the girls and pull them on top of his chest, making all of them giggle and squeal in delight as the 5 of you snuggled together in your bed. 

“Can we see if Santa came? Please, please, pleaseeeeee?” Lucy begged, her sisters nodding in agreement, bouncing up and down on the bed with excitement as you and Javi inched yourself more and more awake. 

“Yup, let’s g-”

“LET’S GO!” The girls screeched, already scampering off the bed and out the door as you and Javi pushed yourselves up off the mattress, groggily following behind your daughters with heavy footsteps trying to wake yourselves up from your lack of sleep the night before. 

“Do you think Santa brought us coffee?” Javi mumbled, running his hand through his curls, ruffling the ends of his hair as you curled tighter against the oversized sweatshirt draped over your body, letting out a little half yawn, half laugh. 

As the 5 of you finally made it down the stairs, you could hear the girls squealing and pattering around the kitchen, gleefully pointing to the table, where a now practically cleared plate for Santa and his Reindeer sat. “Mommy, look! Santa ate all the cookies!” Harper giggled, grabbing you and Javi by the hand and dragging you across the room to see the lack of sugary treats that had been left behind. 

“And the reindeer too! I told you they love the carrots! They must have been really excited because last night, in the middle of the night, I could have sworn I heard the reindeer making happy noises for their treats too! Mom and Dad, I think they must have landed on the roof by your room, because that’s where I heard the noises coming from!” Lucy informed her sisters, leaving you and Javi’s faces both ghost white at the realization you two were 100% the reindeer that your daughter had heard last night. 

“Oh wow, Lucy, that’s uh- Yeah, they really must love those carrots.” Javi barely choked out, the both of you grimacing at each other in horror, guilty looks plastered across your faces. 

“Let’s go see what’s under the tree!” Elliot squealed, dashing towards the living room, completely oblivious to her dad’s comment, too focused on the gifts sitting under the tree for her and her sisters to care about any reindeer her sister may or may not have heard. Once again, your trio was off, sprinting to the living room, leaving you and Javi practically speechless as you wearily trailed behind them. 

“I’ve always worried about them catching us, but never once did I think about the fact they’d mistake us for reindeer.” You quietly snickered, giving Javi a playful nudge, trying to laugh to keep from dying of embarrassment. “Santa’s definitely putting us on the naughty list next year.” 

“Mommy! Daddy! Come here! Look what Santa brought us!” 

“He got us a new hockey net!” 

“Oh my god this is the best Christmas ever!” 

“I think Santa will understand.” Javi smiled, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest as you watched your girls scamper in joy around your living room, the soft glow of your Christmas tree lighting up their beaming smiles as they began the hunt for their presents. Because the truth was, in that moment, nothing else in the world mattered. Not reindeer noises, lack of sleep, or late nights setting up last minute presents- The only thing that mattered in that moment was the pure love and happiness radiating from every inch of your living room. At the end of the day, you couldn't care how many presents sat under your tree because the best gift you could ever ask for stood right beside you and in front of you, and that was enough to make you feel like the luckiest person on earth. You weren’t sure you’d ever understand what you had done to deserve the world’s most perfect present- Your beautiful family and the life you had built together with them. 

“I love you so much, Javi. Merry Christmas.” 

“I love you more, Osita. Merry Christmas, mi amor.” 

Taglist

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse

[gluion]

safe haven (how much longer do we have?) ➵ kim taerae

kim taerae x reader, slight sung hanbin x reader

you can only hope for more tomorrows with taerae.

genre/warnings ➵ strangers to lovers, heavy angst with a happy ending, touch of fluff, afab reader (no gendered terms), lowercase intended, apocalypse au, hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), depictions of grief, descriptions of gore/blood, use of guns, allusions and discussions of suicide, minor character deaths, hanbin is your ex, zhanghao and matthew appearance :’), elements of the last of us (don’t support neil druckmann!), mostly written in past tense (because u’re remembering!)

word count ➵ 6.2k words

inspired by ➵ “anaheim” by niki, “are you happy?” by wavesmp3, “love wins all” by iu, episode three of hbo’s the last of us, and “you’re gonna carry that weight” quote from cowboy bebop

a/n ➵ thought i'd make my official debut to zeroseblr with this lil piece that i absolutely love!! i hope you guys look forward to more zb1 fics from me :DD here's the original one if you're interested! if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

time was the one thing that occupied everyone’s minds. it held value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and people revolved their lives around it.

questions flew around with every tick and tock—what day is it today? when’s your next doctor’s appointment? how long has it been since you’ve last seen your friends from high school? until when does this meeting last? 

as the hands of the clock continue to rotate, the calendar pages would flip along. birthdays were celebrated with every revolution as candles on cakes were lit up, awaiting the puff of celebrants as they wished for their desires. holidays were ones to look forward to; people dressed up to celebrate periods of the year that mattered to them while others slept in until noon. and days were spent counting down until graduations, where caps with tassels would fly to the expanse of blue and orange as cheers and sobs sound throughout.

but now, no one keeps track of time. clocks stopped moving and calendars weren’t produced annually. once the surge of the infected took over, grabbing on humans, taking them away from the lives they’ve lived, everyone ran like they were running out of time. with every second that passes, people are ridden with possibilities of how they might bid farewell to life itself—would it be through the hands of the infected or their own?

now, only one question echoes within their minds: how long do we have?

yet, the clock continues—tick, tock, tick, tock. it keeps going, and going, and going, like how everyone expects it. while everyone seemed to let time go, you still kept track of it all: birthdays, holidays, a graduation you never had.

the outbreak hit two years ago on the day of hanbin’s graduation. cheers turned into screams. white togas and diplomas were splattered with red. the lively became lifeless.

you remember hanbin’s hand in yours, fingers gripping you as if you were his life, as you charged out of the gymnasium, legs keeping up with the speed of his. you darted off to nowhere as images of the infected tearing people apart took up every block, all the way from skin to bone.

and while it was a rush of tragedies, hanbin was the only hope you had.

“keep your eyes on me,” he glanced at you, eyes off the path as he met your gaze. “don’t look at them. only look at me.”

it was impossible to ignore the wails that filled your ears, but you would repeat his words—his soft-spoken voice—to drown them out.

by nightfall, you and hanbin found yourselves in a motel room, skin cleaned from blood splatters and dressed in clothes that engulfed your figures, and in each other’s arms on a twin-sized bed. the duvet that wrapped around you two is thin, not at all keeping you warm for the night, but the warmth of hanbin was enough to provide you a sense of security—stability amidst the ever-changing world.

he whispered into the crown of your head, words meant to dispel your fears, all while you sobbed into his shirt. there was nothing that he could do but stay strong for you.

and for a few days, that room acted as your safe haven. the time spent within those four walls is the life you imagined your future with hanbin. it would’ve been in a two-story house with a garden where a singular orange tree stands, lounging on the couch as you played movies to fall asleep to, but all you had was an old room with a carpeted floor with unrecognizable stains and a bathroom unable to fit two.

yet, you would choose this over anything. even if it meant eating instant noodles for every meal or sleeping on a mattress that ruins your backs, you would choose this if it meant hanbin would be with you.

still, time continues to move. hanbin knew that you both couldn’t stay in that room or else the infected may reach you. so when you both went to bed on that last night, you outlined his features from the space between his eyebrows all the way to his lips, and you spent that time memorizing his warmth to carry with you for the rest of your life. you could only hope that he stays with you until the end.

after a month passed, you and hanbin met zhanghao, an injured boy who only wanted to live. at first, hanbin was hesitant to take the stranger in, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to live with the idea of abandoning someone in need. in a world where the infected have taken over, it only seemed right to help out others, save them from a fate they’re not ready to meet.

what started off as a pair turned into a trio. you’ve learned more about what it takes to survive in this life. long gone is the need for money to buy necessities; you need to scavenge if you want to live in an infected-ridden world. thanks to zhanghao, you and hanbin got to learn about how to find supplies in every building that you pass on the journey.

but it’s not enough to know where to find food and bullets. hanbin decided that it was only right to teach you how to use a gun. with every morning that came, you two spent hours learning how to hold, reload, and fire.

“don’t worry,” he told you as his chin hovered over your shoulder. you both stared at the tin can situated on a stack of boxes only a few meters away. “you won’t have to worry about fighting alone. i’ll be here with you.” as you exhaled, your eyes zeroed in on the target. “now, shoot.”

six months have passed, and you were happy that you were still a trio. zhanghao became your best friend over that time. his laughs were enough to shine glimmers of hope onto you. you were glad that you decided to help him off the ground and tend his bullet wound that day.

until you found yourselves retreating from the horde of infected.

time moves at a constant speed but it can become swift if it decides to. when you and zhanghao reached the doors leading to safety, you remember seeing hanbin fighting off those who were once like you, bullets firing at their heads. you remember your screams, telling him to run to you—go to where it’s safe—so that you can keep having tomorrows with him.

yet, hanbin glanced at zhanghao, nodding at him before his eyes met yours. you watched how his mouth moved, a soundless three-word phrase leaving him before the doors shut before you. you would’ve pried them open but zhanghao kept his arms around you, holding you back. from letting the infected reach you. from letting hanbin come back to you.

the wails that left you are enough to attract the infected. if only the infected were to burst through the doors, grab onto you and bring you to hanbin, then maybe you would stop crying. yet, zhanghao dragged you away. you never saw him as your best friend after that.

a month passed, and you still refused to talk to him. the boy tried to strike up a conversation with you, trying to earn your laugh like he used to, but he was only met with a cold shoulder. with every brick he put, you smashed your sledgehammer against it, dispelling any hope he had in rekindling his friendship with you.

the two of you learned to live in silence, fighting for survival while dealing with the loss of the one who would always bring you both to safety.

until you came across another boy who pointed his gun toward you. his defensive demeanor reminded you of hanbin, and you wondered if this was his doing—his reincarnation. but before he could pull the trigger, zhanghao saved you from meeting your fate.

somehow, the duo had turned into a trio once more. you still refused to talk to zhanghao, but would eavesdrop on the conversations he shared with the stranger. you learned that the new addition is named taerae.

but even the stranger wasn’t enough to fill the void that hanbin left. with every nightfall, when the soft snores of the two boys filled your ears, tears streamed down your face as sobs threatened to spill out of your mouth. the palm of your hand wasn’t enough to muffle your weeps. behind your eyelids, hanbin’s last words to you play on repeat. the ones he failed to say. the ones you’ll never hear again.

maybe if you didn’t leave that motel room then he would’ve still been with you, arms finding their place around your waist as he trails kisses all over you. if the outbreak didn’t happen, then maybe you would be living in that two-story house with him. maybe you would wake up to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice by the bedside table and the warmth of his lips on your forehead. and maybe you could finally tell him yes before he slips the silver band on your finger—you could’ve grown with him until your hair turns grey.

the weight you carry never got lighter with time. the void continued to consume you whole with the goal of ripping you apart. as another month passed, another life was lost—not to the infected but to the raiders.

“hao, you have to stay with me.” those were the first words you told him since hanbin’s death. crimson continued to spill out of his abdomen through the gaps between your fingertips in the same way tears flow out. “taerae! find gauze, betadine, anything!” you never glanced at the stranger, keeping your gaze on your best friend whose eyes continued to droop.

still, zhanghao caressed your face, thumb wiping teardrops. as he slowly entered territories that you both knew he would never escape, he grinned at you one last time. “i missed hearing you. i’m glad you’ll be the last thing i hear.”

but you tried to tell him that you couldn’t be the last voice he heard. it should’ve been with someone he can imagine his future with, maybe in a two-story house or a cramped flat in an apartment complex. he deserves more tomorrows in the same way hanbin did.

but time continues to move. it took him away from you in a matter of minutes, slithering away without a second thought and no regard for the value of life, and all you were left with was his temple—still. lifeless. as you sobbed into his shirt, still holding the wound, the warmth of taerae’s hand stayed on your back, moving along with your wails. 

now, you carry the loss of two. it never got easier with time.

taerae still sticks with you. it only seemed right. stay strong in numbers as you wander off to nowhere, grasping at the loose ends of survival.

two weeks have passed. you and taerae got used to the new dynamic; while he went hunting and you were tasked with scavenging, you both played your roles in combat, ready for any raid or horde. when night came, you both took shifts, keeping watch while the other got some shut-eye.

until that one evening.

you recall the sounds of wood crackling from the fire. it stood strong against the breeze—burning, shining—surrounded by greens that latch on browns. hues of amber cascaded over your skin, painting you with warmth—it’ll never compare to the one you craved. your eyes drifted to taerae who sat across from you, his eyes trained on the fire as he rubbed his palms together. perhaps he craved the same type of warmth you longed for.

“we used to be three.” his eyes snapped towards yours. “before you came, we used to be three—zhanghao, me, and—” it rose in you like bile, wanting to escape but never leaving. “we were three then.”

you glanced at the fire that continued to burn. “we met zhanghao a month after the outbreak, spent six months together until—” the claws of the void struck against your throat, holding you back from sharing with the stranger what your life was before he came. while you never found the right words to say, taerae never pushed, letting you say what you wanted to share while filling in the blanks on his own. 

“i resented zhanghao after what happened.” you moved your gaze to taerae whose eyes never left you. “refused to talk to him. refused to forgive.” and you remember how you hesitated, taking a deep breath in before sputtering out the next sentence. “refused to accept.”

nine months ago, the outbreak didn’t happen. nine months ago, you were attending hanbin’s graduation. nine months ago, you two were imagining your tomorrows—together, for eternity.

and those nine months fractured all hopes and dreams; the glass is now littered with cracks, ready to burst into shards.

“but i think about the last time we saw zhanghao,” the image of him sitting in front of you all frail, treading the line between life and death, flashed in front of you; it’s quick but strong to remind you of what’s lost. “and i wish i could’ve learned how to forgive during those two months.”

but it was an impossible request. how could you ever forgive a boy you’ve known for only six months for taking your future away? how could you forgive a world that took him away? how could you forgive and live?

and still, you did.

you left it at that. they were enough. so when you told taerae that you’ll take over tonight’s shift, he never asked to hear more. instead, he laid near the campfire as you keep an eye out.

and once enough hours have passed, you allowed yourself to sob like other nights. the breeze that passed through branches reminded you of zhanghao; rustling leaves imitated the giggles of the boy you’ve only known during the apocalypse.

the wind that grazed against your skin should’ve been a nuisance, but the warmth of the fire wrapped you up like the duvet in that motel room. and you don’t complain—it’s the only part of hanbin you have left.

the heat was enough to last you the night, but the chill of reality sent you back to the void.

that night, taerae listened to your sobs. not one of you got enough rest for the journey.

another two weeks went by. you two got into a better groove of the routine; instead of hunting and scavenging in silence, you and taerae found yourselves talking more about your lives before the outbreak. you learned that he’s only a year younger than hanbin, and he shared that he had plans to pursue music.

“if the world finds a cure to this mess, you have to promise me that you’ll get me front-row tickets to your first show.” it was a joke. in what world could there be a cure for the infected? but the wishful thinking of what could be—what could’ve been—is all you had left.

still, taerae promised you that.

that night, you two stayed in the living room of an abandoned house. instead of lighting the fireplace, candles were placed on the coffee table. they shined in the middle of you two, you who stayed on the couch and taerae who sat on the mattress lying on the floor.

“where were you?” his eyes met yours. “on the day of the outbreak, i mean.”

he leaned back, hands resting on the mattress before he looked once more at the wax that continued to melt. “i was there for my upperclassmen’s graduation.” it hit you like a sudden downpour on a sunny day. “i knew the people in the music program and we were going to celebrate after. until the infected came.”

and when you said the name of the university, his gaze met yours as his shoulders stiffened. “m—my hanbin.” it’s the first time you spoke of his name, and the sight of taerae’s eyes widening over it was enough to speak for himself.

“i—i didn’t know,” he whispered, but his words were loud enough to shatter glass. “i only spoke to him a few times. he spoke of you with so much love.”

your heart skipped beats; it should’ve been enough to send you off into the same territories where hanbin and zhanghao now stay. your mouth turned dry as taerae’s voice morphed into radio silence.

before you knew it, the two of you left the information to hang in the air as you tried to drift into slumber. the clock continues to tick. minutes turned into hours; time moves like it usually does once more.

yet, you were stuck in the same gymnasium, fixing hanbin’s toga as you scolded him about how wrinkled it’s become—hey! you’ll go up on stage soon. we can’t take pictures of you like this. despite your words, he smiled at you before grazing his lips on your temple—his silent way of telling you the three-word phrase.

in a split second, you were off the couch. you barged out of the house, clutching your chest as the knot constricted your throat, and your feet dragged you off to nowhere. every sound has turned into a buzz—only the voice of hanbin being the one clear thing amidst the hysteria.

before you knew it, you stood before a horizon of green. it takes only one step into the woods, alone with no protection, for you to meet your demise. you would’ve charged into it in the same way you would’ve charged out to save hanbin that day.

all it takes is one step, and—

“what are you doing?!” a pair of hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you around until you were face-to-face with the last form of life that you know of. his breaths were short as his fingers dug into your arms. “you can’t just rush out in the middle of the night! i woke up worried sick.” his eyebrows knitted in frustration. confusion. distress. 

the voice was caught in your throat. how does one begin to unpack the baggage they’ve learned to carry? when the items they bring are revolting, rotten, repugnant, how does someone not feel shame about showing all the tattered-up objects?

how do you learn to open up to someone you’ve only known for three months?

your hands trembled; you’ve carried the weight of it all for too long.

in that split second, your nose met the juncture between his chin and shoulder. the material of his shirt against your cheek allowed you to bathe in what you miss—the hand of zhanghao that once caressed your face. the lips of hanbin that lingered with every kiss. all the moments that you hoped time would freeze just for you lives in the boy you stick with for survival.

all it took were taerae’s hands to rest on the lower side of your back for the tears to begin their stream. the sobs spill out. for once, they weren’t muffled like those other nights. they sounded throughout the space that surrounded you two. you allowed yourself to drop the baggage only for a few minutes.

taerae took you back to the house that night, allowing you to sob about all that you’ve kept under the wraps. when sunrise came, you found your legs mixed with his as his arms remained wrapped around you, and your ear pressed against his chest. the sound of his breathing is the one reminder of what a safe haven is. 

half a year went by. taerae still stays by your side. the baggage got lighter.

it should’ve been the same routine; taerae goes off to hunt while you scavenge, and you’ll take turns on the night shifts. but that night shifted something between you two—stolen glances, quiet giggles, linked fingers.

two months have gone by. the moon shined through the trees, their shadows cascading on an abandoned cabin that you and taerae decided to stay in for that night.

it should’ve been the same set-up as other nights spent in abandoned houses; you’ll sleep on the couch while he sleeps on a dragged-out mattress. instead, he sat with you, your back resting on his chest along with his hand staying on your arm. 

a lit candle rested on the table; its amber tones painted the taerae’s skin—close to the fruit tree that stands in your lost future.

“what would you do if there is a cure to this?” you watched how his fingers danced across your skin, calloused from plucking guitar strings or wielding a gun. 

taerae’s chest rumbled against your back as he hummed. “what would you do?”

a giggle left as you looked at the boy. “i was the one who asked you first!”

he shot you a grin as his hand slipped into yours. the candle continued to burn; it did a poor job of giving you light and warmth that night. but he did it all—one smile. one exhale. one indication to show that he lives.

“travel, maybe? or i’ll go back to writing music.” you nodded at his plans before looking back at the light source. “what about you?”

“i don’t know.”

there was no point in going back to university after such a catastrophe. if anything, the year spent surrounded by the infected, fighting for survival, has shown you that there’s more to life than the perpetual cycle of working a nine-to-five.

so…

“i would settle down if i could.” the wax continued to melt. “i think i’ve seen enough of the world. for once, i just want to stay home, indulge in my hobbies, live the life that i want.”

his breath grazed the top of your head. “with someone?” and suddenly, you became aware of it all—the heat that emitted from his palm, the movement of his chest against your back, the gravity of his question.

the words get caught in your throat. your heartbeat rang in your ears. for the first time since hanbin’s death, you considered it. 

“with someone.”

before you knew it, his hand caressed your cheek. you were forced to meet his eyes which glistened with devotion. he leaned forward, his breath grazing your skin while you held in yours. you didn’t miss how his gaze flickered to your lips before he met your eyes once more.

then, he held back. it’s a choice, one only you can make. but when your eyes shut, it’s a quiet plea—a silent yes.

his lips met yours. 

the warmth that blossomed in your chest wasn’t like the one in that motel room. not like the embrace of the one you’ve lost. it was one of all seasons—changing with the weather, bringing comfort throughout the everchanging times.

it’s a perpetual cycle of fighting for survival. you’ll endure through it all.

a month passed by, and you came across another boy on the journey. he’s named matthew, and he told you of a safe haven located in the town that you and taerae grew up in.

for a moment, it was an internal debate—should you go back to where the downfall started? can you go to where the memory of hanbin still lives?

but one glance at taerae was enough to settle it. the three of you embarked on your journey.

you remember that day. it was a walk with the goal of finding a car to make the journey back an easy one. the heat of the sun prickled against your skin, but you still kept your arms crossed.

“are you two together?” matthew asked, causing you to whip your head towards him. your eyes met taerae’s for a split second—confusion, dejection—before they landed back at the stranger who kept his eyes on the path you took.

“no, we aren’t.”

for the rest of the journey, it was quiet.

sundown came, and you found yourselves in a convenience store for that night’s shelter. taerae was in charge of taking the night shift, allowing you and matthew to rest up. when the stranger went off to sleep on the makeshift bed, you were left alone with taerae.

you watched how he cleaned his gun with a rag stained with dark splotches. the moon gleamed through the window—it cannot compare to how taerae shines.

you needed to get some sleep, is what you tell yourself. with one spin, you were about to make your way to where you’d sleep for that night.

“are we really not?” you halted in your tracks. you couldn’t look at him. “did it mean nothing?”

not a single answer left your mouth. your eyes remained straightforward, refusing to meet his gaze.

the warmth vanished with a lack of an answer. instead, it was replaced once more with the cold—the void—that attempted to consume you whole.

and when a scornful chuckle left taerae, you knew that you’d burnt the bridge. you walked away, leaving him to do his job, bidding farewell to the closest form of a safe haven.

two weeks went by and another goodbye had to be done. matthew stood in front of you two, a grin on his lips while tears streamed down his face. his arm was out, revealing a bite mark. the veins near the wound had already turned black. he would’ve turned in a few hours.

“go out.” those were taerae’s first words to you since that night in the convenience store.

you remember the last thing you told matthew before you left the room—you’ll get to your safe haven. the sobs that spilled out of him are ones you’ll never forget. and when you shut the door behind you, it took 20 seconds until you heard a gunshot. 

the weight got heavier once more.

another two weeks went by, and you and taerae found yourselves standing in front of the remains of a safe haven. the fences were torn down. streaks of dark red littered over pavements. not a single sight of a soul lived.

still, you two trudged your way through the town, all the way until you reached taerae’s house. like others, his was abandoned. the cream walls were littered with red strokes and vines. when you both entered, you didn’t miss how taerae’s eyes lingered on a photo hung on the wall—a picture of him, his sister, and his parents.

you gave him all the time he needed to explore, to sit with the mess, while you stayed in the living room. as you sat on the couch that had gathered dust, you caught sight of a bowl of plastic produce that rested on the coffee table. it held a variety of fruits whose paint had chipped: watermelon, chestnut, and fig.

but amidst the crowd of old, torn-down, plastic fruits, a strawberry and an orange leaned against each other as grime collected on them. once your hands reached out to the fruits, you pulled them apart—a mess of red and orange stained the two.

he came back to you in 30 minutes, eyes glistening with tears. yet, he only gave you a nod, and you two went to another house. 

you then stood in front of your old house with taerae by your side. weeds grew in the front yard, and the wooden exterior has turned a few shades darker. silence settled between you two. 

to be back in a place you grew up in, where all your memories live, is a process—a grieving one. being face-to-face with the damage brought by the infected can only remind you of what you had and could’ve had.

and once you made your way to your childhood room, you were reminded of all your hopes and dreams before the outbreak. dust rested on top of books. the laptop on your desk had no charge. potted plants have withered.

when you approached the picture frames found on your table, your hand darted out to a photograph of you and hanbin. there was no occasion when that picture was taken—the fact that you two were together was enough for it to be remembered. memorialized.

as you made your way back down the stairs, you saw taerae crouched in front of the console table with eyes trained on photographs. “was this your high school graduation?” you approached him and saw the picture he was referring to, you who stood beside hanbin with a big grin as his lips were on your temple.

“yeah,” you said as you crouched beside taerae. “we knew each other back when i was a freshman.” your fingers trailed on the wooden frame, gathering the dust before flicking it away. despite your efforts, it was still covered in grime, but you didn’t mind. 

“and you stayed together since?” all you did was hum. “did you find anything up there?”

for the first time since you entered your old house, you looked at taerae and he met your gaze. your eyes trailed his features. the eyes that speak of a thousand words. the lips that once kissed yours.

and it hit you like the gunshot that filled your ears, the breeze that rustled the leaves that one night, the doors that shut close. it was 20 months since the outbreak happened, 13 months since you lost hanbin, and 11 months since zhanghao told you his last words—but it was also 13 months spent with taerae, choosing to survive with him. 

“yeah.”

you found a lot of things within those four walls. there were books you once read growing up, stuffed toys you slept with, and the one picture of you and hanbin; they’re the remaining pieces you have left of a life that was good.

you would’ve kept it all, rebuilt the life that was ripped away by the hands of the infected—

“but nothing to hold on to.”

they’re memories, ones you’ll carry with you, but ones worth moving on from. 

“oh,” he said as his eyes still held your gaze. “okay.”

and with one exhale, you said, “let’s rebuild it, just a place for us two.”

it was a whirlwind of emotions in taerae’s eyes, ones you can’t identify. for a moment, you thought he’d say no. maybe he decided that 13 months was enough. one more day with you would be too much, and—

“okay.” when his hand reached out for yours, linking fingers with you like all other times, you gave him a small smile.

when you and taerae stood up, you made your way out of the house, off to find a place just for you two—a safe haven to last you many tomorrows with him.

a month passed. the safe haven was rebuilt; the fences stood strong with electrical wires and barbed wires, and the town was cleaned of all remnants of grime and blood. the two of you took up different tasks ranging from cleaning, cooking, building, and maintaining the haven.

but while you were okay with a knife, accidents did happen. “fuck!”

“what happened?” you remember how taerae came rushing in, only to see you pressing on the skin around the cut on your finger.

before you knew it, you were sitting down with him as he wrapped gauze around the wound. “taerae, it’s just a cut. i’ll be fine.”

“still, i don’t want you getting hurt.” you watched how his eyes were focused on treating your finger. “i’ll be in charge of cooking now.”

you shook your head. “no, i like to cook. i want to cook for us.” his gaze then met yours, his filled with worry while yours filled with determination. they flickered back to your finger, and his hands busied themselves with covering it up.

once he was done, his hand continued to hold yours. you remember the heat of his thumb as it drew patterns on your hand. he’s etched himself onto you.

his eyes met yours once more, and he said, “okay, just let me help out.” all you gave him was a nod.

another month went by, and you woke up to the sound of gunshots. you remember how hazy your vision was that night, fresh from sleep but panic coursing through your veins. and when you looked beside you to only see an empty spot, you didn’t think twice about rushing out of bed.

when you exited the house, you saw taerae holding his gun, firing at the people who attempted to tear down the haven’s fences. “taerae!” when he looked back at you, you caught sight of the crimson that poured out of his abdomen.

another gunshot was fired, grazing taerae’s leg, and he fell to his knees. you ran to him, reaching out to rest your hand on the wound as you began to sob. “fuck! you have to stay with me.” with his arm resting around your shoulders, you dragged him back to the house.

you set him on the table and moved his hand to hold where he was shot. “hold it.” you rushed to where the medical supplies were stored and gathered whatever you could hold. when you got back, you saw how blood continued to spill out.

you got to work, focused on trying to patch him up. making sure he stays. “you can’t go. i won’t let it happen.” and while your hands busied themselves with treating the injury, you remember how taerae’s hand caressed your cheek, thumb wiping away the spilled tears. 

“in the basement, there’s a piece of paper that has all the codes. if you ever—”

“no, you’ll be okay.”

still, he continued to talk. “if you ever forget the codes, you can always look at the paper. don’t forget that you need to always check the water system every two days, and—”

“taerae!” you croaked out his name in between sobs. “you’ll be okay. you have to, okay?” the more he went on about what to keep in mind, the baggage got heavier. “i can’t do this without you. i won’t allow it.”

because 15 months ago, you would’ve bid farewell to the mayhem. 13 months ago, you hoped for time to drag you away. 12 months ago, you would’ve walked into the forest. but it’s been 22 months, and you were still walking on this earth, choosing to live amidst the chaos—so long as taerae was with you. 

and when you leaned your forehead on his, eyes closed, you felt his breath graze against your lips. “i need you.”

all it took were three words from you. “okay.”

it’s been two months since that happened. the safe haven was rebuilt once more. you and taerae fortified the defense system, hoping they’ll be enough to keep any infected and raiders out. all that matters is that you two were protected—safe—from the chaos.

now, you sit on a couch as you flip through the pages of a book you didn’t have time to read before the outbreak. when all responsibilities vanished, you were able to find enough time to do things you couldn’t do then.

you were ready to get yourself sucked into the world of the novel, but taerae came into the living room with his hands behind his back and a small smile on his lips. “do you remember what you made me promise you before?”

you frown at him, confused, until he shows you an acoustic guitar. “oh my god, you found one?” you put the book on the coffee table.

he takes a seat beside you, body facing towards you as he rests the instrument on his lap. “here, front-row tickets to my first show.” you almost laughed because this is no stadium or club, but a home—one you built with him.

it takes only one smile from him for you to hold it back.

“any song requests?” he strums on the guitar strings, perfectly in tune. it’s almost as if he tuned it before coming to you.

a hum leaves you as you rest your head on your hand propped on the couch. “whatever you want to show me.”

it takes him a few seconds, fingers fiddling with the strings, until he figures out what to play. when he sings out the words—dearest, darling, my universe—you melt like the candles you lit up those nights. as he continues to play a song of a world in hysteria but a love that endures, that’s when you realize what you’ve had all this time.

time is the one thing that occupies your mind. it holds value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and you learned to revolve your life around it.

it takes you two years to figure out that life doesn’t end after the outbreak—and 17 months to realize that your safe haven is not a two-story house with an orange tree in the garden but the boy in front of you.

when you lean closer to him, his fingers falter, messing up the chords. your hand reaches out to caress his face as your eyes flicker to his lips. you don’t miss how taerae holds his breath, how he stops playing the guitar, how his eyes look back at yours—it’s a slurry of warmth, tenderness.

“i love you.”

all it took was a three-word phrase from you for him to close the distance.

the warmth that spreads within you is like the one you experience in the abandoned cabin. but now, you’re full of hope—a reason to stay—in an infected-ridden world.

now, only one question echoes within your mind: how much longer do we have?

an eternity is what you hope.

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