#dude I’d be an alcoholic too if I was him what the fuck

[thou-babbling-brook]

Who was gonna tell me Arno wrote letters to his late father. Who was gonna tell me that in these letters you see a little boy pray that his father is in Heaven to a young man asking why God hates him to hoping there is a God and Heaven so that his father and father figure can rest to a man so disillusioned and scarred that he cannot possibly believe there is a just deity judging us for our sins.

Who was gonna tell me you can see in his letters the steady decline of his faith in God and the world because how could a man so scarred and jaded ever believe in a god if God never seemed to believe in him. What. WHAT.

[jockbroski34]

AlterEgo

The last thing I expected on my 20th birthday was to receive a gift from Cody, my roommate.  We were never close, and there was no way in hell he actually knew much about me to know it was my birthday without me telling him.  Him and I were basically complete opposites.  While I was your typical nerd, smart, introverted, and so on, he was basically your typical jock in all the worst ways.  He was boisterous, arrogant, and a total meathead.  We mostly agreed to stay out of each others’ way, considering our irreconcilable differences, but that didn’t stop him from being a massive pain in the ass.  His room was constantly in a state of disarray, with sweaty clothes scattered all over the place.  As such, I often avoided being anywhere near his room if necessary since it smelled like a locker room.  He often invited over his “bros” who were just as bad.  Whether they were hogging the TV to watch whatever game was on, smuggling alcohol into our dorm to get wasted, or playing catch in the fucking living room, they were always a nuisance.  And whenever I brought any of that up to him, he would always end up saying something like “It’s not that serious, dude.  We were just having a good time.”  Yeah, a good time at my expense.  Whoever assigned the two of us to live together must’ve thought this was some twisted joke.

I woke up at 9 AM, still a little tired from last night.  I hung out at one of my friends’ dorms to celebrate my birthday.  I yawned, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast.  I saw Cody was up as well, his legs spread across the couch, to the point that he was taking up two seats, watching something on the TV that was several volume levels too loud for me.

“Hey bro, today’s your birthday right?”  Cody asked, as he tilted his head to face me.

“Uhh, yeah.  How did you know?”  I responded.

“Oh don’t worry about it, bro.  Happy birthday!”  I saw him get up and run to his disorganized room, likely to grab something for me.  I could see a pair of worn gym shorts on the floor through the crack in the door.  He pulled out an old Nike shoe box, since he likely had nothing better to put a gift in.  “I’ve been saving this for you.  I hope you like it!”  Is this his way of trying to get on my good side?

I rolled my eyes since I doubt he got me anything I would enjoy.  He probably just got me something that he’d enjoy, like some tight-fitting tank top or protein powder or something.  Not that I work out or anything.  The only gift I’d want from him is for him to stop being a douche.  I opened the box and I was surprised about what I saw.  It was a video game.  Not any that I’d ever heard of.  I looked at the box art and the words AlterEgo were written in a wacky, colorful font.

“Yeah, I knew you like video games, so I found this for you.  I heard on the internet that it’s pretty nitch…nichy…what’s the word…”

“Niche?”  I responded.  I had to admit, him struggling to pronounce the word right was a little amusing.  As amusing as being with a simpleton like him could be.

“That’s the word!  I got it for myself, but I realized like half an hour in that it wasn’t my thing.  I’m happy with what I have right now.  I figured you’d probably get more out of it than me.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem, dude.  Anyways, I gotta hit the gym.  I’m gonna be out all day so you have the PS5 all to yourself.  Hope you enjoy it bro!”

I watch him leave, thankful to have some peace and quiet.  As I ate breakfast, I read the back of the cover in order to figure out what this game was about.

“Become a new you!  In this life simulation adventure, you can become any kind of person you want and live any way you choose.  Control your fictional avatar, your AlterEgo, and level up your stats to become closer to your true self.”

The game seemed something like The Sims or Animal Crossing, but with some stat progression system.  It was a game that I had never heard of, but it could be some hidden gem.  The rest of the back was filled with screenshots from the game with the cartoony characters doing activities such as cooking, jogging, and riding a motorcycle.  I figured I might as well try the game since I did get it for free.  Even if it was from Cody, I wasn’t one to refuse someone’s generosity.

I put the game in the disk slot and booted it up.  The title screen had that same logo and some bubbly background music.  I pressed the start button and I was presented with a save selection screen.  I noticed that Cody’s save was on there, which was odd because I was playing on my account.  I knew I should’ve put a password on it.  I wanted to make my own character, but part of me was curious about the character that he made.  Knowing him, I can only guess.  His game time was less than an hour, as he was only on Day 1, and he likely spent most of that time on the character creation screen.

I started his save and my character was sitting in his room.  At this point, it was very bare, with only a bed and a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered around the room.  I guess the character starts by moving into their new home?  I went into the menu to find more information about the character.  The character was named Cody obviously and his AlterEgo somewhat matched him too.  I went into the stats screen and I was greeted by a tutorial.

“Here you can check your AlterEgo’s stats.  You have already set your initial growth modifiers and assigned your base stats.  If you need a refresher, whatever stats you chose your AlterEgo to excel at are highlighted in red and the ones you chose to trade off are highlighted in blue.  This means that your AlterEgo will grow in the stats in red much faster and prioritize activities that increase those stats and avoid activities associated with increasing your stats in blue.  As you play, your AlterEgo will naturally develop into one of hundreds of potential archetypes based on the activities that they excel at.  Experiment and see who you become!”

I looked at the stat screen and saw a list of stats with a bar indicating percentage level.  The stats included Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, Courage, Charisma, and Luck.  Not too far off from DnD I guess.  It seemed like he chose to have Strength and Constitution as his highest stats as their font was colored red and Intelligence and Wisdom as his weakest stats as they were colored in blue.  Gee, why am I not surprised…  Cody was anything but a genius.  It seemed like he had 20 initial points to allocate wherever he chose with a default limit of 5.  And I was equally not surprised to find that my meathead roommate chose to put 5 in Strength and Constitution again like a barbarian.  It’s like all he cared about was his looks and perceived masculinity, even in game.

Strength (physical strength): 5

Constitution (physical build and stamina): 5

Dexterity (agility and flexibility): 2

Intelligence (knowledge): 0

Wisdom (intuition and discipline): 0

Courage (risk-taking and bravery): 3

Charisma (social skills): 3

Luck (good or bad fortune): 2

After looking through his stats, I decided enough was enough and I didn’t really want to go around pretending I was Cody the whole game.  I quit out of his save and went back to the title screen.  I was back on the save select screen when I became confused.  There was still one save, except the name of the character wasn’t Cody…it was mine?  The play time was set to 0 minutes.  I don’t know how that happened, but if it saves me the trouble of building a character and reading more tutorials, I’m happy.

To my relief, the avatar representing Cody wasn’t there.  Instead, a very generic, average character stood in its place in the same room.  I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some placeholder account with everything set to the default.  Whatever, I can probably change stuff about him later.  I decided to move my AlterEgo outside and I was greeted by a map of a large city.  I chose an area of the map to explore at random and controlled my new avatar.  On the busy city street, there was a cafe, restaurant, and a gym.  It was too early for the cafe and restaurant to open, so I guess my only option here is the gym.  I’ve never stepped foot in a gym before, but this character doesn’t have to represent me as a whole.  Plus, I’d like my character to be well-rounded unlike Cody’s who would probably spend the whole time grinding here.

I went into the gym and had to perform a set of quick-time events.  First, I had to do some bench presses.  Then some squats.  Then finally, run on a treadmill.  At the end of it, my AlterEgo did a cartoony celebration and flexed his arms.  A pop-up showing that my Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity went up by 1, followed up by another one saying that my Strength and Constitution will double every time I do activities like go to the gym.  So it looks like Cody’s modifiers carried over after all despite everything seeming to be the default.  That should’ve been the first thing I checked.  I didn’t want my character to be specced to be some lumbering brute.  I suppose that if I wanted to get my character’s Intelligence and Wisdom, it’d probably be like playing on Hard mode.  Honestly, I was open to the challenge.

I was disappointed to find out that it’d be harder than it seemed.  When my character got home in the evening, I went into one of his boxes and I was presented with an option to read.  I was presented with several options, ranging from comics to full-on novels.  I chose the novel since I figured it would raise my Intelligence the best.  I watched my AlterEgo try to read the book, but I saw a look of confusion on his face.  Eventually, he grew frustrated and threw the book back into the empty box as if he were shooting through a basketball hoop.  I expected my Intelligence to stay the same, but no, it actually dropped!

“Sometimes when your AlterEgo fails to complete an activity, their stats can decrease!  These stats can even go into the negative.  Make sure to keep your stats high because it can become very difficult to increase your stats if they fall below a certain point.”

I couldn’t believe that my character struggled to even read.  This guy was nothing like me at all!  I hoped that it would be easier to raise my AlterEgo’s Intelligence because I didn’t want him to be a moron.  I watched my character fall asleep and I could see into his dream.  Another tutorial popped up.

“Sometimes your character will have dreams!  These dreams are mostly random, but will also depend on your character’s stats.  Just like other activities, you have a chance to increase your stats.”

I watched my character fight in a zombie apocalypse, but the zombies didn’t even look remotely threatening.  I succeeded in the activity and my Courage went up by 2 and my Luck and Strength went up by 1.  My character wiped his head of sweat as the zombies turned to dust.

The next day, I learned that my AlterEgo can go to school.  That was expected, considering my character’s age, only I didn’t realize how hard it would be for him.  He was sitting in a desk trying to write down notes.  Eventually, like an idiot, he slammed his thick head on his desk and started snoring.  This was honestly getting embarrassing.  My Intelligence and Wisdom dropped yet again, not by 1, but by 2.  If I didn’t do something different, my AlterEgo would basically be a clone of Cody instead of myself.  After class, instead of being given an option to go and do something, my AlterEgo is approached by a group of buff men.

Quarterback: Hey new guy, you’re looking pretty strong.  Judging from your Strength and Constitution, I think you’d make a good fit for the football team.  Your Dexterity and Courage also seem pretty good.  Wanna join, bro?

You know who else played football?  Cody.  I had to keep being reminded of him even when he wasn’t even around.  This was my character and I didn’t care about sports, so I clicked the no option.  To my surprise, my AlterEgo nodded instead.  It's like this game is going out of its way to spite me at this point.  Two tutorials popped up.

“If your Wisdom is too low, your AlterEgo might act on their own desires rather than your command.  This means that they can sometimes act on their own or select activities that they are more interested in rather than those they are not.  Raise your Wisdom or else you will have less freedom when developing your AlterEgo.”

“You have decided to join a club or organization.  This will grant you a passive growth to certain stats every week.”

I watched as my AlterEgo walked away with the group of jocks.  A football uniform magically appeared over his normal clothes.  For joining the football team, I was granted a point in Strength, Constitution, Courage, and Charisma every week, with the usual double for Strength and Constitution.

I kept playing the game, getting frustrated at my AlterEgo’s reluctance to even try to act smart or reasonable.  He frequently avoided or skipped intellectual pursuits to focus on those that made him look or feel good.  It honestly just felt random whether he wanted to obey me or not.  By the end of Day 7, the first week my stats were looking like this.

Strength: 30

Constitution: 28

Dexterity: 10

Intelligence: -20

Wisdom: -15

Courage: 21

Charisma: 17

Luck: 16

My Intelligence and Wisdom seemed unfixable.  My AlterEgo wouldn’t even bother to try to read or pay attention at school and he consistently started to make random choices that satisfied his needs as the week progressed.  I grew incredibly frustrated at this, but out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was an end to this so I could go back and make my own character.  Either way, this game was plagued with questionable design choices.  It’s like the AlterEgo was already locked into a specific path.  I hoped that I had accidentally skipped a tutorial or something and that I hadn’t softlocked myself out of raising certain stats.  Unfortunately, my AlterEgo’s stats continued to grow and drop as I hit Day 30.

Strength: 75

Constitution: 69

Dexterity: 44

Intelligence: -66

Wisdom: -49

Courage: 54

Charisma: 37

Luck: 41

I received another tutorial message on Day 31.

“You look like you are on track to evolve into your archetype very soon!  By this point, your AlterEgo’s stats will be locked in place.  That will be the end of the main story, but there is still so much to enjoy afterwards!”

I figured I might as well see this through to the end.  You know, see how much of an idiot my character can become.  Despite my efforts, all my AlterEgo does now is work out, practice and go to games, and go to parties, outside of necessities.  His Intelligence is so low that he rarely even goes to school anymore and that has caused his intelligence to plummet to the bottom.  I played for even longer, eventually hitting Day 60.  Turns out that this is the day I would discover my AlterEgo’s archetype.

“Congratulations on making it this far.  I hope you are excited to find out your archetype, because I know I am!  Remember that these changes are permanent, so there will no longer be ways to increase or decrease your stats.”

I watched my AlterEgo marched onto the stage and I was able to view my final stats and a rating of each of them.  The descriptions seemed to be heavily based on my other stats, and trust me, they were very satirical, and in my case, very scathing.

Strength: 100

I’d give this an A+.  I’m not even sure if you are human anymore.  I’ve seen you lift things that no normal man could, not because you have to, but because you want to.  You spend more time at the gym than you do at your own house and you might give The Hulk a run for his money.

Constitution: 100

You also get an A+.  Your months of training at the gym have given you a perfect, chiseled body that looks like it could be made out of iron.  You have a seemingly endless supply of testosterone and your stamina (in more ways than one, it seems) cannot be beaten.

Dexterity: 75

This gets a B.  You are very athletic and quick on your feet despite your appearance.  However, your large size means that you can be pretty clumsy and you’ve probably broken more things than you’d like to admit.

Intelligence: -100

I’ll just go along with your teachers and give you a big fat F.  Are you even trying?  I worry that there’s not a single thought going around in your thick skull.  You care very little for anything intellectual or sophisticated, not that you even know what those words mean.

Wisdom: -90

Likewise, you also get another big fat F.  Were you dropped on your head when you were a baby or did you take too many tackles to your cranium?  You have incredibly poor judgment and you only make decisions that satisfy your brutish desires.  In short, you often act before you think.  Your lack of discipline is only matched by your lack of brain cells.  As long as you’re having fun, should I really care what you do with your life?

Courage: 90

I’d give this an A, but not an A+.  Because your brain moves too slow to process any risk, you often think before you act.  You often find yourself in the most dangerous of situations and you often perform incredibly stupid stunts.  When you’re on the field, you’re a risk taker, and at least it usually pays off.  On the bright side, you always come out unscathed, so I can commend that.

Charisma: 70

I’d give this a B-.  Being on the football team and being very attractive is going to place a lot of eyes on you, but they are all focused on your body because everything else you have to offer is very superficial.  I wonder if you surround yourself with people who think and act the same as you do or if people keep you around to laugh at every stupid word that comes out of your mouth.

Luck: 80

Lastly, you get a B.  Your luck genuinely amazes me sometimes.  Despite everything, despite your lack of any intellectual thought or reasoning, you have survived long enough to make it this far in life.  This alone proves that life favors some over others.  If there is room for the concept of a higher power in your shrunken headspace, then they probably feel a sense of amusement at the state of you bumbling around through life with only your good looks and muscles salvaging you.

“What do you think?  Are you happy with your results?  Anyhow, it’s time to reveal your archetype.  It’s who you are and who you will be from now on!  Drumroll please…  (As if it wasn’t obvious enough…)  You, my friend, are…THE JOCK!”

The Jock

You are likely an athlete or bodybuilder and you likely care little for intellectual thought.  You enjoy playing and watching sports and working out above anything else.  You are hyper-masculine, aggressive, arrogant, and egotistical.  However, you are also very muscular, tall, athletic, popular, and handsome.  You feel a deep sense of camaraderie with anyone you consider your bro, which mostly includes other jocks like yourself.  Your wardrobe mostly consists of tank tops, jerseys, varsity jackets, shorts, sweatpants, jockstraps, baseball caps, sneakers, and everything in between.  Because of your high testosterone and your above average genitals, you are viewed as a desirable partner and often partake in sexual activities with members of the opposite sex, and sometimes even other men depending on the person and situation.  Your most likely career path is as an athlete or coach, but as long as it doesn’t require too much deep thinking, you could probably find a job anywhere with your connections and attractiveness.  Enjoy your new self!

I watched my AlterEgo vanish within a cloud of smoke and come out a cartoonish representation of your average stereotypical jock with blonde hair and a very lunkish, yet admittedly impressive build.  He looked around, clearly disoriented, with a dull, confused look on his face before flexing with a cheesy, confident smirk on his face.  The audience cheered and clapped at this ridiculous personification of a walking stereotype as if they were watching a magic show.  Honestly, it was almost amusing how the description it gave for “me” couldn’t possibly be more wrong.  It sounded like everything Cody was, not me.  Although I guess I was playing with his settings, not by choice I will add, but I had little control over how my AlterEgo decided to live its life.  I just wish I could get him off my mind for just one day.  Either way, I found myself incredibly dissatisfied with my new AlterEgo, but I accidentally found out a way to make things even worse for me.  I just wanted to scroll through the remaining text to get to the credits, since I have been playing for 8 hours by now, when I saw a selection that would seal my fate.

“Are you satisfied with your result?  Now that you’ve discovered who you truly are, are you ready to be The Jock in the real world?  WARNING: If you select Yes, your save will be deleted as a result.  These changes are permanent.  If you click No, you can continue playing after the credits.”

I accidentally clicked Yes as I was mashing through the text.  What the hell was I thinking?!  I had no idea that this would change the entire trajectory of my life.  At first I felt nothing, as the screen faded to black.  Then, I saw the credits start to roll, playing a remix of the joyful title screen music, and that’s when I started to feel all warm inside and I felt a painful shock come from my controller.

I felt a sudden wave of pain rush through my body as my bones started to crack and shift in my body and my muscles began to inflate like balloons.  I looked at the credits and noticed that the new jock AlterEgo was doing the things he normally enjoyed doing in the background.  But I couldn’t really concentrate on it as I found myself focusing down below.  My legs stretched and stretched until I was around 6’4.  My feet grew to a size 15 and my thick glutes and ass made me sink deeper into the couch from their weight.  The fat in my stomach felt like it was melting as it left behind nothing more than a layer of sweat and a firm six pack of abs.  My upper chest formed into a round set of bouncy pecs.  Likewise, my biceps and triceps were almost the size of my head now and my soft hands became rough and covered in calluses from intense lifting.  I felt my clothes cling tightly to my body as if they were two sizes too small, and they’d easily rip if my body grew any more.  My shirt fit more like a crop top on me and my clothes were damp from pit and ass sweat.

I felt my long hair recede into my head until it formed into a shorter cut that was much easier to maintain.  As it did that, my chestnut-colored locks lightened into a golden blonde.  My soft, round eyes became more sharp and masculine and I could feel them turn from a chocolate brown into an icy shade of blue.  My youthful face lost most of its baby fat and buried beneath it was nothing more than the chiseled edges of my jawline.  The lower half of my face, which used to be soft and hairless, was now covered in a prickly lawn of stubble.  Even my pasty skin turned a shade tanner from the years I spent in the sun throwing balls around.  I noticed that my entire body started to sweat profusely to the point that I could smell my own musk and I became absorbed by my new-found masculine scent.  I could smell the testosterone that was pumping through my veins like a drug.  I felt powerful, dominant, virile, and dare I say it, good…  Lastly, I found my lips contort into an obnoxious, conceited smirk.  Was I…enjoying this?  Judging from the growing feeling in my groin, I was led to believe that I was.  And it kept growing and growing and growing…

All the while, the credits continued to play and the happy-go-lucky music felt like it was mocking my painful situation.  Despite the strange pleasure I felt, it was only a distraction as my body still writhed in pain through the whole process while I changed entirely into a real life manifestation of my AlterEgo.  What the hell is this game?  I noticed that the jock avatar stared directly towards the screen, as if he was breaking the fourth wall, and started to walk closer and closer before vanishing from his virtual prison for good.  The lively credits started to simmer down, giving the screen a more empty and disquieting feeling.  That was the last thing I noticed before I felt a sharp headache ring through my head.  I am usually fine playing games for a long period of time so why…Why did my roommate buy me this game anyways, bro?  If he was gonna buy me any game, he should’ve gotten me the new CoD or Madden game, not this weird shit.  I had to admit, it was kinda addicting.  I liked being able to work out or play sports even when I’m at home.  Wait, what was that?  I felt like I just heard another voice in my head, both sounding similar yet different to my own.  Eventually he called out directly to me.

“Hey bro, it’s me.  Your AlterEgo.  You know, the real you.  It’s been fun, dude.  Now I get to enter the real world, isn’t that sick?  So here’s what’s gonna happen, dude.  I am currently inside your mind and I’m making the final changes to turn you into the person you were always meant to be.  That’s right dude, we are becoming one singular person in both body and mind.  Don’t try to struggle or fight back.  You know I’m stronger than you.  There’s no going back.  So, are you ready to become one with your true self?

No…I thought to myself.  I wasn’t a jock.  I was never a jock.  I’m nothing like my AlterEgo.  This is a mistake.  This was Cody’s AlterEgo, not mine!

“Chill out, bro.  I know you read the warning and you clicked Yes, so you obviously knew the risk.  Why did you keep playing if you knew you’d become a jock regardless of the decisions you made?  Because you are one deep down.  Or maybe you secretly wanted to be one.  Maybe you wanted to see what life was like on the other side.  Maybe this Cody guy wanted you to try out this save, you know, to see what would happen...  Whatever reasoning, it really doesn’t matter dude.  I know you can feel me taking over your mind.  You’re finding it harder to think.  Soon you’ll be The Jock, me.  I just wish you realized a little sooner who you really were…”

I felt my brain starting to shut off and my vision starting to become blurry as my AlterEgo took it over.  I don’t even know how any of this is possible, even by today’s standards.  An AI buried deep within the game was taking over my body and mind entirely, reshaping me in his image.  But I continued to resist, to cling onto whatever parts of my personality I could.  However, as I felt my mind sink deeper and deeper into this mental void, I felt myself slowly becoming more and more like The Jock.  The archetype that was decided on, not by me, but for me.  Until that’s all I was.

Everything turned black for a few seconds.  I slowly regained consciousness as my brain rebooted itself.  Wait…what’s a reboot?  I sat and watched the credits with a dim look on my face as it finally ended.  I was booted back to the title screen and saw that my save was indeed deleted.  This was proof that my AlterEgo was now a part of me and that he was finally whole.  I pulled out my phone wanting to learn more about this game, because, dude, it was kinda fucking weird. By scrolling, I couldn’t find much, but I did discover a post from not too long ago on some ancient forum site that was probably made in the early 2000s.

“Is The Game AlterEgo Real?”

“I’ve heard rumors about this game called AlterEgo, but I have very little information on it.  It’s said to be incredibly dangerous and could lead to permanent bodily and mental changes.  Throughout all of my research, I could not find any copy of the game for sale, nor any definitive proof that it’s real or any information on the company that developed it.  If you have any information on this game, please let me know.”

I skimmed through the forum page, not that interested in reading what everyone had to say.  Who has time for that anyways?  But I did find one reply that caught my eye.

“I can confirm with certainty that AlterEgo does exist.  My friend received it as a gift for Christmas and he wouldn’t stop talking about it to me.  It’s like he was addicted.  A week later, when I saw him next, I could barely even recognize him.  His body had grown and changed greatly and he didn’t act like his usual self.  I even feel like his memories might be a little distorted.  I tried checking his house to find the game in order to figure out what it was all about, but I don’t think he has it anymore.  He probably sold it or gave it away since he said he finished it.  No matter what, he won’t tell me.  If there are any other copies of the game left, please let me know.”

Woah, so this game is fucking weird, dude.  Wasn’t just me.  I just played it right?  But I don’t feel any different.  You know, I bet these nerds would pay a lot for a chance to find out about this game.  Maybe they might come out as different people.  I’ll put it up on eBay for a high price.  One of those dweebs just has to take the bait.  I wouldn’t mind a little cash though.  I’d feel bad for selling Cody’s gift, but just imagine what I could get with that much money.

“Hey bro, you still in here dude?”  I heard a familiar voice shout as they opened the door.

“Yo Cody, there you are.  What’s up dude?”  I was happy to see him.  Cody was my roommate and my best friend.  We were practically inseparable.  When he made eye contact with me, his eyes widened.  I couldn’t really blame him for being impressed with my awesome body.

“You beat that game I gave you already?”  He seemed surprised, yet almost impressed.

“Yeah, it’s not usually my type, but I enjoyed it dude.”

“Do you…feel any different, bro?”  Cody sounded kinda hesitant there.  Had he read about the rumors too?  I don’t see why he’d have to worry.  None of those rumors are true anyways.

“Nah, same as I’ve always been.”

“Alright, good.  I was just making sure you were down to get some food.  You should be out partying and celebrating your birthday, not playing some nerdy video game.  And trust me, I know all the good spots.”

“You’re right bro.  I haven’t gotten enough exercise in today.  Let’s go.”

“Wait, before you go, your clothes are so sweaty dude.  You should change.”

“Oh shit, good idea.”

“Y-you can just wear one of my clothes.  They’d probably fit you better.”  He was right.  As I soon realized, someone shrunk all my clothes as part of a prank.

Me and Cody went to a sports bar to watch the game.  If I remember correctly, this was our favorite spot to get food, except you know, anywhere that lets me hit my macros.  Since it was my birthday, he even paid for the whole meal.  I don’t remember how long I’ve known him, but couldn’t ask for a better bro.  On the way home, Cody grabbed a six pack of beer from the frat house and brought it to our dorm to drink the night away.  I wasn’t old enough to drink, but it’s not like I never had alcohol before.  And besides, today was basically my cheat day.

We got wasted while we watched TV, and we did some things that I probably wouldn’t admit to anyone but him.  I couldn’t help it though.  I hadn’t gotten laid all weekend and it was my birthday.  Quite frankly, I deserved it.  Thankfully Cody took one for the team.  He said it wasn’t weird because we’ve definitely done it before and that it was our secret.  I had to give him credit.  His tight hole is better than most girls’.  I didn’t know he was a bottom until tonight.  I also didn’t remember having a dick this big, but you don’t see me complaining.  After all was said and done, I passed out drunk next to him in his bed, our bodies drenched in sweat and each other’s fluids, as I enjoyed the bromance I have with my best bro.  This was the best birthday ever.

The next day, I got up extra early to go for a run despite my hangover.  Afterwards I went to school, but like usual, I struggled to pay attention.  It was like my mind was in a constant fog.  My grades are slipping and this football scholarship is the only thing keeping me from dropping out entirely.  After classes, I joined Cody and the others at practice.  Throughout the day, I kept getting this feeling of uh…dayjah voo?  That word that means that you feel like you’ve done something before.  I wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from.  I shrugged it off.  I was just a jock and I didn’t need to worry about stuff like that.

When I got home, I got an offer for the game Cody gave me.  You know, AlterEgo.  Some nerd seriously offered $1000 for it.  I didn’t actually know it was that rare.  I hope he enjoys it more than I did.  I’ll sure enjoy the 1000 dollars.  I bet he’ll love passing it around to all his other geeky friends.  I wonder what their AlterEgos might look like…

[brooooswriting]

Hi! Could you please write a Leighton x r where r has too much to drink and forgets that Leighton is their gf and they are all flirty

My idiot

(Not the biggest fan of this one)

You’ve always been in flirt, ever since high school that was what people knew you as. It wasn’t really intentional, more just your personality and sure, sometimes it was just fun. College started the same way, you flirted here and there on purpose and the rest of the time it was just your personality.

At least until you ended up with Leighton. You didn’t change your personality but you kept it down and never flirted with anyone, but her of course, on purpose. She didn’t expect you to change and she thought it was kinda funny when people thought you were flirting with them right in front of her.

“I’m so hyped for this party” Bella told you four as you stood in their dorm with a shot in hand. All of you cheered as you were just as hyped, it had been way too long since the last one.

“Me too, but she should still drink responsibly” Kimberly said as you immediately refilled the glasses. You knew that she only meant it in a good way and you loved her for that, she was a great friend but you were going to a frat party and that was only possible if you were drunk.

“Kimberly, love, take this and shhh” you smiled kindly as she laughed. She knew you didn’t mean it in a rude way as you gave her a warm smile and she took the shot like you told her to.

“Damn, this queue is way too long” Whitney whined, earning a sigh from Bella before she suddenly gasped. And a gasping Bella was never a good thing, not once.

“I have an idea” she started and carefully looked at Leighton which made you even more weary of the idea. “Leighton, don’t kill me. But y/n should go up there and flirt us in” you could see Kimberly’s breath hitch and yours did too.

“I mean if it’s okay for y/n and he doesn’t touch her” you were surprised but only gave them a nonchalant nod as you were fine with whatever. “Well, go get us in baby” she pressed a couple of kisses to your lips before letting you off.

It didn’t take you longer than 5 minutes to get all of you in. Now you had to make sure that you weren’t going to see him in the house again as that would be more than uncomfortable but at least Leighton didn’t have to stand in the cold air anymore with her short black dress.

“Omg y/n, let’s get shots” Lila said as soon as you walked in which made all of you laugh. You gave her a nod before turning to your group.

“You guys want one too?” As all of them nodded you wandered off with your friend to get them. But you should have known that Lila wasn’t gonna let you off that easily.

“Can we have 10 shots please?” Lila asked the ‘bartender’ who quickly handed them to her.

“The fuck are you gonna do with 10 shots buddy?” You laughed.

“The question isn’t what I’m gonna do with it, the question is what we are gonna do with it. And we are gonna drink 2 each now and then we can go back and you can drink one with your girl” you would have loved to fight her but it would have been useless. So you clicked the cups and downed both of them shortly after another.

“I’m never getting drinks with you again” you laughed as you took the rest of the shots and went to find your group. “Ah, here we are. One for each” you handed out the shots until all of you had one, so you could settle next to Leighton your hand resting on her lower back.

Lila said something inappropriate as a toast and all of you downed the shots. “Why were you guys gone so long?” Your girlfriend asked as she leaned into you.

“Lila made me take two shots right there” you giggled, the alcohol hitting you slightly. You could feel the blondes snort against your body which made you smile wider.

“Leigh, can you wingman me?” Bella asked her once she spotted a dude she liked. You gave her a short nod when she asked if it was okay to leave you for a moment and kissed her before also wandering off.

“Y/n, didn’t think I’d see you here” Caneen greeted you as you nearly ran into you. “Come and be my beer pong partner” he dragged you away before you could say anything.

Once you won the game, you looked around to find your girlfriend send you a look clearly asking for help as somebody kept chewing off her ear. You excused yourself from the game and walked up to her, your hand wrapping around her waist. “Sorry, can I steal my girl really quick?” You didn’t waist for an answer, just pulling her away by her waist. “Jeez, that guy was boring” you whispered into her ear as you pulled her further which made her laugh.

“You’ve only listened to him for a couple of seconds, he was talking for like 10 minutes before you came” she groaned which made you laugh as you finally arrived at a secluded, quieter corner.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you the whole night. You look really hot in that dress” you grinned. Leighton leaned against the wall as your hands caressed her waist, sometimes dipping down a bit.

“Mhm, how hot do I look?” She flirted. You started to kiss her, leading you two to make out for a moment. The alcohol made you more needy as you have barely seen each other the whole time. But it seems like it wasn’t over as there suddenly was a knock on the door.

“Y/n, Caneen is down there about to get in a fight. Come and calm him down, that idiot isn’t listening to me” Lila screamed making you sigh as you had to pull away.

“We are just too popular” you joked to Leighton who also groaned and buried her face in your neck. “I’m coming L” you gave her another kiss before walking downstairs with the other girl. You calmed down the situation as you pulled the man away and promised him more drinking. Stupid decision.

The next thing you really remember was seeing a really really pretty and hot blonde girl dancing with an Indian girl and two other people whose backs were facing you. “Lla, m gna get ‘at grl over there” you slurred pointing to the woman which made your drinking partner gasp.

“You wkd mije such a hot couple” she slurred just as much as you did. You walked off to find the pretty girl and talk to here.

“Hey there” you said with the most charming smile you could muster and you were more than happy to see that she smiled back as she greeted you. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and that if you’re single I’d love to have your number” she stared at you for a moment deciding whether you were really too drunk to know that she was your girlfriend or if you were kidding.

“Are you being serious?” She asked, her eyes scanning your face as she and Whitney had to hold in their laughs. You gave her a nod as you slightly leaned against Lila who was just as drunk.

“Yeah, I mean I can only imagine that your personality is just as beautiful as you. So can I have your number cause I lost mine” you flirted again, Lila adding a ‘period’ which made Whitney break. She had to take a step back as she laughed.

“I’m sorry but I got a girl, her name is y/n” Leighton said seriously and watched your face fall before it suddenly lit up again.

“My name is y/n” you suddenly exclaimed, a happy look on your face that then fell again. “What’s her last name?”

“Oh it’s Y/l/n” the blonde was actually amazed. How were you so damn drunk?

“Damn she’ll never be as good as this girl bitch. She’s the one” Lila hyped you up as you gave the hot girl a sad smile.

“Well, I wish you all the best” you mumbled and were about to turn before the girl next to you suddenly gasped.

“Oh my god, Y/n that’s your last name. You’re y/n y/l/n” now it was your time to gasp which ultimately made your girlfriend break out in laughter.

“I’m your girlfriend?”

“Yes, yes you are” she couldn’t help but giggle when she saw how big your eyes were as you stared down at her with love.

“Damn I’m lucky, you’re so hot”

“I’m the greatest wingman ever. Now I’m gonna find someone hot, so bye bitches”

Once Lila’s support was gone you had a hard time standing which the blonde seemed to notice as she put her hands on you to support your weight. “Would your heart skip a beat too if we kissed now?” You flirted again, your brows raised a bit as you bit your lip.

She snorted a bit and nodded before hoisting your arm around her so she could walk with you. “Let’s go back” she said, not yet walking as she wanted you to be ready.

“Can I follow you home? My parents told me to follow my dreams” it was hard to make out your slurred words but she still could which made her laugh even more.

“Sure, let’s go” with her arm around yours waist she led you to say goodbye to her roommates before walking out with you.

“Who would have thought that I’d leave the party with the prettiest girl?” You asked, your voice was so genuine that it did in fact make her heart skip a beat. Sure, she knew that you loved her and that you thought she was pretty but the fact that even when you were black out drunk and couldn’t realize who she was, you’d always come to her.

“You’re an idiot” she mumbled with a smile that even showed her teeth. You didn’t hear her as you kept on talking about how pretty she was. Once she finally got you into her dorm she gave you your pjs that you left at hers. As she moved to help you change you suddenly pulled back.

“No! I got a girlfriend! Don’t touch me” you grumbled as your back was turned towards her. Your shirt came off easily but you struggled with the clip of your bra as you just couldn’t coordinate your hands so she stepped closer to do it for you. “Don’t touch me! I’m taken”

“Y/n, baby. It’s me, Leighton?” She immediately heard you sigh happily as you turned your head to look at her, which was followed by a happy smile. Once you have her the okay she opened your bra and helped you put on your top. The moment you were changed you fell into her bed, burying yourself in the pillows and the thick comforter. It didn’t take long for the blonde to join and you clung on to her as soon as possible.

She knew that tomorrow your headache was going to kill you and that you weren’t going to remember most of the night. But the memory of you trying to hit on her because you couldn’t remember that you guys were dating was going to stay forever. And she’s never let you forget it, ever.

[hyuckiefluff]

drunk in you | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers word count: 1.9k ish warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, suggestive language, reader is down bad for mark (aren’t we all), implications of drunk sex summary: was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol. author's note: i’m backk!! srry for disappearing for *checks calendar* two months lol this has been sitting in my drafts since mark cut his hair aaand i wanted to post it for his bday so let’s pretend im not 3 days late! HAPPY BDAY MARKIEEE <33 it’s a bit short cuz i felt like i’d have to make a second part if i wanted to add smut to yknow fully get into it lol idk but consider this a little teaser and if it doesn’t flop I’ll post a second part :)

part 2

A sudden burst of bright light pierced through your closed eyelids, jolting you awake from the deep sleep you were in. As you gradually became aware of your surroundings, you couldn't ignore the soreness in your muscles and the strange stickiness between your legs. However, it was the foreign hand resting right on top of your ass that sent alarm bells ringing through your mind. Your eyes shot open, and regret instantly washed over you as a pulsating pain hammered at your head.

"What the fuck..." you groaned, attempting to focus your blurry vision and make sense of the situation. Upon looking around, you realized that you were in the guys' dorm, more specifically, in Mark's room...

Then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

If you were in Mark's room, then that hand... and the body it belonged to, had to be...

Oh my god, what happened last night?

8 hours earlier…

Drinking with your friends after a grueling week at uni wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. In fact, it'd be weirder if you were cooped up at home worrying about midterm grades instead of laughing your head off at whatever Jeno just blurted out. First sign that you were drunk, the boy wasn’t even that funny. His neck and ears were flushed crimson, a clear sign that he, too, had indulged in one too many drinks. And there was Jisung, practically glued to Jeno's side, oozing a whole lot of gooey affection that he would vehemently deny once he sobered up. 

Renjun and Haechan were locked in a heated argument on the floor, their voices rising in the air over some trivial matter that would probably be forgotten by morning. Surprisingly, though, they seemed to be the least intoxicated among you. 

Meanwhile, Jaemin was frantically rummaging through the kitchen, his frustrated groans and curses echoing throughout the room. It was clear that his search for more alcohol was proving to be a fruitless endeavor.

Beside you, Chenle was on his phone, engrossed in a replay of the Warriors game. At first glance he doesn’t look drunk, but you knew better. If he were truly sober, he'd be shouting and cursing at his phone screen, venting his frustrations as his beloved team struggled to keep up. Instead, he was lazily sipping from his nearly empty cup while his glossed over eyes remained glued to the screen.

Mark Lee was the only one missing from the group. You sent him a few voice messages letting him know that if he didn’t arrive in the next 10 minutes you would eat his portion of the kimchi jiggae you’d ordered earlier. He responded within seconds with a funny GIF that showed a man running and tripping.

Mark stumbled through the door just a few minutes later. He was soaked from head to toe, his hoodie covering most of his head. He was panting and his shoes were muddy and wet, he got rid of them in the entrance and looked up, clearly out of breath.  But you were already stuffing your face with his food anyways. Whoops. 

Though as soon as he pulled down the hood a chunk of food went down the wrong pipe. You coughed uncontrollably, your chest heaving as you desperately tried to regain your breath.

"Dude!! Are you seriously eating my food?" he exclaimed.

But when he noticed your struggling state, his words trailed off, replaced by genuine worry. "Yo, are you good?" he asked, walking closer to you and patting you in the back.

You managed to nod weakly, staring up at him. 

"Why’re you so late? Oh, new haircut?" Haechan chimed in from the floor.

"Yeah... what's the verdict?" Mark asked, turning his head to the side to better show off the lines of his undercut, his gaze lingering on you. 

So many thoughts raced through your mind but you were unable to form a single word. Mark had had long hair for quite some time now, and it was you who had encouraged him to let it grow. You enjoyed styling it, braiding it, and adorning it with charms—Mark gave you the freedom to do whatever you pleased with his hair. You had grown fond of his long hair, especially after helping nurse it back to health from the damage caused by bleaching and dyeing. Yet now he was sporting short hair and an undercut with edgy designs on the side, and you couldn't help but openly ogle at him. 

He looked hot as fuck.

It’s true that you harbored feelings for Mark that went beyond friendship but you were always able to hide it well and it worked out better this way for both of you (or that’s what you liked to believe). Needless to say you liked him a lot and had for a while so the sight of his new look had sent your emotions spiraling. He showed up merely minutes ago and you already felt so weak at the knees and your brain was fuzzy even though you hadn’t drank that much yet.

"Don't like it," you muttered, hoping your words would deflect attention from the clear shift in your expression. Turning around, you sought refuge on the couch next to Chenle, placing the bowl of food aside. Your stomach was turning weirdly, making it impossible to swallow another bite.

You scolded yourself inwardly for being so dramatic. It was just a haircut. But, god, he looked so good.

In an attempt to calm yourself down, you chugged your cup with soju and let out a big groan after emptying it. The sound catching Chenle’s attention as he peered curiously from his phone. You offered him a closed-lip smile, prompting an intrigued eyebrow raise from him.

Mark was awkwardly standing on the same spot. He was a bit taken aback by your sudden coldness. He definitely picked up on your strange reaction the moment he walked through the door. But he brushed it off.

"Okaay… Well I was late 'cause I was getting the good stuff," Mark explained, his frown replaced by a grin as he pulled out a beer from the bags he was carrying.

"Let's goooo!" Jaemin yelled, returning from the kitchen right on cue as if he some sort of alcohol detector. He eagerly snatched the bags from Mark and made a kissy face to the boy.

The tension eased a bit with Jaemin's infectious enthusiasm, and you decided to not focus on whatever Mark was making you feel right now. The drinks were here, and the good times were about to roll. You made a mental note to sort out your feelings later.

~

Alcohol definitely did not make your situation better. The more you drank the harder it was to keep your thoughts at bay. Mark was now sitting on the single couch in front of you and every little expression or movement he made had you either biting your lip or pressing your thighs together.

Talking about thighs… the shorts he was wearing displayed his muscular legs in a way that was making it quite impossible for you to not devour them with your eyes. God, your brain had turned into that of a hormonal teenage boy. Were you seriously staring at his thighs and imagining how it would feel to ride them?

Haechan came over to you and filled your glass with more Soju. You downed it as soon as he was done pouring it, earning you a weird look from Chenle who had been eyeing you ever since Mark arrived. 

"Okay, what's with you?" Chenle mumbled, the words escaping his lips just loudly enough to capture everyone's attention. Considering you had the noisiest group of friends, all eyes turned your way, including Mark's.

Mark seemed to be getting tipsy; you could tell by the way his big, expressive eyes shimmered even more than usual and the faint blush that adorned his cheeks and neck.

"Hmm?" you managed to reply, your gaze still fixated somewhere on Mark's face. You were completely unaware of the intense amount of attention you were giving him, but Chenle, who was relatively more sober than both of you, picked up on it.

"You're literally looking at Mark like you want to eat him," Chenle chuckled, teasingly calling you out.

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Renjun asked, suddenly intrigued by the topic.

"I am?" you replied, sounding genuinely confused, though your heart raced with thoughts you were about to voice out loud. "Uhm… yeah I kinda do..."

An audible gasp followed, and you knew without looking that it came from Haechan.

Mark's expression remained unreadable, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, revealing no discernible emotions. Was he weirded out? Normally, you might have felt self-conscious about blurting out something like that, but alcohol had significantly lowered your inhibitions.

"That's a wild thing to say," Haechan interjected with a mix of shock and amusement. "Do you actually wanna tap that?" He pointed at Mark, who was still gazing at you.

"Very much so," you replied nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather, even though you were openly talking about hooking up with your best friend in front of all your other best friends.

"Why don't you come here then?" Mark's words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but notice the way he shifted, his legs spread invitingly.

You burst into laughter assuming he was only joking to tease you. However, the lack of a reaction from him made you realize he was dead serious. Your eyes locked on his own, reflecting the same desire you had been giving him just moments ago.

The idea of getting up and walking to him, straddling his lap, and kissing him flashed through your mind.

But the moment was interrupted by a voice that snapped both of you out of your trance. "Gross!" Jisung whined, hiding his face in Jeno's back, the older one lazily laughing and patting Jisung's thigh. "Okay, c'mon, I think we've all had enough to drink," he declared, getting up, with Jisung clinging to him. Chenle follow suit also giving you two a slightly disgusted stare.

"Yeah, one more drink for me, and I'm afraid the kimchi jiggae I had earlier might end up all over the carpet," Haechan chimed in, rubbing his stomach before disappearing upstairs.

Renjun also stood up and playfully messed up Mark's hair while saying, "By the way, happy birthday."

You glanced at the table clock and realized it was already 12:01. You had been so excited about Mark's birthday earlier in the day, but the alcohol and the tension between the two of you made you totally forget about it. Gathering your courage, you approached him. He remained sprawled with his legs out, but now he looked up at you, his lips slightly wet, distracting you momentarily.

"Happy birthday, silly," you smiled and awkwardly patted his head, hoping he didn't notice how you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the uncomfortable ache between your legs.

"What did you get me?" he suddenly asked, and you blinked a few times, your brain struggling to register the extremely flirtatious tone he used.

When you didn't respond immediately, he continued, "Because I can think of one thing I want the most right now," lightly grazing your leg with his hand. You didn't flinch or move away.

"R-really? What is it?" you found yourself stuttering, a reaction that would have made you cringe if you were more sober.

"Come here, and I'll show you," he smirked and with little protest from you, he pulled you onto his lap.

a/n: i have a smut scene ready for this (well it’s in my brain but I’ll squeeze it out if u guys want that second part) soooo comment or simply like this so i know the audience wants it

also yes i did change the title of this but pls disregard that lol

© hyuckiefluff

part 2

[zyonsay]

Een Nacht JOOST KLEIN

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: An unplanned encounter led to a fun adventure.

Reader: Male, Tattoed

Warnings: NSFW, Unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol, cigarettes

Now playing: 'One of the girls' by The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp & JENNIE from BLACKPINK

AN: Hello everyone <3 i've been gone for a while and i still dont have much time to write, but i got overcome by my joost klein obsession.. again. I hope y'all enjoy this. I expected to write like 2k words, it ended up being 4,5k. Take care!

#Justice for Joost

...7 Missed Calls from ‘Millie’

Your best friend and roommate had left you hanging for a one-night stand, to put it shortly.

Tonight was Joost Klein’s concert in your area and you had bought these tickets ages ago. Both you and your roomie were huge fans of his music and planned on having the most amazing time ever. That was until she texted you, a few minutes after the time you had planned to meet at.

‘Hey dude, im soooo sorry, but I just met this really amazing dude at the library and I really wanna take him home ymwim?? I hope you still have an amazing time, byeeee!’

Saying you were angry was a brutal understatement. Absolutely fuming fit better. But nevertheless, you had so much fun at the concert. You didn’t need Millie to have a good time, you hope he at least fucked her well if she’s going to miss a Joost Klein concert for that. But this isn’t about Millie, this is about you jumping around all night and screaming your heart out.

All good things must come to an end and so did the concert. Joost thanked the crowd dearly and seemed really happy with the performance. Now that you had gathered your stuff, you pulled out your phone and prepared to walk to the bus station. Should be a 23-minute walk. An interesting insta reel popped up on your phone, your eyes were practically glued to the screen. That was until you inelegantly collided with someone. “Oh, I’m sorry!” You had your phone in a death grip, it had almost dropped to the floor. “My bad, I didn’t look where I was going!” Then you were greeted with the sight of a messy bleach blonde head of hair and two bright, blue eyes. This was Joost Klein himself. +A shy smile crept onto your face; you didn’t know what else to say. “Yeah, I’d be shocked too if I was standing in front of a celebrity.”, his attitude seemed cocky, but in a playful way. He was beaming, his grin as bright as the moon. Without thinking much, you opened your mouth to speak: “haha, exactly.” The sarcasm was dripping from your voice. “You seem happy, the concert went really well.”, you offered him a genuine smile. “Yes! I loved the crowd.”, his eyes lit up, “the numbers could be better though, at least my manager says so. But that’s just how the art industry is.” He kept rambling to you like he already knew you for ages. “Sorry, you probably don’t care. Oh yeah, and I forgot to ask for your name.” Joost lazily smiled at you. “I’m Y/n. I totally get that thing about the numbers. It’s difficult when you’re doing art as a job.” His gaze softened slightly. “It’s hard bringing in new fans when there are new artists every day. There’s always a younger, more talented artist out there.” His smile turned into a rather sad one, maybe he wasn’t so happy after all? “But I think you got something special going. Something different than those soundcloud rappers, you know?”, you chuckled lightly, “I think your music is true art.” For a moment he seemed to taste your words on his tongue. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a while. “You seem like you do art too?”, Joost raised an eyebrow in genuine curiosity. “Yeah, I’m not that relevant though.” An awkward feeling crept over you; you scratched the back of your neck. “Ah, I don’t wanna hear it.” He barely let you finish your sentence. “I bet your really talented. I mean just your vibe right now!” Joost was now standing pretty close to you. He tended to close the distance between him and the person he’s talking to. Personal space is not in his vocabulary.

A quick glance to your phone screen revealed that your bus was about to leave in three minutes. Doesn’t matter, you’re striking up a good conversation with one of your favorite singers right now. “That’s so nice of you. People rumor that you’re kinda rude, but I haven’t seen any of that yet.” The left corner of his lips curled up, that was probably not the first time he heard about that rumor. “That’s because a lot of people who meet me say the dumbest things I’ve ever heard and then get mad when I don’t answer nicely.” He then intently looked at your eyes. “But you haven’t said anything bad yet.” Now he was smiling brightly again. “Hmm, so I gotta try harder to get on your bad side huh?”, he chuckled heartily. “You’re chill. I like you, I don’t get that with most people I meet.” He for sure is a big personality. “Oh my god, you should totally get your nose pierced. Would suit your look!” Admittedly, you have been thinking about getting a septum for a while now. But until shortly ago, you were working an excruciating office job, where piercings, colorful hair, gel nails and tattoos were strictly forbidden. That didn’t stop you from getting inked though. You waited to do your arms until you quit your job, but otherwise your whole body was littered with small and relatively big tattoos.

“I already got a few tattoos though; I worked an office job until recently. Getting a new piercing would’ve been difficult to hide.” Joost curiously eyed you, in search of any tattoos that might be exposed at the moment. “What kind of tattoos do you have then?”, he caught a glimpse of some ink under your shirt. “Loads actually. But my first one was a moth under my chest, I really like that one.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah? Let me see.” You could see right through him but decided to entertain his idea for a minute. Pulling down the hem of your loose button up, whose top few buttons were undone, you revealed a small part of the moth’s wings and head. With a gentle grin you declared that he would have to pay to see more. His smile now turned into a light smirk. “How much would I need to pay to see the rest?” Quickly, you quipped back: “How much does a drink in this town cost?” He now inches slightly away from you, he was all up in your space until now. “A drink, huh?”, he mused, “I’ll buy you the whole damn bottle.”

Joost guided you to one of his favorite bars in the area. His hand was on the small of your back when you two enterer the establishment, which seemed slightly out-of-place for a first meeting. “You know, I’ve never paid so much to see a tattoo before.” He teased while he ordered a bottle of vodka and two glasses. You really hope he wasn’t a creep, cuz this seemed like a red flag. “I must be pretty special then”, you grinned while ogling the clear liquid. The blond was now swirling the vodka in his glass. He chuckled, “Yeah I’d say you’re pretty special.” Then he avoided your gaze. He was wondering how the rest of that tattoo looked like. And maybe it wasn’t the only thing he’d get to see tonight.

The swig you took from your glass made you grimace. Vodka was one of your top alcohols, but you had to be honest with yourself and admit it tastes like hand sanitizer. “Don’t tell me it’s too strong for you.”, he teasingly smiled at you. His blue eyes darted towards your hand, which was resting atop the wooden bar. In a smooth motion, he interlinked his pinky with yours. ‘Drink je moed met alcohol’ or whatever the saying is. Nevertheless, Joost felt more forward now. Maybe it was the vodka, maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled. But the alcohol for sure gave him an extra bravado. He carefully inched closer to you. You could tell he was getting a bit woozy, even if he was lazily smiling at you. “You ok?”, a small chuckle escaped you. He intertwined his hand fully with yours now. The look in his face was soft and affectionate. A bit wobbly, but very sweet. You got a bit closer; the tips of your noses were almost touching. Only a few centimeters apart. Joost kept his eyes fixated on you, his breath hitched. His ice blue eyes seemed to roam you whole face. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, the proximity was intoxicating to him. Joost’s eyes fluttered shut and you waited for a few seconds, messing with the dutchman in front of you. His eyes opened again and saw you grinning teasingly at him. “Really? We’re doing this now?” A hint of disappointment flashed across his face for a split second, but soon after mischievousness played in his eyes.

The two of you seemed to be getting along well, chatting and laughing with each other which felt like hours on end. Your knee was now touching Joosts and his hand has landed on your thigh. He slightly squeezed it, trying to give you a signal of what he wanted. “What?”, you grinned knowingly. The blond playfully huffed but the smile on his face remained. “You know what.” He tried to play it cool, but the intent look in your dark eyes made his adrenaline levels shoot through the roof. Sneakily, you slid a hand behind Joost’s neck. “I’m usually not into blondes.” With that you caught his lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. The man practically melted into your touch, he held onto your shoulder as if he’d fall off the barstool if he didn’t. Maybe it was the alcohol or the massive interest he had for you, but Joost was kissing you fervently. A desperate noise escaped him. One of your hands rested on his chest, you could feel his heart beating rapidly. As you parted lips, Joost tried to calm his erratic heart. Suddenly feeling a bit shy, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. His cologne smelled amazing, even after messing around on stage the whole evening. The huffs of your hot breath sent shivers down his spine. He gently kissed your neck, you gasped and flushed ever so slightly. The bastard even slid a hand under your shirt, feeling your lower back. You let the hand on his chest wander a bit, earning a content gasp. “I’m loving this, but can we go somewhere more… private?” Joost let out a small laugh. “Yeah of course! My place or yours?”, he grinned at you. “My roommate is probably getting laid right now, so could we go to your place?”, he nodded with a sweet, drunken smile. “I’d love to take you to mine. It’s just a few minutes away from here actually.”

Either he was very bad at math, drunk or both at the same time. The apartment building was at least a 18-minute walk outside the city center. The breeze messing with your hair was fresh, a shiver ran down your spine. Joost risked a glance over at you from time to time, his stomach was churning with an excited flutter. Even though your gaze was directed straight ahead, you noticed the blond eyeing you. The faintest shade of rose feathered your cheeks, you bit the inside of your lip from nervousness. That didn’t go unnoticed, as Joost laughed brightly while pulling you into a side hug, still keeping up the pace. “You’re so flustered.”, he chuckled. Playfully, you slapped his arm. “Quit it.”, his smile widened and for a moment it seemed as if the sun was shining. “Try and make me.”, now his expression turned devious. “I’ll make you regret being this cocky.”, a pleased smile spread across your face. He wanted to provoke you a tiny bit more. “I’d love to see you try.” He brought you both to a halt in front of a building and opened the door. Joost looked at you and brought a hand to the small of your back. “Let’s get inside.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you up the staircase to the door of his apartment. His hands were slightly shaky from anticipation and the keys in his hand rattled and clinked.

After a few seconds he had finally unlocked the door and led you in, he didn’t bother to flick the light on. You turned around, faced with Joost’s back, a click indicated that he had closed the door. You slide your arms around his torso and press up against him. His breath hitched as you began trailing sweet kisses down his jaw and neck. Joost, now reddened and smiling lazily, turned around and slid his hands down to hold your hips. His scent was fogging up your mind, and you couldn’t help but be excited. Once again, you pecked his neck, occasionally nipping at the skin. To give you more room, he tilted his head ever so slightly. A content huff escaped him as you bit down harder, now having found his sweet spot. “Not so cocky now, huh?”, you chuckled before continuing your shenanigans. Joost let his head rest against the wall behind him and let out a small needy sound. He placed a hand on your shoulder, to steady himself. His breath was rugged, and his skin felt as if it was on fire. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”, he whispered before letting his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder. When releasing your hold on him, you were greeted by two dilated eyes. “Let me be good to you.”, his voice was breathy, and his hair was messed up. “Let me take charge for a bit.”, he pressed the sweetest kiss to your lips. You quietly hummed as he began nipping at your neck, but before you could enjoy it more, he gently pulled you towards, presumably, his bedroom.

He gently pushed you onto his bed, you gladly let yourself fall backwards. “There we go.”, he murmured as he glanced down at you, splayed out. A possessive glint played in his eyes. With a tilt of your head, you invited him. You wouldn’t have to ask him twice, he quickly got on the bed with you. In a swift motion, he straddled you and placed his hand on your chest. You slide your hands up his legs and let them rest on his hips. Joost softly moans into the sweet kiss he embraced you in. He enjoys the heat and friction from his body being pressed down on top of you. His lips taste like cherry bubblegum from the local kiosk, you deepen the kiss as the blond grasps your shoulders. Carefully, you broke the kiss and tugged on his shirt. “Get rid of that. “, you groaned at the hot feeling spreading over your skin. His gaze darkened at the command, and he slowly leaned back. He lifted the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head, then tossed it away. A cheeky grin was now plastered onto his face, you slid your hands up his body, feeling his abs. “Thank you.”, he laid his hand atop yours, which was still resting on his body. “But you’re pretty hot too.” Now his hands slid under your shirt. “How about you take yours off as well? I need to see more of you.”, a small hum erupted from your throat, and you began peeling your shirt off. “You really wanna see that tattoo, huh?”, he nodded with a small smile. The fabric hiding the big moth was now gone and revealed its true beauty. It was a deaths-head hawkmoth, its wings were detailed and shaded amazingly, he could tell that your tattoo artist was a master of his craft. Joost’s eyes widened for a split second as soon as he saw how many tattoos were littered over your torso. He didn’t expect that many, but oh god they looked good on you. “You have no idea how good you look with all this ink.”, he ran a hand down your arm, feeling its muscles and gently rubbing the skin. “Really?”, you tried smiling innocently, but it came out looking more like a cheeky grin. “Makes me want you so bad.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the weak light of the moon made his blond hair look silvery. You delicately whispered back. “You can have me.”

Now he felt the heat rise inside him. His lips ghosted over yours, meanwhile he was fiddling with the stall of your pants. With a sense of confidence, he bit your lower lip, not enough to hurt you, but enough to show you that he was in charge now.

Once again, he nipped at your neck, but traveled down to your collarbone, your chest, your stomach and finally to the hem of your pants. Your head was tipped back in pleasure and the occasional groan left you. What you couldn’t see was him smiling up at you, enjoying the view. The soft moonlight painted milky stripes along your muscles. Joost planted a kiss on your hip before leaving bites around the waistband of your pants. He had already opened the button and zipper of your garment and now he pulled them off, tossing them aside. With the gentlest hands he caressed your thigh. A gaze to your thigh revealed even more tattoos, an elegant snake was swirled around your leg, entangled with the leaves of an olive tree. The dutch grinned slightly, then began leaving kisses and sweet bites over your thighs, he was burning up now. His hand slid upward on your thigh, though this time he was messing with the fabric of your briefs. He only chuckled lightly, before biting down harder. A soft whine escaped you, while he slowly pulled your boxers off. Then he sat back, waiting for a reaction. “Don’t tease, I’ll make you regret it.”, your threat sounded more playful than anything. He offered you a small, challenging grin as his fingers slid back up to your hips, where he let them rest. “Yeah exactly, what are you gonna do?” You groaned. “Keep going if you wanna find out.”

He leaned down and trailed kisses over your inner thigh, his hands roamed over your body, slowly making their way towards your crotch. Brushing over the tip of your length, he hummed in contentment. Your eyes fluttered shut, you couldn’t help but twitch at the contact. He rubbed his thumb over the slit, licked his lips, then wrapped his fingers around your length. His soft hands felt like heaven to you, his motions steady and gentle. Occasionally +he teased your tip with his thumb, enjoying your expressions. “Bet you rail some guy after all your concerts.”, a teasing smile appeared on your lips. “You’d be correct to think so, yeah.”, he hummed with a sly grin. He stroked you at a slow but firm pace. “Are you trying to rile me up with that?”, he then mused a chuckle. Despite your currently… pathetic state, you mustered to spit out: “I’d never. Just making sure you’ll remember me very time from now on.” He sped up a little. “Oh trust me, I’ won’t be forgetting you anytime soon.” Leaning in, he took the tip into his mouth. “Fu-uck”, you stammered. The warm, wet feeling of his mouth could’ve made you cum right then and there. One of your hands reached down to entangle itself into Joost’s blond strands. The mans breath hitched as he felt your hand in his hair, it sent tingles down his spine. He swirled his tongue around your tip, sucking gently while looking up at you. His hands held your hips firmly in place. “Didn’t know your mouth was good at anything other than singing.” Joost’s eyes crinkled at your comment. With a quiet ‘plop’ sound, he released your member. “I can promise you, it’s good at other things.” He muttered before tending to your length again, this time maintaining eye contact with you. The sight alone almost tipped you over the edge, his icy blue eyes were glossy, and his blond lashes framed them perfectly. Joost’s eyes flickered down, he noticed how you started to twitch lightly. He took you in deeper, focusing on the sensation in his mouth. The way his tongue swirled on the underside of your shaft made your vision go blurry, you felt a feeling tightening and coiling in your stomach. “I’m so close.”, you whispered desperately. Little did you know that he had other plans. Once again, he removed himself from your pulsing member, a string of saliva connecting to his lip. You ran a hand trough your hair, while your chest was sinking and rising with heavy breaths. Joost backed up slightly, removing any remaining clothes, then focusing on your figure again. He gently straddled you, his own length rubbing against yours, not without a sharp hiss from you though. “Hop on, let me treat you right.”, your muscles tensed from anticipation. A low groan escaped the blond, he nodded quickly before sitting up. With utmost care, he positioned himself and slowly sat down as he felt you push inside of him. He gasped at the overwhelming feeling, and you rested your head against the pillows, it was too much and not enough at the same time. Gently, he started slowly rocking his hips against yours, he bit down on your shoulder to muffle his soft moans. Feeling a bit revengeful, you bucked upwards, earning a loud gasp from the other man. A loud moan escaped him, and his body shuddered and tingled, he slightly sped up his rocking. Your warm hands trailed up to his hips, helping him steady his movement. Empty threats were never something you made, so you decided to go all out. In a swift motion you had basically thrown Joost off and positioned yourself over him, prodding at his entrance with your dick. He groaned and gasped at the sudden manhandling; a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. “That’s for teasing me.” He wrapped his legs around your waist, while letting out a breathless moan.  Without much care, you pushed into him, setting a relatively fast pace. The dutch groaned at the rough treatment and you felt him dig his nails into your back and leave long scratches along it. “You’re so g-ood.”, his voice broke slightly, he was panting heavily. “I said I’d make you remember me.” Even in this pathetic state, he chuckled.

With his arms slung around your shoulder, he cried out in pleasure, small pearly tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Fuck. I will.”, his eyes were glossy. Once again, he bit down on your neck, leaving yet another dark hickey. Bitten off moans slipped out of him; he was pretty sure both of your hips would be bruised after this night. The room was filled with breathy moans and gasps, along with the constant sound of skin slapping against skin. Joost was completely lost in the moment, he loved how you took control. “See who’s not being so cocky anymore?”, you teased. “Shush.” His head lolled back in pleasure. You snuck a hand around his throat, threatingly gripping it with very little pressure. “You’re not the one giving orders.” A shiver of excitement ran trough Joost’s veins, he ever so slightly arched his back, pressing his body closer to yours. “Now shut up and take it.”, your hips snapped against Joost’s, and his groans became even weaker. The pleasure was building up in his stomach, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle it. His vision went blurry, and his body tensed up, his nails dug deep into your skin, leaving bloody scratched all over your back. “Fuuuuuuck”, he moaned against your collarbone. Warm, milky white cum shot out of his length, all over his stomach and chest, you yourself quickly pulled out and dropped the load on top of his. “Messy Boy.”, you whispered.

He laid there for a few minutes, panting heavily and feeling utterly spent. You grabbed a random t shirt on the bed and wiped him clean. With a good wash it’ll be as good as new, you thought. Gentle to not disturb him too much, you laid on top of him, resting your head against his chest. He let out a small huff, then wrapped his arms around you. “I’m going to feel this all day tomorrow…”, he mumbled. “Then I did it right.”, you closed your eyes, enjoying his warm breath trickling down your face and neck. Joost hadn’t seen the tattoo on your back before but was admiring it now. It was another snake, wrapping around a big dagger with various decorations on it. He ran a hand over it, feeling the skin he had scratched open around it. “So, you like it een beetje ruw?”, he whispered. “Ja but I can be sweet too.” Joost chuckled. You looked up again, enveloping him in a genuine, gentle kiss. Brushing a stray hair away, you caressed his cheek. The blond hummed lightly, his heart fluttering at the tender kiss. His lips curled up into a sweet smile. “Just for some people though.”, you grinned cheekily.

After having thrown on your briefs, you had retrieved your pants and began rummaging the pockets. “Can we go out to the balcony? I’d like to have a smoke.” Joost raised an eyebrow while his smile revealed his dimples. “Cigs after a good lay, huh?”, he began to fumble around in his bedside drawer, trying to find his own pack. “They’re on me, owe you after that.”, you giggled. Joost opened the slide door and led you outside. The atmosphere was calm, the two of you sat down on the floor. You held out your pack to the man, before taking a cigarette for yourself. He put it between his lips, waiting for you to light it. His eyes watched your face closely. After having his cigarette lit, Joost leaned against the balcony railing, enjoying the fresh breeze. You looked over the city while the smoke mingled as they both exhaled. Joost reached out and tangled his hand with yours. “You’re so pretty.”, you mumbled absently, watching a few blonde hairs follow the flow of the wind, his hair was all messed up, but he looked perfect. The tips of his hair looked almost white in the moonlight. “I’m usually not into blondes.”, you ruffled up his hair. “Hey!”, he cried out, but he quickly reached for your hair in an attempt at revenge. You gladly lowered your head, letting him do whatever he wants. Instead of messing up your whole hair, like you though he would, he gently combed trough it with his fingers. It felt soothing, you leaned into his touch and ended up flopping your upper body down into his lap. He couldn’t help but chuckle, “Comfy?”

A pleased hum escaped you, moments like these should last forever.

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 7

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Brief suggestive content. Angst, anxiety, self loathing, relationship issues. Darling is her own tag/warning. Panic attack, eating related issues, fainting. Emotional hurt/comfort, fluff. Established throuple. It's better when they're here.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Kyle grins in response, and then pulls you in for a hug. His face is full mirth, his cheer warming you from the inside, and you embrace him in return. 

“’bout time they bring you out here. No reason to hide you away all this time.” Something nervous, a light giggle, slips out from between your lips, your eyes rolling in an exaggerated fashion. Johnny's hand flexes against the base of your spine. 

“Gaz.” Simon sighs, and he barks out a laugh before turning back to you. 

“Try not to let these two bore ya to death.” He whispers, before giving them both a nod and ducking down the hall. He makes absolutely no noise, feet silent against the floor, practically disappearing before your eyes, shadow here then gone, presence felt, and then void, all at once.

“He’s nice.” You look up at the two of them. Johnny chuckles, amusement scrawling across his lips and cheeks as he wraps his arm around your waist. 

“Don’t let him fool ye.” He quips and you frown, confused.

“Gaz is… very, very good at his job. One of the best there is, I’d say.” Simon explains gently, and then your stomach sours, because you remember.

What they do. What their jobs are. Why you’re even here in the first place. You’ve never asked for in-depth detail or explanations, but you’ve heard enough, know enough, to know.

He turns the lock and pushes their door open, giving you a view into their room, a short hall that expands out to something that looks like a college dorm, except maybe a bit bigger. It’s got all the similarities though, cinderblocks and an old, tiled floor, singular window and a bit of an odd smell.

“So, this is your room?”

“Aye. We’ve got a big bed, mostly thanks to Si, and a little more space than everyone else on this floor but, this is it.” It’s sparse too, no pictures or personal items, nothing that looks like or resembles them except…

There’s a bulletin board, hanging on the wall above the bed. It’s empty, save for one thing, a photo that’s been stapled to the cork.

It’s of you, this photo, you under a white sheet, smiling at Simon, who’s behind the camera, with just the shadow of Johnny’s hand along your upper arm. It was taken last year, you can tell, because you recognize the style of your hair from that time, and you stand there for too long, staring at it, mouth partially hanging open, breath held in your lungs.

Nothing in this room that reflects them, or their home, or each other… nothing. Except for a photo of you. 

“Darling?” Simon murmurs, and his chest presses against your back, thumb and forefinger stroking along the back of your neck. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. I… I’m alright.”

“So, like… what is that you guys do?” The question lands to a silent reception, both of them exchanging looks in front of you, almost like you’re not even in the room. You feel awkward, and self-conscious, while they seem to have a silent debate with their eyes.

“We’re in multi-national special ops unit.” Johnny provides, and your eyebrows crease as you process. A what? A multi-national what? You laugh, until you realize their faces are deadly serious.

Wait. Are these guys in the fucking military? 

“Special ops, like… the military special ops?”

“Kind of.”

Oh. 

Fuck. Your cheeks feel hot, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or the topic you’ve stumbled upon, but you swallow loudly as you process it. 

You’re not exactly a huge fan of the military. Not like you really know anything about it, just that most of the wars your own country has been involved in for the last twenty years revolve around oil and imperialism, and all the dudes who serve are abusive and predatory. Assholes. Creeps. 

Or at least, that’s what it’s like where you’re from. 

“She didn’t like that.” Simon murmurs from behind the mask, and Johnny grimaces. 

“Alright?” He hums and a small noise gets stuck in your throat, like you want to say yes, want to say no, like you’re not sure what you want. “We travel a lot, for work. So, we’re not always around… that’s where we’ve been the last few weeks. Working.” The words make your heart skip a beat, and you nod, still processing.

Not always around… not always around. 

So they really aren’t planning on making this a thing, then. The thought stings with bitterness against your tongue, and you shove it away. 

 When you don’t say anything in response, Johnny sighs, and reaches for your hand, fingers curled against your palm in your lap. “How did we get on this subject anyway? We’re supposed to be havin’ some fun.” He smiles, big and warm, sending butterflies spiraling through your stomach and up your spine. 

Simon’s gaze never strays from your face, and his brow furrows, like he’s reading you, or piecing you together. The scrutiny makes you shiver. 

Why are you worrying about it? This is only like the third time seeing them, anyway. You’re getting too attached. You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re just having fun. That’s all it is. 

“Right.” You quip, and then pull your drink towards you before rising from the chair. Your skirt is short, and you realize it’s probably too short when you see Simon’s jaw grinding behind the mask as you turn your body, edge of the fabric brushing against the back of your thighs. His gaze is heavy, it’s hot, and you remember the image of him looking up from between your legs the other night, lower half of his face buried in your cunt, still hidden from view without the scrap of fabric. “So… should we get another round then?” You hold your empty drink, ice clinking against the glass, and Johnny chuckles before standing in front of you, a hand on covetously laying on your waist as his lips brush your cheek. 

“’ll get them, love. You sit.”  

The bed is very, very warm. You don’t even need the duvet and sheet that you have pulled around your shoulders, your hips, but you snuggle down into them farther, breathing in the scent of Johnny’s shampoo, of Simon’s skin.

It all whirs around you in some soft, soothing scented lullaby, and you allow yourself the indulgence, closing your eyes again even though you’ve only just woken from the nap that you slipped into when they left for a meeting.

You’ve managed to trap their body heat beneath the blankets, and you wiggle around until you’re facing the other side, staring at the bulletin board, your own face frozen in time staring back at you.

You look different. You look like you’re in a haze of contented bliss, a peaceful state of happiness, safe and secure, tucked between the two of them without a care in the world.

Why did it change? Who changed it? When? How? 

The questions echo as you piece through the last few months in your mind, trying to place where the original seeds of darkness sprouted from, to find where the murky thoughts and feelings really came from, their roots, their birth.

This process, this seeking, makes your hands shake against the sheets. It makes your legs twitch, feet rubbing against each other while your chest tightens. Dread, panic, shame, all twist and turn through your mind, pinpointing your weaknesses and failures, exposing you to yourself like the fool you are.

They’re trying. Are you? 

You don’t need the answers, not truly. You know where the blame lies. You know what happened. You know the part you played; you know the parts the guys played.

You stare at the wall and try to count the patterns in the concrete, willing your brain to focus, willing yourself to pull up, pull out, put your head on straight. The sound of blood rushing in your ears is deafening, loud enough that you think someone may hear it down the hall. May hear you, succumbing to yourself.

It feels like drowning.

They could pull you out. Simon could fix it. They could make it better. 

But would they? Could he, now? When nothing is the same? 

The memory from leaving the hotel ripples across your heart like a familiar melody, acid burning in your calves as you blink and shudder.

Simon, holding your nape, Johnny, holding you to him in the elevator, in the car.

“Stay with us darling. Stay here. With us.”

You wonder if it will ever be the same again.

You hate this one as much as the last. 

Your mouth pulls into a frown, hands resting on your hips as you stare at the canvas in front of you, rotating your head from left to right, like that will make you see it better. Like that will bring it into focus. 

The colors are wrong. They don’t harmonize, they don’t crest and swell together like you had envisioned. They don’t blend in a cacophony of floral silhouettes like you saw in your mind. 

Instead, they look like a storming sea. Darker hues overpowering the light, like thunder through daybreak. 

Maybe you could fix it? Or maybe, you should just abandon this technique. Maybe you could-

There’s a knock at your door. 

It’s not light, or gentle, but firm, ringing out in rapid succession and you jerk. 

Who could that be? You’re not expecting anyone until- 

Oh. Oh no. Oh god. Oh no, no no. 

Your eyes dart frantically around the art room before you're shoving the two brushes from your hands into a tray and tripping out into your living room. 

“Oh my god.” You gulp out loud to no one but yourself, the person who has spent the last three, possibly four days in a haze, a painting binge, trying to escape the stress of your job, of life, of this… thing that’s going on with Simon and Johnny.

Trying to escape yourself. Your thoughts. Your feelings. 

Your flat expresses it well. You think, possibly, it could appear like it had been ransacked. Your clothes are everywhere. Draped over your tiny loveseat couch, shoved between cushions and pillows. Two-day old toast sits on your kitchen counter, accompanying two, three, four coffee mugs that are filled with varying levels of liquid. Your uneaten dinner from last night sits on a plate next to the trash can, your oats from the other morning sit cold in the sink. 

A prescription bottle that hasn’t been touched in four days, lurks on the kitchen counter with a handwritten note taped beneath it: 

“You HAVE to, or you’ll regret it.” 

Another knock sounds at your door, thumping followed by the sound of your phone vibrating next to the stove.

Your left sock has a swipe of chartreuse across it. Your overalls are tacky with dried paint. You can vaguely feel your hands touching your hair, your neck, hovering above where your heart hammers. 

You can’t let them see you like this. 

They’ve never seen you like this. 

This is supposed to be light. It’s fun. It’s… not real. They’re not with you. They cannot see. 

You take a deep breath. 

Maybe you can pass it off. You can… say you’re sorry for the mess, that you’re sorting through things for donation. And you don’t have to lie about painting. That will explain the clothes. 

You take a breath, and then open the door to find Johnny on the other side, happily smiling at you, mohawk shining in the light of the hall. He looks you up and down briefly, and you freeze, waiting. 

Waiting for him to say something nasty, something hurtful. Waiting for him to reprimand you for failing, to accuse you of being useless, helpless. Waiting for him to tell you he doesn’t have time to deal with this. That you should be better, do a better job of taking care of yourself. 

“- and he’ll just be a minute, but we’re so excited, been thinkin’ about ye all week. We had such a good time before we left, really loved sharing those days with you.” What? You blink. He cocks his head. “Love? Y’alright?” 

“Yeah.” You answer, voice monotone. Somewhere, trapped beneath layers and layers of the worst pieces, you’re screaming. You’re aching. You’re desperate. 

“This all paint?” He motions to the splatters and stains, and you nod robotically. “I remember, you mentioned that last time… that you paint. I uh, draw sometimes.” Of course, he draws. Because he’s beautiful, and perfect. He rubs his neck almost sheepishly before raising an eyebrow at you. 

Oh. Right. 

“D-do you… want to come in?” You offer it meekly. Please say no. say no, say you’ll wait out in there, say you don’t want to. 

“Sure, thanks.” Fuck. He steps by you as you motion, brushing against you closely, close enough that the butterflies flutter and you can feel the heat of him. “This is cozy, yeah?” He gestures to your flat from the kitchen, and you nod again. On autopilot.

All you can see is the food, untouched, uneaten. Evidence of your struggle. A water bottle that’s full to brim. The coffee cups, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to wash. All you can feel is your own skin, dry around your mouth, your nose, and oily everywhere else, your dirty clothes heavy against your body. You can feel your teeth, your tongue, unbrushed, unclean in your mouth, jaw clicking while your grind your molars. 

You shouldn’t have let him in. He’s going to see. He’s going to hate you. Hate this. 

The room spins. 

“Hey,” There’s a hand, on your arm. It’s big and soft, and sweet and you blink again. “Darling.” There it is. That pet name. That nick name. That name that’s quickly becoming your own. The one that makes you feel warm, safe, cherished. The one that makes you feel like this is something more. 

You hate it. 

You love it. 

“What is it?” Johnny’s handsome face peers down at you, concern worrying across his brow. 

“N-nothing.” You try to lead him off, but your breathing stutters through your nose, and he looks alarmed. 

There’s a new knock at your door, heavy and quick, and you both turn to look just as Simon is filling the door frame, half of his face hidden with the black mask that he always wears. 

He watches you. Like a predator. His eyes flick from you, to Johnny, to the kitchen… the living room. 

It's like there’s a train sitting on your chest.

“Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He says softly, clicking the door shut behind him. As soon as it’s secure, the mask comes off, and he’s focused on you, eyes not leaving your face, moving closer and closer until he’s upon you and Johnny, huge hand coming to hold your elbow. “What’s going on?” He murmurs, but it’s not for you. Even if it was, you cannot answer. There’s a train sitting on your chest, after all. 

“Ah dinnae ken.” Johnny answers immediately, while his palm works up and down your arm in a calming pattern. 

“Darling?” Simon cups your cheek. Ever since he showed you his face, he’s been… like this. Intuitive. Too intuitive. Too keen. Like he already knows. Like he’s been waiting. 

“I-“ you try to tell him it’s nothing. That you’re tired. All of your lies flit through your head, the stories you wanted to concoct to explain everything away but nothing comes out. Not even your breath. 

The room spins again, but this time so does your head. The floor feels like it’s tilting, or maybe it’s your feet that are off balance. You’re not sure. You feel light though, like your legs don’t even exist. Like your knees aren’t real.

“Shite.” Johnny swears, and lunges, hands darting out to catch you before the world goes black. 

“Are you asleep?” There’s a whisper, like a soft touch, against your ear. It’s enough to prickle, enough to crack a smile across your lips, and you press your face into the blankets while strong hands shift your hips.

“I dinnae, might be.” Johnny hums, stroking fingertips down your ribs. It tickles, forcing a breathy giggle from your mouth that’s met with another’s, lips moving with yours while you melt away in a pile of partners and pillows.

“How was the meeting?” You whisper. Simon cradles you to his back, warmth bleeding through his shirt to your skin, and you shimmy closer, pressing hard until you’re flush with him, Johnny watching the two of you with heavy lidded eyes.

“Standard.” Simon answers. “Thought about you the whole time.” He kisses your cheek, arm reaching for Johnny who obliges, nestling himself against your chest. You focus on them, taking long, deep breaths, keeping yourself above water, keeping the murky depths at bay, for now.

It’s better, when they’re here. It’s always better, when you’re together.

“Thinkin’ about ye asleep in our bed, bare cunt on our sheets enough to drive me mad.” Johnny groans, fingers skating across your hip bone. You’re not wearing underwear, just a giant sweatshirt, one of theirs, though you’re not sure who’s.

Lust roars to life between your legs, desire, want, has you clenching, but you try shove it away.

It’s too much, too soon. You’re too… off center. You’ll lose yourself. 

But they’re here. They’ll put you back together. Simon won’t let you fall. 

It’s not a good idea. 

You want it. You want them. Need them. 

The back and forth makes your head hurt.

“I- I’m not ready.” You blurt, and he freezes, pulling his hand free immediately but you grab onto it, desperate to have his touch, to feel him.

Guilt burns in your heart.

“Of course, darling.”

“I’m sorry… I want to I just-“

“You never have to apologize.” Simon rumbles and you shake your head.

“I know but, I feel bad. Guilty.”

“Look at me.” He urges, and you shift, all while clutching Johnny’s hand in yours. “We love you. There is nothing for you to feel guilty about. We will be here when you are ready, but there’s no rush.” He strokes a thumb across your cheek, and you lean into it, eyes slipping closed. “I think I’d be more worried if you were ready to jump right into sex, after everything.” Johnny hums his agreement and presses a warm kiss to your shoulder.

“Let’s take a nap then?” He suggests, and you pull his arm to your chest, rocking between the two of them until you’re effectively sandwiched, comfortable, and secure, just the way you like it.

The way you dream about it.

The way you can only hope it might be, from now until forever.

[hyuny-bunny]

cybersex | camgirl! x skz

chapter I • chapter III

MDNI (18+): this series will depict sex work and acts of sex. content warnings will include the following for this chapter: mention of masturbation, oral (m rec), alcohol, p in v (no condom / reader on birth control), cum, creampie/breeding, use of pet names (good boy/puppy), threesome, afab reader

genre: skz x camgirl!reader, use of she/her/hers

wc: 3.5K

Chapter 2

You had stopped by to see Sana at the restaurant tonight while she was having her break. Since you didn’t have an official breakroom, most of the staff would sit in the storage room. You had come in from the alley through the exit and sat chatting away in the storage room. It was far from ideal but the room was quite big, there were tucked away corners stacked with crates no one used that doubled as your chairs. As you caught Sana up on all the moving festivities and the cute downstairs neighbor who always seemed to be heading out as you were coming in, someone walked into the room. You both fell quiet hearing two familiar voices.

“Do you really think it’s her?”

“All the dots connect back to her. Look, she’s been moving into that place all week and it just so conveniently happens to be that KitsuneKitty has been on a break?” You clocked in on Jeongin’s voice, Sana is about to speak but you’re quick to cover her mouth.

“Dude-”

“Hear me out, who else would Sana bring on to her stream? We know what her girlfriend looks like from the other streams. It’d only make sense considering that Sana and Y/N were living up until this last week. Then, after she came on the first stream, she filmed from the same room, two more times after that stream, before doing it in another spot. Besides, do you really think she makes enough here? To live in that apartment all alone?”

“You’re kinda creeping me out with how closely you pay attention to detail.” You hear Seungmin say as they shuffle around in their spot. They were talking about you not even realizing you were there listening to everything. 

“And you should pay attention more. Then, just the other day, I saw a box in the lobby on my way out addressed to her,” Jeongin is abruptly cut off by Seungmin.

“Please tell me you didn’t open her package.”

“OF COURSE NOT… I looked up the return address and it was to a sex store online.” You kick a bag of flour in the corner on accident. They stop talking for a moment trying to see if anyone else is in the storage room. Sana is frozen as a statue, she doesn't dare to take a breath. 

“Look, I’m not saying it isnt her… but what does it good does it do us to know if it is her? What’re you gonna say? ‘Hey, I wank it to you almost every night, big fan of your work’? You can’t even look her in the eye as it is, could you look her in the eyes if she knew how much you-” It was Seungmins turn to be cut off

“Oh don’t act like you’re above it! Your walls are a lot thinner than you think. I don’t know what I’d do though… Probably beg her to use me for her own pleasure.” The conversation comes to an abrupt stop when you hear the storage room door swing open. This time it’s  Minho’s voice that booms in. 

“I have plates getting cold, can you two stop fucking around and run them?” 

“Sorry, Jeongin wanted to discuss his revelations about your little minx. He’s getting too antsy for that surprise stream.” Seungmin slaps the back of Jeongins shirt as he pushes him out of the storage room. The room is silent once more with only the faint sound of Minho talking.

You turn to Sana to find that her eyes have gone as wide as yours. Your head is whirling with thoughts, all consumed by the reality that they knew. It didn’t scare you though, it only added to your excitement. Oh, tonight’s surprise might’ve been spoiled as you had planned a face reveal but another idea had come to mind. Instead, you toyed with the idea of what Jeongin had said. You pull out your phone to text the two of them.

“What’re you doing? Are you okay? I’m so sorry I should have never told those two idiots about my stream I just didn’t even think they were sober enough to remember let alone watch.” Sana asked worriedly, there’s a fear inside of her bubbling over, that she would be the reason you felt violated.

“This isn’t your fault! I’m fine really, I don’t mind at all. I’m a little surprised I guess but I knew the risk I was taking. Besides, I’m a little surprised that they would even begin to pay that much attention.” You say grabbing Sana by both arms to reassure her that you are more than okay. There was nothing to be upset about truthfully, you were flattered that they watched your streams. “Now, I think I owe my little detectives a surprise for figuring it out.

You: hey! do you two want to come by my place for some drinks tonight? i have a surprise for you both :3

Jeongin: sure! we’re both working rn but i’ll pick something up on the way :) 

Seung: sweeeet, whats the surprise?

You: it’s nothing really but its really something you’ll love!

They took the bait so easily it was almost comical, Sana was leaning over your shoulder watching your texts. 

“Oh you are a little minx, aren’t you? I think Mina and I will have to watch this tonight.”

—

You had set the room up for tonight's show, this room had been your best surprise yet. The windows were covered by white floor-to-ceiling drapes, tied with black ribbon and embroidered with delicate flowers. You had left the hardwood exposed, opting for a white fur throw rug in place moving it in or out of the way depending on the occasion. The bed was centered in the room, it was covered by silk pink sheets, a lacey pink comforter, white throw blankets, and an assortment of pillows in all shapes and sizes. The room was dimly with your led light bulbs, offering a soft pink glow to the room, it seemed like a sweet and coquettish room aside from the bookshelf lined with vibrators, dildos, and other assorted sex toys. 

You had prepped yourself like you normally had for these streams, the makeup was always fairly simple. A smooth base with glowy skin, the perfect shade of blush that made you look flushed, an eye shadow look that held more emphasis on the strategically placed shimmers that captured like diamonds with light reflections, and the mauve shade of lipstain that made your lips look pouty and bitten. You put on a matching black two-piece set under your inconspicuous outfit consisting of a grey sweater and black shorts that were a tighter fit, topped with a pair of black over-the-knee socks. The stream was set to start at 11 pm and your boys had arrived at 10 pm on the dot.

You opened the door with a gleeful smile, welcoming them in. They both wore t-shirts with sweats, and both had a cologne that wafted in the room. While you had never felt any crushing feelings for the two of them, there was no denying how cute they were. They were cute in the way that gets a girl giddy when she sees her waiter is this hot and their sweet mannerisms just added to the effect. You asked them how their day was as you pulled out some snacks for the beer they had brought over. You all sat on the floor surrounding the coffee table, the buzz slowly crept up on you.

“Mm so what was our surprise?” Seungmin asked as he took a sip of his drink. Jeongin had been frequently checking his phone, it was almost time. You had decided that now was as good of a time as any. There was still about 10 minutes from the countdown, that left the perfect amount of time to see if your plan would go as you wanted.

“You sure you want it now? Jeongin seems a little antsy, are you sure you want the surprise right now?” You smile to the both of them letting your eye contact linger on Jeongin a little longer, his lip bitten by his teeth.

‘Oh uh, um, yeah sorry I just was, uh, waiting for something.” He says before locking his phone once more and setting it down on the coffee table. You wink at him before telling them to follow you to the surprise, not missing the way Seungmin cocks a brow in surprise, and Jeongin’s cheeks flush pink. You walk down the hall to the two of them in toe, before you reach the door, you look up to the two of them with a warning. 

“You can refuse your surprise if you want, it’s no fun if you don’t want it got it?” They both shake their heads quickly like puppies before sparing a glance to each other. You open the door instructing them to sit in front of the screen, once the door is closed behind you, there's an internal flip switch for you.

 “I was thinking long and hard about what you said, and really, it warms my heart to know you two watch me to get off.” The tops of their cheeks are burning as they sit cross-legged staring at you sink to your knees, crawling over to them on all fours before stopping between the two of them. 

“And I thought that there was no better to reward you two for being so supportive of me then to return the favor? Hmm? I mean hearing you say you’d let me use Jeongin, got me so wet I had to come straight home and touch myself to the thought.” You notice the strain in their pants is growing, you feel yourself getting hotter when you lean forward resting your hands on the tops of their thighs. 

“You’ll let me use tonight, right, Jeongin? You’ve been such a good boy waiting for my return, you want to make me happy mm?” You say rubbing your hand up his thigh to where you can see the outline of his cock imprinting his sweats, he nods yes and whimpers when you brush your hands just across his boner. “Poor baby, can’t even use your words and I haven’t even started. I need to hear you say yes.”

“Y-yes, p-please.” You pull him into a kiss by his shirt muttering good boy and letting him lean back. You turn to Seungmin, his eyes are blown out staring at the hand resting on his thigh. You pick his chin up to make him look you in the eyes. His big brown puppy eyes stare at you, if it wasn’t for the waiting audience of viewers you would’ve pounced on the two of them already.

“You too puppy? I can’t touch you unless you say you want me to.”

“Yes.” Seungmin says almost above a whisper. You lean forward planting a sweet kiss on his lips as well. 

You swiftly stand up stripping yourself of the shorts and sweater, reaching for your mask before pressing the button to begin the stream. The chat is pouring with comments about where you’ve been, the new set up and most importantly your two guests. You giggle at some of the comments that already begging them to strip.

“You’re all gonna have to be warm and welcoming to my two guests okay? They’ve been some long-time supporters of mine and I have to show my gratitude in so my way right?” You say taking notice of the two boys palming themselves from the monitor. “Can my puppies strip for me?”

Any thoughts the two of them have ever shared are out the window, they both are pulling their shirts off, ridding themselves of all clothes til they're down to their underwear. You instruct them both to stay standing up, you look back at the monitor catching a glimpse of what everyone else was watching. You bite your lip looking at the monitor rubbing their hard on’s over their underwear, while stroking Seungmin, you pull Jeongin in close to you, reaching up to grab the waistband of his underwear with your teeth pulling them down just until hit his knees. His thighs shiver and the feeling of your mouth so close to where he needed it. He kept his arms and hands behind his back unsure of what to do with them, he stepped out of the underwear where you returned to Seungmin to do the same. They’re both much bigger than you expected which only sends a rush of wetness into the spot in your panties that's already soaking through. 

You take Seungmin into your mouth looking up at him, he’s looking down at you with his jaw slack and moans slipping past his lips while you take as much of him into your mouth. You feels so warm and wet around him, he cant help the way his cock twitches when you moan so heavily around his cock. He forces himself to keep his hands at his sides while you work your mouth on him but the idea of taking a fistful of your and rutting himself into your mouth is tantalizing. Jeongin watches in awe looking up at his roommate's fucked expression, he waits like the good boy he is. Your hand still stroking him, his tip angry pink with drops of precum beading at the tip. The movement of your mouth against Seungmin gets sloppier as you leave your spit and saliva covered all over his cock, you feel him getting closer to cumming with the way he twitches in your mouth. You pull off him and he whines out at the loss, his cock twitching while you keep pumping ever so slowly.

“Such good boys aren’t they? Do we think they should cum yet?” You say while moving to Jeongin to bring him into your mouth next, he almost cums when your tongue makes contact. There’s a large donation thats sent to you that reads off a message

$1000 donation from hyjnny “let the one in your mouth fuck you doggy since he’s such a good dog”

You let him out of your mouth with a pop and smile looking back at the camera, thanking the donor. Your legs feel weak at the thought of letting Jeongin take you from behind. You continue to make sloppy wet noises against his cock, taking him as far down your throat before gagging and going back in once more. He watches with eyes wide, it feels like a dream to watch you take him down your throat. He was always shy with his size, too many of his partners complained that it wasn’t pleasurable so the idea of not only being so far down your throat but to fuck you in front of the thousands of people watching wanted to make him cry cumming.

Seungmin is starting to thrust into your hand as most of your focus is on Jeongin fitting in your mouth. He’s erratically fucking into the makeshift hole that is your hand, letting some of his own spit dribble out. You finally pull off Jeongin, and a line spit connecting your mouth to his cock stays between you two. You instruct them to kneel now once more in front of the camera, you align them to face each other with you in between, you lean into kiss Seugmin and place Jeongins hands on your tits. They’re both squishing you between them, Jeongin focused on groping your tits and ridding you of your bra. Seungmin’s hand dives to firmly grip your neck in his hand while Jeongin humps you over your underwear from behind. The room fills with the sound of wet kisses and breathy moans. You pull Seunmin off your mouth and pull your panties off to leave you in nothing but your socks. Another donation pings,

$500 donation from 97ddynahc “suck the brunette off while the other fucks you from behind, let them both breed your holes” 

Your pussy dripped with the need for the two of them, to take them both at the same time was going to take a lot to not orgasm at the first movement. You let Jeongin guide your hips in place, his tip swiping at your entrance and nudging your clit sending a chill through you and a gasp. 

“Let me know if it’s too much okay? I know I’m on the bigger side and its uncomfortable for some people,” Jeongin says in small voice, hes terrified of hurting.”

“I promise, puppy.” Every time you called them ‘good boy’ or ‘puppy’ it only made Jeongin want to fuck the sweetness out of you until you could only beg. He slides in letting you adjust to him before moving. He fills you up, you feel every inch and ridge inside of you as he rocks his hips back in forth. You thighs shake wanting to just squirt all over his cock in that moment.

“Jeongin, ah, please.. Go harder please,” Your whimpers sound like music to them, it doesn’t take long for him to pick up the pace, slamming his hips down into you while Seungmin grabs your face to do the same. Seungmin takes hold of your head, creating a makeshift ponytail as he begins fucking your mouth, he’s big. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, the motion of the two of you only forces you to take Seungmin even further down your throat.

Jeongin can't help himself, he’s so entrapped with the way your ass moves with every slam of his hips. He adjusts your hips to pick up more speed and hits that spongey spot inside you, the new angle causes you to moan vibrating against Seungmins cock. It felt so dirty to be used the way you were at this very moment but it only made you clench around Jeongins cock. They both are panting and grunting with every thrust, skin slapping against skin. You feel your orgasm approaching quickly and hard. The build-up in your stomach has you clenching harder than before causing Jeongin to thrust deeper, he slows down and grips your hips fully pulling you into him. Burying his cock deep in your pussy he lets go of everything, he whines loudly and shakily, and you wonder if the neighbors can hear him. He doesn't stop thrusting knowing you're close. Seungmin pulls off you and starts stroking himself to allow himself to cum on your face and chest. Your mouth hangs open while he shoots his warm white cum all over your face and chest letting whatever you catch in your mouth, swallow back. Jeongin continues thrusting grabbing your arms to hold them behind and Seungmin reaches under you to circle your clit as you cry out, squirting all over the two of them. You both stay still, trying to catch your breathe. You look up at the monitor, your mask sloppily misaligned and the other two boys are about to pass out. You wave goodbye and say your thank yous turning the stream off. 

You crawl over to the bed reaching for your robe, trying to grip the bed to stand up but your legs give out. Jeongin stands up somewhat stable, lifting you up into his arms with is arms wrapped around your waist.

“ I have water in the shower for us, theres some.. water bottles in there.” You say tired as Jeongin sits you on the love seat in the corner. Seungmin is grabbing a towel from the dresser to layover the mess covering the floors.

Jeongin remerges with water in hand. Your throat is sore but you feel like your on cloud 9. No one says a word while you drink the water down.

“So uh… How was it?” You ask to break the silence.

“Better then I ever could have dreamed of. Would you… want to maybe do it again?” Seungmin is the first to speak, you feel yourself blushing. It felt so silly to blush after you just let them cum in/on you.

“ Oh uh.. Definetely… I don’t know about a threesome again. That was a lot of cardio for me” You giggle at the last part. Jeongin laughs, it was one he does when he was a little shy about compliments.

“Sorry for cumming in you, I wasn’t sure if i should but can I get you a Plan B or um,” Jeongin asks but you shake your head laughing.

“No worries here, I’m on the pill. Do you guys mind keeping this between us? I just wouldn’t want anyone at work to know if that’s okay?” You ask.

“Worried about Minho? Don’t worry he’s hopelessly in love with you but this stays between us… and maybe everyone who watched but who cares about those one’s.” Seungmin says reassuring you. 

You walk the two of them to the door and say your goodnights, you settle away in bed after a nice long bath, trying to relax any possibility of sore muscles. You’re drifting to sleep when you get a message.

hyjnny: hey babe, loved your live tonight. If you ever want to collaborate sometime let me know, think we might be pretty close. Check my page out, i think you’ll like what you see. Here’s my number if you want to meet up sometime xxx-xxx-xxxx

----

a/n: feeling a little rusty but i hope you all love this chapter, look forward the next one ;)

taglist (7/30): @skzooluvr @breadpuddingboys @weshhhhhhhhhhhhh @ihrtlix @complete-kpop-trash @strayzid @amara-mars

[catiuskaa]

COACH OR PLAYER?

SUMMARY: there’s always a time when one just has to know, but is the coach able to risk it and play their own game?

WC: 1.43k (omg)

CW: caution! content hot! lol, just suggestive, a sneaky reference to the devil wears prada, some sports/gameplayer terminology.

REQUESTED! by annonie right here. i gotta say, good music taste, pookie. I had fun with this one, I really hope you do too! <3

[⛓️☆ 🎀 ☆⛓️]

Bet.

“Do I look that cold?”

You hesitated, smiling after he lend you his jacket.

“Maybe.” He shrugged playfully, scrunching his face in a funny way, which made his glasses fall a bit further down the bridge of his nose. “Maybe I’m just that hot.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip.

Sometimes you wished you could just forget about it.

“He said that?” Your roomate Jeongin scoffed. “Man figured a way to lower a standard that was already non-existent for his category.”

You blinked, deadpanning at him before sighting and merely continuing making a simple grilled cheese for dinner.

“Now’s when you ask, Innie, what category?”

The olive oil teased you, its sound almost threatening as you pulled your sleeves as far as they could reach, trying to cover your hands.

“What if I’m not interested?”

He scoffed with a smirk, already munching what had been meant as a dessert, his eyes never leaving the sliced pieces of fruit.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Andrea, everybody wants this.”

You laughed, sitting down on the sofa next to him, and he lowered the TV’s volume, going as far as to sit propperly —criss-cross is propper, and that’s on period, he’d say— and facing towards you, clearing his throat and leaving the plate on the coffee table.

The crisp feeling of toast was better than you imagined, considering you’d thought you weren’t even that hungry at first. You chewed gingerly, unbothered by what was starting to feel like a piercing stare to your forehead.

“Jeongin-a.” It was funny how hard he tried to play it as if he hadn’t been startled by your tone. You blinked again, merely meeting your eyes with his. “I’d rather you speak than drill holes on my head.”

He groaned, throwing his legs over the sofa’s armrest, passing his hands through his face. You ate quietly, waiting for him.

“It’s just that…” he sighed. “I never know when you’re going straight ahead for someone. I don’t think I know now either.”

You frowned, covering your mouth with the back of your hand, still eating. “The fuck you mean, pal?”

He stood up faster than you expected, which almost threatened your grilled cheese sandwich to end up facing the floor.

“I know you like him. Shit like that is your whole modus operandi. But ever since our bet, I just don’t know.”

It’s probably a famous last word. At the rate it’s said, it’s gotta be. It’s easygoing, slipping off one’s tongue quickly, as if ripping off a band-aid.

“Bet on it.”

“That just scrambles my eggs, dude.” You had winced a while back, playing half-annoyed, suddenly focused on the contents inside the can in your hand. “I don’t think I’m interested.”

He had chuckled, opening another can of beer.

“Why?” He said, smirking teasingly. “Even coach leaves the fucking bench if the rest of the players suck,” his face was serious, his pink-tinted cheeks obvious, considering his weak alcohol tolerance.

“That’s not even funny.”

He had dissmissed your denial, grunting a bit, approaching you further, and laying a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re normally blind to this type of things, but with this guy, you can’t even say if he’s just playing.”

Alas, your can had been empty. But now, a small idea had blossomed and filled a part of your mind.

“I bet that if I flirt back, he’ll back off. That’s my bet.” You had slammed the can against the table, your expression that of a winner.

Silly little thing.

No one can win if no one wants to stop playing.

[⛓️☆ 🎀 ☆⛓️]

“Hey,” you grinned, watching him smile at you as he took his big headphones off and left them hanging on his neck.

You closed the door of the studio behind you, taking a seat on the chair next to him.

“Pity. I had a better seat saved for you, doll.” Jisung teased, tapping on his thighs playfully.

You chuckled, biting your lip.

Every player knows that rules exist for a reason. The issue in the gameplay is the rules. They limit one’s extent to keep the game going. Rules are there to make sure the result is fair.

But what if any fairness can get out of this?

Your eyes didn’t leave his when you smirked.

“Sure thing, jagi.”

The chair threatened to move backwards with the added weight, but Han planted his shoes on the ground with more firmness, his arms traveling to your waist, making sure that even if the chair gave up, you wouldn’t end up on the floor.

Your back was facing him, and you knew you were using that to your advantage when you stoond up just enough to sit a little further, just a tiny bit, now able to lie your head on his shoulder comfortably.

It’s no surprise that this match’s winner could have been already decided, considering your current position in less than ten minutes together. A good player knows when not even the VAR can rule these points out if they wanted to.

Han knew he wouldn’t.

You don’t, however, so it could start to look like the gameplay may take a turn. He could get the upper hand, seeing as his arms cheekily traveled around your waist and he sighed, his breath hot against the skin of your neck, and your head could figure out you had lost, judging by how hard it was to fight off the shivers that ran through your spine because of him.

You were blushing, sitting on his lap. You weren’t sure you could remember what you were supposed to be doing in the studio anyways.

After all, rules are followed because everyone knows them. But what happens when none of the players can decide where to draw the line?

“What do we have here?” Your tone sounded cheeky, yet neither of you will comment on it as you point at the big screen slightly above you.

“A beat I was working on.” His voice too felt slightly lower, its sneaky undertone able to hit you like a truck if spotted, hunting you like a sweet you couldn’t help but crave.

Your hands traveled to his neck, and you fidgeted with the golden chain there, teasing as you purposefully graced your fingers against his skin, tickling, tantalizing.

“Can I listen to it?” You snickered while putting on his chain.

Sometimes, one of the players may not be really acquainted with the rules. And at the end, in this gameplay, at least, no winners can achive said golden medal when you’re not able to ignore how his fingers never once stopped playing with the light-coloured threads that decorated the end of your high-waisted shorts.

The drums and beats and bass all filled up the sound-proofed room once Jisung pressed play.

You giggled, returning the chain to its rightful owner, letting it dangle, following its patter from his nape, to his collarbone, and down to his chest.

He shivered, almost unnoticeable, and you smiled.

“It’s a fire beat.” I’m winning. “Have you planned what to add to it?” Turn it against me.

He smirked, nodding, his hands pressing you even more against him, as if that could make you able to read his mind, then make him able to take your breath away as he’d finally let the bomb inside him explode, take you from your thighs and sit you on the table before him, not bothering to move anything an inch as his fingers unbutton your blouse and how you would hastedly discard his sweatter off him.

But that won’t happen as of now, so he just grinned, taking your hands, always a little colder than his, and used the sleeves of his sweater to cover them, warming them up with the fabric. Which was as intended. Not merely holding hands as he kept at bay all of the thoughts that flooded him whenever your studio sessions came around.

Of course not.

“Oh, yeah.” He replied, a faint blush not noticeable thanks to the coloured lights. Its direct if you’re thinking the same as him, but that, he won’t know, so still, he replied cheekily.

“There’s still things to do.”

His eyes found yours, and he smirked.

“I don’t think I’ll be done soon.”

It’s ridiculous how he bit his lip, almost threatening you to follow along and bite him too.

“It’s just a little too good. Don’t you think, doll?” The way he paused after every sentece started to drive you wild, and you fidgeted with his rings again, both of your hands hidden in the holes of his sweater.

It’s also sweet how you didn’t know he was not wearing anything else underneath it.

At least, not yet.

Rules says you’ll have to wait a bit longer.

And Han Jisung is and has always been a thorough player.

[⛓️☆ 🎀 ☆⛓️]

~Kats, who thinks has been exposed to lots of euro matches to end up writing this. lol

catiuskaa, july 2024 ©

[ohtobeleah]

I’d kill for a part two of that strictly scandalous concept where Hangman fucks Mavericks daughter. Just him realizing what he’s done.

HAHAHAHA. I loved this one. Here ya go. Just because I felt this on my bones, baby. and I know I've used the callsign Iris for a blurb once but imma use it again because it suits and I like it. :)

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

Jakes shitting himself. Imagine it though— he’s in the locker room, zipping up his flight suit when Pete Mitchell slaps his hand down on Jake’s shoulder from behind. It scares the living shit out of him when he realises just who it is standing behind him. 

“You have a good weekend Hangman—?” Mav asked as Jake turned to face him, eyes wide like he’s just been caught red handed and balls deep him Mavericks daughter. 

“Huh?” Jakes trying to formulate a sentence to reply with, but he’s breaking out in a sweat, remembering just how fucked he knew he was when you introduced yourself a Lieutenant Mitchell. Pete Maverick Mitchell’s daughter. “Uh, sorry repeat the question sir?” 

“I asked if you had a good weekend?” Pete always thought Jake was a little weird, a little overzealous and egotistical—but right this minute he could be considered a flight risk. With sweat practically dripping down his face and he looks over Pete’s shoulder to see his saving grace. Rooster. 

“Yeah, yeah nah it was average—“ If you’d call fucking his captains daughter in the back of his truck average. That was a felony around here, a career ender, an act worthy of being lined up and executed point blank. “Listen, great chatting to you, But I gotta go—“ Mav doesn’t get a chance to even register what’s going on before Jake is hightailing it over towards Bradley, dragging him around the corner of the locker room with a clenched jaw and panicked eyes. 

“Dude! What’s your problem!” Bradley’s hissing at Jake’s grip on his bicep. Being pulled away into a more discreet part of the men’s locker room. 

“I’m gonna lose my fucking job—“ Bradley Bradshaw has never seen Jake Seresin so panicked before. He’s usually in control of every situation, every aspect of his life. But this? Whatever had him spooked must have been major because Bradley could see straight into Jake's soul, and he was terrified. 

“What exactly did you do?” 

“Not a what.” Jake groaned, smashing his fist against Fanboys stupid Star Wars themes locker or whatever the hell TV show he geeked over. “More like a who—“ Bradley’s not computing what Jake is trying to tell him. Watching as Jake turns, presses his back against the lockers, and slides towards the ground in complete and utter defeat. He can kiss this promotion goodbye and he hasn’t even made it through a full day. 

“Can you be a little more specific? It’s too early to be deciphering codes.” Rooster just stands there, arms crossed as Jake lets his head rest against the flimsy doors of the lockers he’s resting up against—legs spread out. 

“IfuckedMavsdaughter—“ Jake mumbles quickly and under his breath. Bradley only just makes out what he said as his eyes are blowing out of his head in pure shock. No, no this is too perfect. 

“I’m sorry you did who?” Rooster needs to hear Jake say it clearly and as precisely as possible. “You did not!” 

“I didn’t know she was Mavs daughter Rooster! You didn’t fucking tell me who she was!” Jake was right on that front, but Bradley wasn’t in the loop, when did spilling three entire schooners of alcohol on someone equates to fucking someone. “God! Do you know what he’s gonna do to me when he finds out? He’s gonna make my life a living hell!” Jake groans as he hits the back of his head against the locker in an act of self-pity.

“You fucked Y/n Iris Mitchell, he’s gonna hang you, Hangman.” Bradley loved this probably a little more than he should have. He knew his uncle all too well and he knew how protective he was of the daughter he didn’t know he had until you showed up at his doorstep one random Saturday afternoon. “He’s gonna string you up by your big toe on the flagpole—“ 

“I should just quiet before he has a chance to—“ Jakes squinting his eyes shut tight, all he can see is you riding him like you had nothing to lose in the back of his truck. He can feel your around him still, the tightest pussy he’s ever fucked. So warm and perfect and—young. Fuck, he should have know this would have eventually. “I’m a deadman walking.”

“Does she know who you are?” Bradley’s asking as he finally takes a knee and comes to sit against the lockers with his clearly distressed wingman. “Did you tell her you’re most likely her instructor? Her Lieutenant Commander?” 

“Nope—“ Jake pops the P. “I was just gonna see how long I could go without running into her, avoid her at all costs.” 

“Yeah something tells me that’s not gonna work.” Bradley chuckles, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “But good luck man, honestly I’m rooting for you.” Rooster bumps his shoulder against Jakes as he stands. Looking down at the aviator having a clear existential crisis. “Stop sticking your dick into anything that moves at the Hard Deck—I’m honestly shocked something like this hasn’t happened sooner.” 

“Can you just promise me that if I go missing you’ll tell the cops it was Mav?” Jake is as serious as he ever has been as he looks up at Rooster. “This is partly your fault to you big flightless bird—if I had been told, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near her!” But all Bradley can do is laugh at Jake’s predicament. 

“Sure thing pal, but she told you, you could have stopped and dealt with the blue balls—but I’m guessing the night didn’t end in the truck and you're big enough and ugly enough to deal with the consequences of your own actions.” Bradley feels like this whole situation is an early birth present. He’s beaming, smug even. Of course Jake fucked Mavs daughter, of course he did!  “I’ll see you out there.” 

“You're a bad friend!” Jakes Shouting out as Bradley rounds the corner, he’s laughing as he shakes his head and exits the locker room only to run into you in the hall. Seeing an opportunity he just can’t resist passing up. 

“Iris!” Bradley cooed, grabbing your attention as he jogs up beside you from behind, slinging a shoulder around you. “How’s induction day going so far?” 

“I just came out of a lecture about weapons systems malfunctions with Lieutenant Commander Floyd.” You explained, pretty tickled pink with excitement that you were at TopGun. Not a lot of women got to experience such a feat. “He’s pretty intelligent.” 

“Bobs great—“ Bradley had known you since you were about sixteen, but you weren’t all that close for two people who’d be considered non-biological siblings. “Hey listen, I heard you left the Hard Deck with Hangman the other night.” 

“Who’s Hangman?” You asked as you stopped in your tracks. “And how do you know I left with som—“ All things considered, when Jake had told you that if Hawaiian shirts were what you were into, you should be talking to Bradley, you could have said that you saw him more like a brother than anything else. But you didn’t, you played along and said that guys with moustaches weren't your type. “Oh—no please Rooster I didn’t.” Bradley could see the look of realisation creeping across your face. You’d fucked one of your TopGun instructors, hadn't you? “No—please it’s April fools isn’t it?” 

“It’s October Iris—“ Bradley smirked, his moustache working to devour his upper lip entirely as he does. “Mavs gonna kill him—“ 

“Fuck what Mavs gonna do to him Bradshaw! I’m gonna get kicked out of Miramar if the admirals find out what I’ve done!” You're a mess, Bradley chuckles, hey maybe you and Jake had a few things in common. Your inability to cope during existential crises being one of them. “This ain’t happening! I need to talk to him, where is he?”

“He’s probably still writing his resignation on the locker room flo—“ Before Bradley can finish your sentence, he’s watching as you make a b-line directly for the locker room he’d just come out of. 

On the hunt for Lieutenant Commander Jake ‘Deadman’  Seresin.

[daizymax]

let loose | hhj (m)

summary: it's a party, and your roommate said you should loosen up once in a while, so why is he upset when you start making out with one of his friends?

pairing: hyunjin x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 6.2k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: roommate!hyunjin; profanity; alcohol consumption; some name-calling (reader calls hyunjin an asshole and an idiot one time each); jealousy; jisung is briefly featured only to be used for very poor plot purposes i'm so sorry; graphic sexual content; dirty talk; vaginal fingering; protected sex

author's note: reuploaded from my old blog with some edits (nothing major though). hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

It’s not the book’s fault, yet you still take your frustration out on it by slinging it across your bedroom after the - not third, not fourth, but - fifth drunken guest stumbles into your closed door.

“I swear to god,” you groan, tossing aside your comforter to begrudgingly pull on a pair of pants and step out of what was supposed to be your safe haven for the night.

Into the fray it is, then.

Whichever culprit tripped into your door a moment ago is not in the hallway anymore. From the living room and kitchen, you can hear laughter and chatter straining to be heard over the booming music. And as you pass the bathroom, you lock eyes with a young man and glimpse someone in there behind him before he closes the door.

Sighing, you make your way to the living room. Nothing appears to have been destroyed, you note gratefully, but the “small gathering” is clearly busier and rowdier than what your roommate had promised. He’s not here in the crowded living room, though, so you move to check the kitchen next, pushing and squeezing past bodies with mumbled apologies as you go.

You find Hyunjin upending a bottle of tequila into a row of shot glasses. Half of his nearly shoulder-length blond hair is gathered in a knot behind his head, looking maddeningly elegant when the same hairstyle on anyone else would look messy at best. His white button-down shirt hugs his shoulders nicely, and the sleeves are folded up near his elbows, giving a clear view of the tendons in his forearms flexing beneath smooth, creamy skin as he works. It’s a simple look, but his entire appearance is still too well-kept for this hour and setting, in your opinion. You’ve always held the belief that Home is a safe place to not give a shit how you look, not a place to be looking like… that.

He spots you and smiles, though you notice a hint of sheepishness in his eyes as well. He’s pleasantly surprised to see you, but he’s also aware you’ve been disturbed on his account. Even still, he doesn’t greet you with a due apology. He keeps his tone light and carefree as he calls out: “Hey! Did you change your mind about joining the fun? You want a shot?”

You make a face. “Ick, no, tequila is such a nasty drink,” you decline. When you get close enough, you lean into his shoulder and mutter, “What the fuck, dude, you said a 'few' people. And it’s two A.M.”

He turns to consult the clock over the stove and shrugs. “Perfect time for things to be in full swing then, I’d say. And you must not be doing your shots right, babe.” He gestures toward a bowl of lime wedges, and you vaguely wonder when he picked those up because you certainly didn’t purchase them yourself.

“I know how to do a tequila shot, asshole. But still,” you dismiss without elaborating further. “I’m going back to bed. Can you try to keep your friends away from my room, please? They keep fucking bumping into my door. Oh, and if they need a bathroom, tell them to use yours because I think a couple of them are hooking up in the guest one right now.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen momentarily, then crease in amusement. He leans to the side and shouts behind you, “Yo, Jisung! Where’d Jisung go? Hey! Someone tell him Minho is-”

You’re not interested in hearing Minho’s story or what Jisung has to say about it, whoever they both are. You’re only interested in preserving some semblance of sanctity in your home, so you get back in your roommate’s face and cut him off with a terse warning. “Hyunjin, please, I’m serious. Keep it civil in here.”

“Okay, ‘mom,’ jeez.”

You toss your hands up in defeat and spin on your heel to storm off, but he catches your bicep.

“No, wait, I’m sorry, Y/N, really,” he says more sincerely when he gets you to turn back around. You cross your arms and wait for more. “We’ll be good, and I’ll make sure everyone is out in an hour, even if I have to personally drive them all home myself,” he promises, going dramatically over the top to show you how serious he is. “But you really should just join us, you know. I’ve told you you’re welcome to.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I am. I fucking live here.”

“Exactly. This is your home, so you should let loose once in a while.”

“And what could I possibly gain from getting drunk with you and your friends?”

“Uh, the experience of actually having fun for once? And the pleasure of our - well, mainly my - amazing company?” Hyunjin answers with a tone and a face that tells you it should have been obvious. 

“Yeah, right,” you snort.

“Just let me see you have one shot, babe. Humor me. Pretty please?”

You eye the pitiful, pleading look on his pouty face, then the spread of liquor on the sticky countertop, and eventually cave. “Fine, where’s the salt?”

Hyunjin watches in delight as you lick the back of your hand to prepare it for the salt. As you’re sprinkling it on, someone joins the two of you in the kitchen.

“Hey Hyunjin, were you just calling me?” He doesn’t wait for the answer to that before he’s going on, “Who’s this? I don’t think we’ve met.”

You turn to face the newcomer and stretch out your unsalted hand. “Hey, I’m Y/N, Hyunjin’s roommate.”

“Oh!” He takes your hand in both of his and squeezes it enthusiastically. “Good to finally meet you. I’m Jisung.”

You throw a cheeky smile at your roommate as you grab one of the shot glasses. “Why do I get the feeling I’ve been talked about behind my back?” you ask neither of them in particular, though Hyunjin at least has the decency to blush over being caught.

“Nothing bad,” Jisung rushes to clarify. “Hyunjin’s just mentioned you sometimes, like whenever something reminds him of you or- something.”

His abrupt finish makes you think Hyunjin just gave him some kind of shut-the-fuck-up look, but you missed it. You don’t press for details, though. You just go about getting through the shot you were so easily talked into. So you lick the salt from your hand, down the tequila in one burning swallow, then bite into the flesh of a lime wedge in sequence as quickly as you can while the boys watch.

“Awful. Just awful,” you declare when you’re finished, smacking your lips and clicking your tongue in disgust.

Jisung chuckles and Hyunjin claps your back rather proudly as he takes the bitten lime wedge to throw it away.

“Do you like beer? We can drink beer instead,” Jisung suggests.

You look to see if he is in fact speaking to you, which does appear to be the case from his smile and hopeful eye contact.

Before you answer, you take the time to give him a proper once-over. He’s very attractive, but it’s not as instantly noticeable as with Hyunjin. Something in the way his smile begins faltering the longer you stare at him is utterly endearing to you, though.

“We?” you tease.

“I mean, if that’s c-cool with you-” he starts backtracking on his boldness.

“Y/N isn’t really into parties, are you, babe?” Hyunjin suddenly speaks up for you. “I think she was just going back to her room.”

Jisung furrows his eyebrows and pouts. “Aw, really?”

You give Hyunjin a look that is both stern and confused. You have mixed feelings about the pet name to begin with. It’s one thing for him to want to call you something other than your name when it’s just the two of you, but he never calls you that in front of others. Or he never has before, at least. Now it makes it sound like the two of you are… a couple? An item? Which is not the case.

Plus, he’d been excited to have you out here “joining the fun” a moment ago, but now he’s okay with you retreating to your room? Or perhaps he just doesn’t want you spending time with Jisung in particular...

Upon connecting those dots, you decide you only have one choice in the matter.

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind about that. I’d love to have a beer with you, Jisung,” you say sweetly, to which he beams.

“Great!” The return of his smile assures you you’ve made the right choice. “Lead the way.”

Hyunjin shoots his friend another look as you and Jisung leave the kitchen together, but you miss that one, too.

---

“So, what made a girl like you move in with a guy like Hyunjin?”

“‘A girl like me,’” you repeat, downing another swig of beer. “So you think you know all about me now since we’ve talked about our jobs and hobbies, huh?”

Jisung doesn’t flinch against your teasing this time, just laughs. “I mean, I’m definitely not opposed to learning more about you.”

He stretches an arm behind you on the back of the couch and scoots closer. He really is a very good looking guy, and you know it’s not the alcohol adding optimism to your vision, either, because you haven’t had all that much. He has great hair, pretty eyes, cute nose, nice teeth, beautiful cheekbones. A little excitable, you can tell, but also charming and polite. He’s cute.

He holds your gaze with a small but unwavering smile this time as he waits for you to either answer his initial question or offer more information about yourself. You opt for neither.

“Maybe I don’t want to talk about me anymore.”

“Okay, that’s cool. What would you rather talk-”

You lean in and kiss him. Just a peck, a gentle press of your lips to his, not too fast but still over before he’s fully registered the gesture or able to return it.

“Oh,” Jisung whispers in understanding when you pull back a little.

“Was that okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, yeah, perfectly okay,” he assures. He bites his tingling lip and smirks, then lifts his arm from the couch to place his hand on the nape of your neck. “But I wasn’t quite ready. Can we try that again?”

You nod, and he closes the gap to kiss you back properly this time. From some corner of your apartment, a tipsy guest whistles over the scene, but you’re more interested in the hum Jisung lets out as both your lips part and tongues slip together in sync. He tastes of beer and salty snacks, but something on him - his shampoo or his lotion or his cologne or maybe a mixture of the three - smells faintly sweet and minty.

His fingertips gently tickle your neck for a bit, then hold firmly to draw you deeper into his kisses. You consider moving onto his lap, but something in the back of your mind tells you not to cause too much of a scene in the middle of Hyunjin’s party.

In fact, if you were paying more attention to your surroundings outside of this cute stranger, you might have noticed the onlookers stirring up a scandalized fuss over your roommate already making a beeline toward the couch, but it isn’t until he’s shoving the two of you apart that you do.

“What the hell, man?” Jisung protests.

Hyunjin ignores him, addressing you instead. “Y/N, can I talk to you for a second, please?”

Apparently by “talk” he means pull you completely out of the room and partway down the hallway like a barbarian before you manage to wrest your hand away.

“What the hell, Hyunjin?” you repeat Jisung’s question with double the annoyance.

“I’m here asking you the same thing,” he snaps back in a hushed tone. “Why are you making out with a stranger on the couch?”

You cross your arms in front of him for the second time tonight and raise an eyebrow to his attitude. “I thought I was just letting loose, having fun and enjoying the pleasure of your friends’ company. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I didn’t mean like that! And why Jisung?”

“What’s wrong with Jisung? He seems nice.”

Hyunjin gawps like he’s never heard those words out of anyone’s mouth before. “You’ve only known him for like half an hour!”

“So? He still seems nice. And he’s really hot...”

You turn your head back to the living room to try and catch Jisung’s eye and give him a signal that you’ll be with him again shortly, but Hyunjin dives to block your line of sight.

“He’s not good enough for you, trust me.”

“Well for fuck’s sake, Hyunjin, I’m not trying to marry him! I’m just trying to get laid,” you spell out bluntly. Hyunjin scoffs but doesn’t reply, just looks down at the floor. You scrutinize the plain displeasure all over his face and smirk as a sneaking suspicion occurs to you. “Unbelievable. Is the Hwang Hyunjin actually jealous?”

“Yes.” His swift, honest answer catches you completely by surprise and stuns you into silence. When he gauges that you’re not going to reply, he continues, “It’s not fair, Y/N. We’ve been living together for months and it only took Jisung thirty minutes to get you to want to sleep with him? I’ve been here this whole time. I’ve been- I’ve wanted you this whole time...”

You process his words in continued silence for nearly a full minute, then finally say, “If I’d known it would only take me making out with one of your friends to get you to confess that, I would’ve joined one of your parties sooner. Or you could have just told me from the start, you know.”

Hyunjin recognizes a joke somewhere in your words and automatically lets a laugh slip, but soon snaps his head up. “Wait, really?”

“You’re such an idiot,” you chuckle. “But I guess I am, too. I guess we’ve both been wasting all this time. Want to make up for it?”

His eyes blow wide. “R-Right now? Aren’t you drunk?”

“No. Are you?”

“No…”

“Then why not? I mean, I guess we can at least kick everyone out first, if you wa-”

His lips are on yours before you can finish the thought. They’re just as plush as they look, but the impact is sharp, and you take only a brief moment to grunt over it before you’re reciprocating in full, grabbing his shoulders tightly and pulling him closer. He tastes like traces of salt, too. Citrusy as well. And the woody scent of his cologne is an all too familiar comfort in your nostrils. He wraps his arms around you and you sigh, happily letting him overwhelm your senses.

“Babe… please tell me this won’t be a one-time thing,” Hyunjin mumbles between ravishing blows of lips and teeth.

“Wasn’t planning on it being.”

“And you’re sure you’re not drunk?” he checks again.

“I’m sure, Hyunjin. I want this.”

“Bedroom, then.”

“Yours or mine?” you giggle.

“I don’t care… yours,” he decides quickly, steering you by the hips in the right direction.

There is already a couple in there tangled together in their own passionate lip-lock when you stumble through the door. You’ll have time to be upset about their evident plans to defile your safe haven later when you’re not in your own haste to commit nasty acts in it.

“Get the fuck out,” Hyunjin growls at them.

You expect at least one of them to argue that they were here first, but they heed his command without a word, hastily picking up one of their discarded shirts before scampering off.

Hyunjin slams the door behind them with a careless kick of his foot, then continues right on kissing you like you’re holding all the air in the room. At the same time, his hands are busy trying to map every line of your body like it’s something he needed to have memorized yesterday.

“Hyunjin - ungh -  I know we’re making up for lost time, but - mmph - we can still - hah - slow down, you know,” you laugh, struggling to get your words out in the midst of the feverish pace he’s setting.

He nearly whimpers at that. “Just want you so fucking bad, you have no idea. Been waiting so long to touch you, kiss you.”

His lips skim across your cheek and over to your ear. Whatever response you had in mind is lost when he nips your earlobe with his teeth then soothes the sting with the tip of his wet tongue.

“You like that?” he asks, though he suspects he knows the answer already by the shiver that runs through you.

“Y-yeah.”

He does it again - a quick nip of his teeth and a sensual flick of his tongue - and then he’s on to the next thing, trailing those enticing lips down the column of your throat, suckling gently at your skin the entire way.

“Can we take this off?” Hyunjin asks next, alerting you to where his fingers have hooked themselves under the hem of your shirt.

At your nod, he yanks it up and drops it aside. There is a glimmer in his eyes as he takes in your bare chest, as though one of his biggest fantasies has just sprung to life before him. You entertain the idea that perhaps it has.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He’s never been one to impress easily, but there’s no mistaking the look on his face for anything else.

His pace is much slower when he reaches to graze the pads of his thumbs back and forth across your perked nipples. The soft moan you release encourages him to take a better feel with his palms.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured your tits in my head,” he confesses as he carefully gropes you. “All those times you paraded around the apartment without a bra on, nipples sticking through your shirt... fuck, Y/N.”

You huff a small laugh at the thought of you ever “parading” anywhere, but the knowledge that you’ve ever turned him on turns you on even more, as made evident by the growing wetness between your legs.

“And these tight fucking leggings you always wear,” he goes on, roaming his hands down your hips and around to your backside, “drive me insane on you, I swear to god. Any time - every time - I see you bend over, I just want to take you over the counter or the couch or against the wall and give it to you good, baby.”

The new pet name and the sordid confessions spilling from him make you want to join in on the dirty talk, but the feeling of him taking two handfuls of your ass - the feeling of his long-awaited touch in general - is burning you up from the inside, fizzling the majority of your coherent thoughts. All you can bring yourself to speak is: “Show me.”

Hyunjin looks back to your face and grins wickedly. “Oh, I’ll definitely be fucking you in the kitchen at some point in the near future. And in the living room. There are so many things I want to do to you. So many things I want you do to me. We’re gonna fuck each other in every single room in this place, starting with this one.”

He pulls away, and you immediately miss his body heat. You don’t complain, however, because you don’t want to disrupt him from yanking his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his jeans and undoing the buttons one by one with deft twists of his fingers. Once the flaps are loose, he shrugs and lets the fabric spill to a heap on the floor.

You’ve seen him shirtless on many occasions by now. In the mornings, stumbling to the coffee pot while still half asleep. On his way to the laundry room with only a pair of sweatpants riding low on his hips because he always lets his dirty clothes pile up until he has nearly nothing left to wear. But not in this context. Not when it’s finally appropriate for you to stare. Not when the sexual tension that has been building for months is finally about to be shattered.

Yet you don’t even get to admire his chest nearly as much as he did yours before your attention is drawn lower by his hands working to open his belt. He drops it aside with his shirt, and then his jeans follow, and then his boxers, and just like that, he’s standing completely naked in front of you with enough lithe, beautiful glory to almost make your heart stop.

Hyunjin takes a step closer to you, his erection bobbing gently and shamelessly in the air with the motion. He puts his hands back on you, snapping the waistband of your pants lightly as he leans in to ask, “Are you gonna get these, or should I?”

“Go ahead,” you invite.

You steady your hands on his shoulders, and he peels your bottoms - underwear and all - far enough down your legs for you to kick them both away. Once he stands up straight again, you wind your arms around his neck and pull him to lie over you on the mattress. He helps position you comfortably in the center with gentle nudges of his knees and tugs of his warm hands, and his lips find their way back to yours in the meantime. You hum contentedly at the return of the citrusy taste that comes from his tongue dipping against yours.

After all his careful maneuvering to get you just where he wanted, you decide this isn’t the position you want after all, so you push your weight against him until he rolls over and slips beneath you.

Hyunjin’s eyelashes flutter prettily as he gazes up at you. Then they scrunch completely shut when you press your center against the shaft of his thick, solid cock. The moan he lets out when you begin to drag yourself up and down his erection may be the single most erotic thing you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he murmurs. “Feel how fucking hard you got me already? That’s all for you.”

Your empty walls clench from his words. Nodding, you whisper, “So hard. So big. Can’t wait to have you inside me.”

He hums and opens his eyes. “Me either. Can I finger you first?”

It’s great that he’s offering because you were just about to request the exact same thing.

“Please.”

Hyunjin wastes no time slipping his hand between your bodies, and you lift up a little higher on your knees to give him more room.

He starts by gently gliding a single finger up and down your slit to gauge how wet you are already. Evidently his findings are unsatisfactory, though, because he quickly removes his hand to bring it up to his face and add some spit to it before bringing it back down. Two of his wet fingers prod shallowly into your hole, and you keen at the sensation.

“Shit, that’s tight,” he mutters, steadily working his knuckles deeper.

It’s clear when he starts searching for your g-spot from the way his fingers start crooking. He has to adjust his depth and angle a few times, but he eventually taps the patch he’s looking for.

Your legs quiver as he starts working up a quick pace against that sweet spot inside you, pressing his fingertips against it with every pump back and forth through your walls.

“Oh god,” you moan, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. Your hips buck after a particularly good push of his fingers, and he hums knowingly.

“Like sitting on my fingers, baby?” he asks. The tone of his voice is pitched deeper than usual, and it sends a shiver up your spine. The hand that isn't currently inside you runs along your thigh soothingly.

You nod and lick your lips. “Yeah,” you breathe. “F-Feels so fucking good…”

“Can’t believe I finally have you sitting over me with my fingers up your pussy right now,” he says, gaze moving in a line from your face to your chest to your pussy and back again.

Smirking down at him, you say, “It’s about to be your big cock inside me.”

Hyunjin groans and bites his lip. “You sure you’re ready to take me? I just got my fingers inside you. Haven’t even fucked you open on them yet.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, leaning down to press your bare chest into his. “Want you inside me so fucking bad, don't want to wait any longer.”

His fingers slip from your soaking cunt as you slot your lips over his, and he sighs when you slip your tongue into his mouth again.

When your hand goes reaching for his cock, he breaks away from the hungry kisses and pants, "Mm, Y/N, wait- We need a condom, yeah? I have some in my room…”

“I have some here.” You steal another quick kiss before drawing open your bedside table to grab one of the foil packets. A quick rip and tug and it’s out of the packaging so you can pinch the tip and roll it smoothly down his burning length.

“Last chance to turn back and not cross this line,” you declare.

“I think it would be even more awkward if we didn’t at this point. B-But it’s cool if you want to stop.”

He sounds nervous of what your answer may be, but you believe he means the words, and you appreciate the consideration all the same.

And you definitely feel sure. You definitely want this.

So you take hold of the base of his cock, line the broad tip up to your entrance, and begin to ease down.

The moment he breaches you, Hyunjin tenses and hisses a sharp breath through his teeth. His hands find purchase on your hips, too tight at first to brace himself against the wet heat you’re surrounding him in even through the condom, but then he eases up after he’s bottomed out.

You sit still once you’re flush against his lap, realizing you need to relish this particular moment because you won’t ever get it back - the ecstasy of feeling him stretch you out like this for the first time.

Hyunjin starts squirming after a bit, fingertips twitching from your hips down to your thighs and back again, unsure what to do with himself while he waits for you. “Baby, please, I think I might go crazy if you don’t move.”

“So impatient,” you tsk but begin to rock against him nonetheless. Careful, slow undulations of your waist to test the depths of the pleasure rippling through you. His breath hitches over a particular swivel, and you moan at the angles he’s hitting just from a little back and forth movement.

“Oh my god, you sound so hot,” Hyunjin praises. “And you feel like fucking heaven.”

“You feel so fucking good too, you feel amazing,” you gush back.

With an idea of how he could feel even better, you lift away from his lap just to sink down quickly. After a few repetitive drops, he reunites with that perfect spot inside you that has your toes curling inward and head tipping back in bliss.

Hyunjin groans along with you over the fast pace you’re picking up, and his hands finally settle for keeping a loose grip on your ass as the flesh of your thighs slaps against his hips with every plunge. Surely he can feel you starting to soak his lap; you can just hear how wet you are with every bounce. It’s sinfully vulgar but so fucking good.

“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N,” he rasps next. “I swear I could watch you bounce on my dick all fucking night.”

You look down just as he flicks his eyes up from your heaving chest to your face, then you grin at having caught what exactly he was finding so gorgeous about you bouncing on his dick. 

Hyunjin licks his lips and sits up to bring his face closer to yours. “So fucking gorgeous,” he repeats on your lips before pressing harder.

You lose concentration over riding him when your mind is on the way his tongue dances behind your teeth, so he helps you out by bucking his hips upward as best he can to keep the stimulation on your sweet spot.

“Hyunjin…” you whine when he pulls back.

“Tell me what to do to make you come, baby, please. Need to feel you come on my cock so fucking bad, I'll do anything.”

From the way he was acting earlier, you half expected Hyunjin’s cocky ass to taunt you with claims of how he can fuck you better than Jisung ever could, not plea for instructions.

It’s almost sweet.

“Fuck me from behind?” you request.

Hyunjin blinks twice, kisses you sloppily several times more, then helps ease you onto all fours in front of him. You spread your knees and lift your backside to present his target to him, but he has his eyes cast down toward your face while you get yourself comfortable.

“Just like this?” he checks once it seems you’re finished moving. One of his hands hints along the small of your back delicately, wanting to touch you but not hold you down.

“Like this,” you confirm.

He takes hold of his cock and presses the tip back to your drenched folds, slicking it up and down a few times before pushing into your hole. He doesn't stop until he's up to his balls. Your pussy accepts his reentry easily, though Hyunjin seems to feel differently.

“You’re so damn tight, Y/N, fuck. When was the last time you got dicked down?”

“That has nothing to do with- oh fuck-”

He gives a sensual roll of his hips while you’re trying to speak, and you lose your train of thought once more. Hyunjin smirks at your reaction and does it again, barely withdrawing before hitting at just the right depth to have you arching your back for more.

“Is that good, baby? Is this how you want me to fuck you?” he asks, starting to build a rhythm. He holds your hips to keep you steady, but there’s not much he can do about rocking the mattress; not if he wants to keep you moaning and dripping and shuddering the way you are.

“Y-yeah, yeah, keep going, I’m getting close,” you urge.

Hyunjin keeps his eyes fixed on the place where his cock plunges in and out of you, spreading your ass cheeks apart to give himself a better view. His balls smack wetly against your clit over and over, enhancing the vulgarity of the skin-on-skin noises ringing in your ears.

It isn't as much stimulation as you need, though, so you dip a hand between your legs to play with yourself, and Hyunjin can feel the instant you touch your clit from the way you suddenly clench around him. The extra tightness draws a grunt from the back of his throat and his hips jerk unsteadily.

He’s been careful to keep his thrusts under control, striking your g-spot repeatedly without brutally battering it, but you can tell he’s losing his composure, losing his breath, losing his head in the steam of your conjoined pleasure. He groans out and pounds into your pussy harder.

The headboard is outright banging against the wall by now. Some part of you wonders how noticeable it is from the rest of the apartment, but most of your concentration is on rubbing faster at your clit while Hyunjin keeps your g-spot on the end of his pistoning dick.

“Almost,” you promise vaguely, but Hyunjin knows exactly what you mean.

His hand meets yours between your legs to lightly knock it out of the way and take over. He uses the pad of his middle finger to pick up where you left off, and the sensation - the utter thrill - of being touched by him hurtles you that much faster toward the edge, even though he's not familiar with your preferred technique yet.

“Come with me, baby, please, I need to fucking feel it. Shit, I’m so fucking close, please come with me,” he begs and babbles breathlessly.

You put your fingers over his to guide him through a few more rotations around your clit. That, coupled with another series of perfectly aimed thrusts of his rigid cock, finally send you toppling into white hot, nerve-racking, spine-crumpling abyss. You climax with a mighty clench and a cry that rips from your vocal chords just before you can suffocate it in your pillow.

“Sh-shit Y/N! You’re seriously coming on my- oh, fffffuck!”

Hyunjin lets go of your clit in a rush to grab your hips with both hands again to brace himself against the onslaught of his own explosive orgasm. You can feel his cock lurch where he’s buried it deep in your clamped walls at the moment of his release. Wave after wave trembles his frame, sending him shivering behind you as his orgasm rolls on and on for so long you almost become concerned.

Eventually, he gives you a comforting squeeze and pants, “You didn’t… you didn’t fake that, did you?”

You can’t help but laugh in pure amusement. “What, my orgasm? No, that was definitely not fake. You made me come so hard, Hyunjin,” you admit shamelessly.

“Okay, just checking,” he laughs back. “It’s just that I couldn’t see your face and-... but it still felt really-... that was so… wow.”

You don’t have it in you to comment on his eloquence - or lack thereof, rather; you don’t exactly have words for what’s just happened either.

He draws his cock from your still-quivering pussy and gets up on wobbly legs to trash the condom in your adjoined bathroom while you slump to your side and swipe the back of your hand across your clammy forehead, swallowing hard to bring some normalcy back to your erratic breathing and thundering heart.

Hyunjin returns with a towel in hand. You wearily lift an arm to take it from him, but he’s already coaxing your legs open to dab carefully at the stickiness smeared between them.

“So sweet,” you joke, finding the energy to tease him after all.

He looks at you and smiles. “It’s cute that you think I’m being sweet when I’m actually just getting a better look at your pussy because I didn’t before.”

He spreads your lower lips apart with his fingers and raises an eyebrow in approval of their sticky, swollen state, to which you gasp in mock offense and swat at his arm. He snickers and drops the towel aside, then climbs back into bed with you.

“I can be sweet, though, if cuddling is an option.”

You open your arms to showcase cuddling is in fact an option, and he sinks his head into a cozy spot beneath your chin. The crown of his golden head smells like apricots, you notice. You gently tug off the elastic band in his hair and roll it onto your wrist before shaking out the freed strands. He hums drowsily as you play with his hair.

After a while, he murmurs, “I should probably go kick everyone out and apologize to Jisung before I fall asleep.”

Again, you giggle. “Shit, I should apologize to him, too. If he’s still out there, that is. If anyone’s still out there. We may have scared everyone off.” You strain your ears for a moment to try and pick up on any more laughter and chatter out there, but all you can hear is the music now.

“You were pretty loud, babe,” Hyunjin points out.

You dig your fingertip into his cheek playfully. “And I’m sure you’ll be bragging about that for weeks to come.”

“Me? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Despite the plans he was making to get up and leave the room, Hyunjin draws his arms tighter around your middle and remains right where he is. A while longer passes before he asks softly, “Can I sleep here with you tonight, or would that be weird?”

“Hey.”

He tilts his head to look at you.

“Don’t overthink things,” you tell him, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t planning on this being a one-time thing, and I think you meant it when you said you didn’t want it to be either, but we can make this whatever we want. It doesn’t have to be complicated, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees.

Hyunjin leans his face in but hesitates when he notices that you don’t close your eyes in preparation for his kiss. You smile and pull him in the rest of the way, and he smiles back against you, eyes on yours.

When he pulls back, he licks his lips and says slowly, “So… I can sleep here with you tonight then?”

You laugh loudly and shove him away. “Go make sure everyone got the hell out of our apartment, then get your ass back here.”

---

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copyright © 2023 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Part 9) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings : fluff and cheese, language, slight angst, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3,866

A/N: One day I may be one of those writers who is well organized and has a preplanned schedule for posting, but unfortunately (and as my first fic), today is not that day. Thank you for your patience during this writing drought. Another chapter will be on the way after this, hopefully in a couple of weeks after another round of edits. Shout out to @cutelittlefakejourneys for your help. As always, thank you for reading and don't be a ghost reader!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

Daniel Ricciardo had been in your room last night. After a long race day filled with anxiety, media, McLaren, and subsequently relief and pride, he had stolen a bottle of champagne from McLaren’s afterparty, and your heart. He had hesitantly conditioned the gift on being consumed after the signing and delicately suggested you share the bottle, evidently afraid he would tear the fragile string that connected the two of you since the beginning. But you didn’t want to wait, so you had invited him in.

“So that’s how you open a bottle without spilling half of it?”

“What can I say, I’m a woman of many talents. Would you feel more comfortable if I gave you one of my heels to drink out of?” He laughed.

“Nah, not dirty or sweaty enough.”

He looked around to see what you had made of your private space. In contrast to the crisp outward appearance you presented as you strutted through the paddock in your tailored suits, your hotel room was a mess. Laptop open, papers spread out over every surface. Your petite figure was dwarfed by the oversized, plush hotel robe. Behind closed doors he realized you were quite ordinary. Not that you were unremarkable, but in the sense that you were perfectly imperfect.  

“What are we toasting to?”

“To finish lines.”

You started out at least trying to be prim and proper, using the hotel’s water glasses as vessels. But at a certain point decorum went out the window and you simply passed the bottle between you sitting cross legged on the floor. Even though it was late, the hours passed like sand through an hourglass.  

“Biggest celebrity crush growing up?”

“Leonardo DiCaprio. Easy. Man has been attractive literally at all stages of my life, from the time I was six watching ‘Growing Pains’ to now. Dude aged like fine wine. Unfortunately though I’ve aged out of his dating pool.”

He observed your lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle, how small your hand looked holding it, and his imagination ventured to unclean places.

“You?”

“Josh Allen,” he said without skipping a beat.

“You were five when Josh Allen was born. I know he’s your boyfriend but that doesn’t count.”

“Fine, fine, fine. I might have had a poster of Kylie Minogue in my bedroom when I was like, twelve.”

The two of you sat side by side at the foot of the bed, your hands inched closer towards one another as the night dwelled on.

“If you could do anything in the world, if money didn’t matter, what would you do?”

“Eh. I think I’d still be a lawyer.” He snorted.

“That’s the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever heard.”

“What? Someone’s gotta do it.”

“Come on. Do you actually love this? You’ve been away from your life in the States for months. And for what?”

“Well, I got to travel the world, meet cool celebrities… I got to know you. That must count for something, right?”

You tried to deliver the earnest statement as casually as possible, hoping he wouldn’t read too much into it. But the heft of your words hung in the air and blended with the little popped champagne bubbles that had evaporated. After months of Daniel tormenting you with flirty comments, it was his turn to try to ignore your flattery.

“Really. Money’s no object. Any job in the world. Go.”

“Ok ok fine. I suppose - Oh I don’t know… Maybe I’d be a food critic. I love to eat, I like to complain, and I like writing, so I feel like that’s the perfect marriage of all those things. Or… maybe I’d just drop off the grid completely. I’ve always dreamed about running off to the rolling hills of Italy and living off the land, maybe I’d open a flower shop or something. Really just live out my Under the Tuscan Sun fantasy. But it’s silly. I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am, I could never imagine throwing it all away.”

“It’s not silly.”

Your sideways glance met his deep pools of dark ember, filled with sincerity. You took a swig of champagne and passed the bottle back to him, wishing to wash away the palpable chemistry that swirled around you.

“What about you?”

“I guess I’d still be doing this.” You frowned, sensing his timidness.

“That’s not fair, you made me pick something.”

“Come on, it’s not like I have any transferable skills. I don’t know what else I could do.”

“You literally have two side hustles already. Wine maker and fashion mogul don’t do it for you?”

You thought you could crack a smile out of him, but instead the corners of his mouth downturned slightly.

“It’s not the same. We already decided the second time we met I could never have a desk job. I’m an adrenaline junkie, I’ve always needed to be in a car. Plus my parents worked hard to get me here, to get those opportunities for me, and seeing them happy makes me happy. I don’t know what else there is.”

“Your mother has a small heart attack every time you race.” You tried to placate his uncertainty, but the light conversation had turned heavy and there was no undoing it.

“Oh, that’s neither here nor there,” he brushed off.

“What about all the cameras constantly in your face? Don’t you miss being anonymous?”

This seemed to make him pause.

“I do… but at the same time, part of the fun was getting to make a name for myself. I’m not sure I fully knew what I was getting myself into, but I knew that fame came with the territory if I was actually good at what I was doing. Do I miss being able to walk down the street or go to a restaurant without being bombarded? Yeah for sure. But even when I had that, I don’t think I enjoyed it because I was always trying to get to the next step.” He paused, the furrow in his brow coming undone. “Do I love it right now in this very moment? No. I need a fucking break. I think you corporate people call it ‘burnout’ or whatever. But I’ve loved it up until now, and I know I’ll love it again eventually. I really can’t imagine doing anything else.”

The space between your fingers had vanished. As though your extremities had a mind of their own, you both looked down to study how they folded over one another. There was no recoiling. Your hand, that apparently had its own free will, sent signals to you to look up again. It was ironic that you had partially declined his invitation to the McLaren afterparty because you were afraid of winding up in a situation that vaguely resembled something exactly like this. Tomorrow was so close yet so far, and your wherewithal to resist the magnetic pull between the two of you was at an all time low. Over the last week leading up to the final race, flashbacks of the kiss in Brazil replayed on a loop in your mind. If you blinked you would’ve missed it when it had happened in real time. But the memory teased you and champagne was buzzing through your veins, clouding your judgment. You wanted to explore. Like a moth to a flame, you began leaning in, your eyes fluttering as his lips went in and out of focus.

Instead of being met with Daniel’s embrace, you toppled over as he got to his feet.

“Champagne’s gone, guess that’s my cue for bed.”

You propped yourself on your elbow as you looked up at him incredulously. How much champagne had you had, that you had so badly misread the situation? You averted your gaze in embarrassment.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

His extended hand came into view. You slowly looked up again, his warm and inviting eyes conveying more than words ever could. You cautiously accepted his help as he got you to your feet, his strong hold steadying you.

“Do you need any help in the morning?” Yeah, just avoid Daniel until it’s over so you don’t lose your job. That would probably be a good start.

“No, I’m good, thanks though. Do you need any help?”He laughed, mostly out of astonishment that you could possibly ask such a question when you had already done so, so much.

“Yeah, if you could just sign for me too that would be great.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm. “Get some rest, yeah?”

And then he was gone. But how could you possibly just get some rest? You tossed and turned, never quite falling into a deep slumber. The scene of two friends on the floor sharing champagne and secrets played over and over. Friends? Colleagues? Business partners? Something else?

It festered as you got ready, before even the sun was up. The tried and true pink suit felt like it might burst at the seams, unable to contain the palpitations in your chest - a concoction of anticipation, nerves, anxiety, and excitement.

-

It was strange, having such a momentous deal take place outside the confines of a grandiose conference room with a dramatic, long, mahogany table overlooking some city skyline and perhaps a beautiful, shiny body of water. It was a status symbol of Big Law, the firm’s ability to peacock to clients how successful they were. The bigger the room and better the view, the more deserving they were of that outrageously high retainer fee they charged.

Instead, you walked into what was left of Red Bull hospitality after the big, final race weekend. Of course it was sleek and modern in its own right, but it gave an air of approachability that was lacking at the firm’s office. Nonetheless, you tried to import formality back into the space. You had printed and made matching binders of copies of the agreement for everyone present, appropriately tabbed and color coordinated. You brought blue, black, and red pens, highlighters, sharpened No. 2 pencils, and legal pads with the firm’s name emboldened at the top. You had gotten to Red Bull early to set up the space yourself, so that all materials were spaced out accordingly for each chair at the table. You took a step back to admire your handy work. Yes, this would do just fine.

Your phone went off.

DR: Where are you? We’re going to be late.

Y/N: I’m already here.

DR: 🙁

DR: You didn’t wait for me?

DR: It’s going to be weird walking there without you.

Y/N: I figured you wouldn’t want to be over an hour early and you could use the extra sleep. I’m sure you’ll manage.  

-

It was weird for Daniel walking to the paddock without you. The whole morning had been weird. It had been too quiet. There was no offkey musical number through his bathroom wall. He missed the sprightly knock at his door that came about ten minutes too early. He missed guessing which of your faces he’d get when you realized he wasn’t ready. He was amazed at how quickly he had gotten used to you. Had they really only been at this hotel for four days? Five?

His memory taunted him as he walked to Red Bull. He recalled himself holding his breath in anticipation as you closed in on him last night. He felt his heartbeat all the way up to his throat, his pulse points throbbed. It was an out of body experience, watching in slow motion as he pulled himself away from you. He finally learned it was for the best, even though the dejected look on your face pained him.

When he got there, he was disappointed to discover he was the last to arrive, wishing he had more moments alone with you. Christian, Joe, and in-house Red Bull lawyer bros sat around you, centering you as a vibrant glow in a sea of dull blues and grays. He was relieved to discover that you had reserved the seat next to you. He felt his face involuntarily break into grin as he noticed you notice him come into frame.

Christian, who was sitting across from you with his back to the door, saw the slightest twitch of your facial muscles. He whipped around, before a smile was fully formed, knowing exactly what it meant.

“The man of the hour! So nice of you to finally join us.” Everyone stood up for another round of hand shakes and self-congratulatory pats on the back. He could hardly maintain eye contact, his gaze constantly darting back to you. You rose to your feet, but remained in place, patiently waiting your turn for him.

He finally stood in front of his reserved chair, directly facing you. He wasn’t sure what to do – he knew you so well, a handshake hardly seemed appropriate. But you were in front of professionals so a hug wouldn’t do. He knew what he wanted to do, and that certainly wasn’t an option. Fortunately you made the decision for him, instinctively sticking your hand out. He would’ve been a little sad about it, but for the knowing twinkle in your eye. Your palms firmly met, and he appreciated how soft and delicate yours were. It was like you were holding hands.

“Eh-hem.”

You cleared your throat, eyes suddenly piercing. It wasn’t until he felt you try to pry your hand away that he realized he had been shaking it about six seconds too long. He finally relinquished his grip and you both sat down.

“Sorry, I spaced out,” he whispered to you. You only gave him a twitch of a smile and a curt nod in return before swiveling your chair to face the other side of the table.

“Now then. Let’s get started, shall we?”

-

Daniel almost felt silly for pushing this whole ordeal back an extra day. Almost. He could imagine you marching out of there muttering this could have been an email under your breath. The contract was, for all intents and purposes, finished and truly just needed to be signed. It only took twenty minutes to do a walk through of the terms, which of course no one objected to after the countless back-and-forth’s of redlines, late night phone calls, and negotiations.  And then, with a swift flick of his wrist, it was set in stone.

He stared at the wet blue ink on the page. He didn’t realize he was smiling until his cheeks started to hurt.

“I guess we’re engaged now. This feels familiar.” When he finally looked up Christian was beaming back at him like a proud dad.

“Welcome back, Daniel. Welcome home.”

-

“You do realize that could’ve been an email?” He laughed as he waited behind for you to pack up your stuff. Joe in typical fashion had exchanged quick pleasantries after the signing and was gone in a flash, off to the next client. The other Red Bull representatives followed suit not long after.

“It could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?” He watched as you stuffed the last binder into your bag, fighting with the zipper. When you finished you looked up to find him staring intently at you, causing you to nearly drop your bag.

“Can I help you?”

He leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. You stared at his tan forearms, noticing his veins bulge.

“That depends… do you like surprises?” You did your best to hide a gulp, your throat suddenly dry. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you thought…

But if he was, two could play at that game.

“Depends on the surprise,” you purred, leaning forward ever so slightly to show off the v of your necklace that led a trail to your hidden cleavage.  

He leaned forward to meet you part way, not breaking eye contact.

“I think you’ll like this one,” he whispered. You felt goosebumps raise on your skin, giddy in suspense. Your heart was about to burst through your chest. Was he really about to take you right here in this office?

Without warning he pushed himself from the table and walked quickly towards the door, leaving you bewildered in the middle of the room. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at you innocently.

“What are you waiting for? Follow me!”

He proceeded to skip down the hallway, forcing you to jog to try to keep up with him.

“Daniel! Wait up! What the hell?”    

He led you to the exit of Red Bull hospitality before he finally stopped.

“I may or may not have called in a favor.”

“Daniel, this isn’t funny. What –“

You stopped in your tracks as the doors opened. With your jaw on the floor, you let out a silent scream as Geraldine Estelle Halliwell Horner, aka Geri, aka Ginger Spice, aka one-fifth of the iconic girl group The Spice Girls, stood in front of you in the flesh. As a child of the 90’s, this moment felt biblical.

Apparently Christian was also there. “Oh Darling, I have someone I want to introduce you to.”

You were already barely functioning when she turned away from her husband and made direct eye contact with you. Then, as though it were a conversation about the weather, she very casually said “Oh hello. You must be y/n, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Your hand gripped over your chest. Eyes wide, you looked to Daniel to confirm she was not a hologram, but he only gave you a wide grin, then back to Geri who was waiting patiently for you to act like a human which was unfortunately too big of an ask.

“I-you’re-ohmygodIcan’tbelievethisishappening-I-hi-I mean…. You know my name.” You dissolved into fits of nervous giggles. Daniel stood there very pleased with himself. He was a little insulted you weren’t this starstruck when you met him, but it was overshadowed by the immense satisfaction he felt that he initiated something that made you so happy.

Geri gave a sympathetic smile. Clearly this was not the first time a fan lost their shit at her mere presence. “I do. I hear you’ve been very busy the last few weeks.”

“What? Oh, right. Yeah I’ve spent a lot of time with Daniel and your husband.” you blabbed, quickly changing the topic. “Do you and the girls still hang out regularly? Spice World was my favorite movie growing up, and-and-and I memorized all of the choreography to Stop and Spice Up Your Life.” You continued talking a million miles a minute.

“Well that’s good to know in case we ever need a fill-in,” she joked trying to put you at ease. Your demeanor quickly sobered and you put a hand over your heart.

“Oh, Miss Halliwell. I could never replace Victoria on your next reunion tour, but if you absolutely insist I would be honored to step in to ensure the show goes on,” you swore in earnest. Geri slowly nodded, locking eyes with Daniel behind you doing her best to telecommunicate with him. What the fuck. He only shrugged as he continued beaming.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said slowly and politely. Daniel finally interjected.

“Y/n, you have to pack and I’m sure Geri and Christian have their own flights to catch…”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time,” you said, Daniel’s voice beginning to bring you back down to earth. You rummaged through your bag, before proudly presenting your hand to her. “Here’s my card in case you or any of the girls need any type of legal assistance, happy to go over any contracts for you or whatever else you may need.” Geri’s forced smile relaxed, appreciating your hustle and intellect.

“This is great, thank you. Girl power, right?” And just like that you were back on Saturn. You proudly held up a peace sign as though you were giving an oath.

“Girl Power. Forever,” you swore. Daniel gently put his hand on your lower back to try and herd you along, but you turned to look back as you walked. “And now that you have my number, let me know if you ever want to get your nails done together or get coffee or even a yoga class!” you called after her. Geri chuckled and waved.

“It was nice meeting you too,” she shouted back.

“Good seeing you too y/n – what am I, chopped liver?” You kept walking and waved him off.

“Oh right, sorry. Yeah yeah, nice seeing you too Christian. Pleasure doing business.”

You proceeded to gush about the encounter the entire way back to the hotel. Your hands flailed in the air as you excitedly repeated every little detail, even though Daniel had also been there to witness the whole thing. Your eyes were bright and wide, still processing the adrenaline.

“So did I do alright then?” he asked cheekily as you approached your rooms.

“Did you do alright?! That was one of the best moments of my life, I could kiss you!” 

The words slipped out before you had a chance to think, stopping both of you in your tracks. They hung heavy in the air, waiting for an answer. But for the tension that had dragged on, and built, and compounded on itself for months, the statement would never be interpreted as anything other than an innocent, facetious comment for dramatic effect. But Daniel looked at you intently hoping you meant it. He turned his body to align with yours as you remained frozen, and cautiously stepped forward to remove the space between you. Your mouth parted slightly, trying to find words to explain yourself but drew a blank. He leaned in ever so slightly, his hot breath beating on the side of your face and tickling your ear.

“So do it,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear him. You dared to lock eyes with him, searching for an answer. His hand finally did what it had wished to do for so long, gently pushing hair out of your face and finding a home at the nape of your neck. He left it there, but he didn’t have to use any force to bring you together as your heads naturally tilted and pulled inwards like magnets. It was dizzying having his face so close to yours, feeling his breath tickle your nose and your cheeks, stoking the flush that had your face burning.

It was only when your lips were so close that you inhaled each other’s oxygen that you suddenly remembered you were in a very public hallway. You were still in your suit, that felt like it was about suffocate you. To his disappointment, and yours, you fell into old patterns. You pried yourself out of his orbit, stumbling backwards.

“Would you look at the time? I, um, need to go pack. Long flight tomorrow,” you stammered, as you continued backwards towards your room. 

“y/n…”

“Congratulations again, I’m super happy for you.”

“Can we at least talk about this?” You fumbled with your keys pretending not to hear him, your focus on the floor.

“It was great working with you. You have a bright future back at Red Bull, I’m sure everything will work out. Have a safe trip back to Perth.”

And with that final, clinical, arms-length message, you left him in the hallway. 

[hellsburners]

burning red

summary: you swear you wouldn't fuck on a window. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male!reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, roomate!peter, violence mentioned (a movie they watch), alcohol, blowjobs, gay sex, top!peter, rimming, anal sex, slight angst?, fuck buddies, window sex, semi-public sex a/n: omg mike finally writes a fic above 1k words act shocked!

masterlist | more peter parker

Two broke New Yorkers, that’s what you two were. Your roommate Peter worked selling pictures to an online news outlet called The Daily Bugle, while you wait tables at an Asian restaurant. It was late at night and you two just got home from work, Peter brought home cold beer while you got free leftovers from the restaurant. 

He was sitting on your small worn-out couch watching a shitty slasher movie on your laptop. You were in the kitchen waiting for the noodles to finish heating in the microwave. At this point, it was a ritual for you two, watching movies while eating amazing cheap food. The food finished heating and you put them in two bowls, aromatic steam filled the room. 

“What happened?” you asked while bringing the food down on the coffee table. Peter was sipping on the amber-colored bottle. 

“These two dudes were fucking in their apartment window until the killer found them, and now it’s the dad giving a speech at the high school,” he said taking the bowl of noodles. 

“If I ever had the chance to get laid I wouldn’t do where other people could see,” you muttered. You take the bowl of food and slurp on the savory dish. Peter side-eyed you in confusion. You look at him and laugh. “Why? You’d get laid in public?”

“I mean, if I had to,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Plus, you’re here all the time. How am I supposed to get some privacy.”

“Oh, I bet you do, Mr. I-fucked-blackcat-at-a-rooftop,” you were fully immersed in the banter, you could see someone getting brutally stabbed in the movie through your peripheral. He laughs at your comment. You knew Peter’s side job, he would talk to you about his experiences all the time. 

“And you would do it too!” 

“Yeah, Black Cat is so hot I’d fuck them too.” he laughs at your retort. 

“I mean I wouldn’t mind doing you in that window either,” Peter muttered, eyeing the small window in your living room. Your brows furrowed while you side-eyed him. He took another sip of his beer, he gave you a flirtatious wink. Your cheeks warmed, from the alcohol, from Peter, you couldn’t pinpoint. 

“You’re fucking drunk, Pete,” you said bringing your finished bowl to the table. 

“I had one bottle, I’m not,” he rests his head on your shoulder. “You wouldn’t do me?” 

Little did this little shit know that you’ve had the biggest crush on this man ever since he tutored you on biochemistry in college. You could feel his soft brown hair on your cheek, the way he smells like the ocean in the morning, or waking up to a drizzling rain. Your heart races.

“You shouldn’t be joking around like that you asshole,” you took a big gulp of the beer, trying to hide your shaking voice. “I’m not looking for anything serious anyway.”

“I’m not,” he whispered, there was a seriousness in his tone. “Who says it should be serious? We’re just two guys getting it on.”

There was a sting in your chest. Nothing serious. You moved your shoulder signaling for Peter to get off. You catch him staring at you, his face growing stubble from being overworked. A few seconds pass of you two just staring at each other. He takes his hand to your warm cheeks.

“You’re so red right now, it’s adorable,” you close your eyes and suck all the air around you. “Can I kiss you? As friends of course.”

You nod, slowly coming closer to his face. Your lips touch, his were soft and warm, the stubble pricking your skin. You run your hands through his hair as the kiss deepens. Your tongue meets his, making you feverish. You gently pull him with you as you lay down on the couch. Peter takes his cardigan off while you loosen your drawstring shorts. You pull his shirt off, tracing your hands on his chest down to his abs. 

“Just two guys getting on,” you whisper. He starts to go down on you, swallowing your head. Your head extends from the pleasure, eyes closed, teeth biting your lip trying to stifle a moan. You tug on his hair, he moans with your sex muffling his sounds. 

He releases your cock with a pop. He stands up from the couch and reaches a hand to you. “Come with me, let me show you something.”

While holding your waist, he guides you to your apartment window. He puts both of your arms on the windowsill, arching your back. He kneels and eats you out, his tongue licking your hole, you went in to cover your mouth to hide your noises. Peter asks you to take them off and how it made him so hard to hear you moan. He fingers you with such preciseness he finds your sensitive areas with ease. 

 Peter unbuckles his jeans and pulls them down with his underwear. You turn around to look at him under the moonlight. A tall man, with lean muscle all over, a faint trail of brown hair leading to his crotch. There you saw his erect cock, it was long and a perfect girth. He strokes it, pre-cum coming off the tip.

A few moments later, you feel him insert his cock lubed and the condom placed. He takes you from the back, leaving messy kisses on your nape. You both moan from fucking each other, Peter knew how to sync your rhythms producing the filthiest whimpers from you. He takes your cock, pumping it as he fucks you. 

“Peter,” your words slurred at this point. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“Of course, fuck, you’re so tight,” he wraps his long arms around your whole body, hugging you while he ruts into you. “Shit, we should've done this years ago.” 

“I’m so close,” you moaned, your cock dripping so much pre. 

“Me too,” Peter curses. He pulls out, you almost curse at him for fucking with you like this when you’re close. He takes you and lifts you to sit on the windowsill. He takes your kegs at his sides to finish you off. He takes you in his arms, fucking you feverishly. You swore people could’ve heard you but you didn’t care, you were fucking the prettiest boy in your life. 

His thrusts become erratic. You sloppily make out as he fucks you. You both moan in each other's mouths as you cum. He takes you down the windowsill to kiss you more. 

“I could’ve fallen from the window,” you said, catching your breath. He laughs, carrying you to the couch. 

You sat on the couch wearing his shirt, he placed his cardigan on his lap while your legs rested in them. You both were gulping some cold water. 

“So, tomorrow?” he said. You nod, bringing your cups to a toast. 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the second act (not old enough ch.2)

pairing: leon kennedy/reader

cw: smut, age gap, mild daddy kink, oral f!receiving

summary: reader and Leon have a another little rendezvous a few months after their first. You're both sober this time and the ambiance is nicer, but is it enough for you two to become something more?

word count: 3.5k

ao3 link

Leon’s in a ballroom, mingling with government officials and other people whose names he won’t remember the next day. He’s dead sober, and all it gives him is hyper awareness of the fact that everyone who shakes his hand would throw him to the wolves and watch like a spectator sport. He knows that by now. He’s not the baby-faced rookie he once was, not so trusting, not like you. He’s knows he’s the best agent, not the best friend.

When he sees you, you’re wearing an elegant dress, something he’d never imagined you in. You look gorgeous, too - that was the one thing about you that hadn’t changed. You were always beautiful, no matter what you chose to wear. It wasn’t Leon’s opinion, it was a fact. He was sure of it.

You were chatting with other attendees, with a smile as fake as his. It takes one to know one, he thought, she’s a great liar. You’re playfully touching some older douchebag who looks familiar to Leon, but he can’t quite place him when every person here has their suits tailored by the same guy.

You catch his eye while he’s staring at you, not even gawking, but thinking, you can see he’s confused. Leon’s got his elbow on the table, pretending to drink, but it’s only seltzer in the glass. That secret’s between him and the bartender.

You make an excuse to leave the men you’re with for a moment, jogging excitedly towards Leon in a way that forces a smile from his stubborn mouth. It’s not even about him, you’re just cute in a way that’s so foreign to him. He learned cynicism so early, he’s been sucked dry of that type of sweetness, the kind you radiate.

He was probably the same at 18, but his memory is foggy for about a million reasons, none of them being alcohol anymore. Sobriety is still something he’s working on getting used to.

He stops you before you hug him with a gentle interrogation.

“Why are you here?” He’s neither happy, nor angry. It’s mostly confusion, maybe awe at how you can mold yourself so well to this atmosphere, too.

“Same reason anyone is, I guess,” You say with your typical nonchalance.

“What reason might that be?”

“To jerk each other off in the hopes of favors in the form of cash, status, or maybe even literal jerk off sessions.”

“Thought you’d say something different, but you’re smarter than I expected. How’d you get here? What age did you tell the bartender you were?” He points to the glass in your hand, half-empty.

“My date got it for me.”

“Your date, huh?”

“Yeah,” you can’t hide a sour face when you mention him.

“Not a match?”

“Never thought it would be.”

“So you’re here for cash or status? Since you clearly don’t wanna fuck that dude.”

“Cash,” you say, in a whisper, “I hate saying that. I don’t wanna be this ‘sugar baby’ or whatever. I just -”

“Hey, I get it. No judgment from me. You gotta do what you can to get by.”

You change the subject because your life isn’t the most comfortable or interesting topic for you.

“You seem very sober tonight?” You ask.

“I am.” Leon’s small smile is a proud one. “You seem more sober than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah,” you say, heat rising to your cheeks, remembering things you did when you were drunk, “Thanks for making me take a cab home. I don’t wanna think about what else I would’ve done.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m thinking about calling you one now.”

“I’m not leaving, though.”

“You should be.”

“I bet you used to drink at my age, too. Can’t you just get off my back about it?”

“I don’t care about that. Listen, a lot of the men here are not good guys. I don’t want something bad to happen to you.”

“You’re not my dad.”

“Thank god. I’d be doing a shitty job if I were. Letting you go out and have sex with a stranger in a bathroom stall.”

“Hey! You did it, too. And you liked it.”

“You didn’t?”

You took a large swig of your champagne.

“That’s what I thought.” Leon gave you a smug smile. “Had you practically screaming.”

“Maybe I’m just easy,” you shrug and pause before saying, “or maybe I was faking it.”

“Yeah, you are easy, but you weren’t faking it, sweetheart. I have enough experience in that department to know the difference.”

“Oh? So you’ve had girls fake it with you?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t always good at it.”

Even though the sex you’d had with him was dirty, literally and figuratively, you loved it. It would’ve been better if there'd been a romantic ambiance. It would’ve been better if Leon was sober like he was right then, standing in front of you. He was so much hotter this way. Irresistible.

With a few more drinks, you’d get on your knees and beg him to take you into the nearest bathroom and do it all again, but you could maintain composure after only one glass.

You weren’t going to drink more anyway, not because you cared what Leon said, but because you wanted to remember the way he looked in that suit.

He gave you a knowing smile. “Whatcha thinkin' about?”

“Nothin’,” You said, turning to face the other way, hiding your embarrassment.

“Mhm.”

Leon was going to keep teasing you because the faces you made were so cute, but he wasn’t going to give into your charms this time. He would make sure you got home safe and that would be all.

Everything would be different if you were a little older. Sure, his sobriety would still give him the rationale he needed not to fuck you senseless in an adjacent room, but maybe you’d come over to his place after a real date. He’d take you out to dinner first because that’s what you deserve. You don’t deserve whatever this is, especially when you don’t understand how bad it is.

Your conversation alone feels precarious to him. You both have to lean in close to speak like every word is gossip, and in a way, it is, or it would be if it got passed around, and that’s the problem with the game you’re playing. Leon isn’t sure whether he’d get high fives or a stern talking to at the office if anyone found out about you, and he didn’t want either.

He didn’t want to take you home, not in that way, but he saw the way that other men looked at you, and it didn’t feel like an act of jealousy, it was protection. They’d hurt you, they’d use you. But what was he doing?

You were an enigma in Leon’s mind and maybe that’s what excited him. He couldn’t fit you into any box. You weren’t his girlfriend, you weren’t his friend, you weren’t his fuck-buddy - it was something entirely different.

The moment he first spoke to you the line had been crossed. He was already on the other side of it. Every move he made was wrong. Any choice was a bad one. Leaving you alone, telling you to fuck off, was just sending you to another man, one who’d treat you much worse. Yet, allowing you to stay, linger there beside him, even worse, allow himself to enjoy your presence - wasn’t he the same as the old creep across the room?

Later that night, Leon has you in a hotel room he hadn’t planned on booking. The employee at the front desk knew what you were going upstairs to do. You were both clearly antsy, unprepared to stay, and coming from a social gathering. She stared right through you and saw the future you hadn’t yet.

Leon gets you both a nice room because he’s too old to skimp on things like a nice bed to sleep in - he’ll wake up with back pain if he tries. He told you at the gala that you were getting separate beds, but ended up in a king sized bed with you. He couldn’t even be mad.

You were eager to get your hands on him the moment the door shut, but Leon stopped you, gently grabbing your wrists.

“If we’re doing this again, we’re doing it right this time,” he said, holding your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He looks like he’s not sure whether to lecture you or kiss you.

“Did we mess it up last time? I thought you were experienced.”

“Yeah, we fucked up big time.”

“It’s a good thing we’re doing it again then.”

“No, it’s not,” he whispers into your mouth, kissing you softly.

You knew what it was like to have him so deep inside you that you could feel him hitting your cervix, but this was the first time you’d felt the way he could tease you with only the tip of his tongue.

He would brush his tongue gently over yours and pull back when you tried to reciprocate. It was agonizing, yet tantalizing. If your hands weren’t fiddling with his belt buckle, you’d grab his face and force his lips against yours.

When he caught you trying to unbuckle his belt, he gently took your hands away, and whispered into your ear, “Don’t get greedy.”

You felt the tickle of his stubble against your cheek and then his teeth grazing your neck, threatening to leave marks on your skin, but that would risk the secret rendezvous becoming local news.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, and he guided you backwards to the bed. It took only a few steps backward for the backs of your legs to hit the bed frame, making you topple onto your back on the plush duvet. You expected Leon’s figure looming over you, so when he tried to stand, you took him by the lapels. He let you pull him in for one kiss, giving you only an ounce of the passion he had for you.

“Mm-mm,” he shook his head, pulling back from your lips, making you pout.

He laughed lightly at you, “Patience. You’re gonna like this.”

You wanted to say something snarky back, tell him he didn’t know what you liked yet, tell him you liked his lips on yours, but then he sank to his knees in front of you, next to the bed. He watched your expression shift from irritation to awe, relief, gratitude.

“Spread your legs,” he said, giving you the opportunity to comply before he pushed them apart himself.

Leon took off your heels for you, unbuckling them gently and placing them on the floor with such care. You already felt spoiled before his mouth was placing wet kisses up your ankles to your thighs all the way to the lace trim of your panties. You groaned at the first press of his lips against your clit through the fabric. You couldn’t even blame it on the drunkenness.

He wanted to laugh at how delicate you were, how quickly he could get you to break.

Sliding your panties down your legs, he asked, “Did you wear these for me?”

“Do you like them?”

“Love them,” he said, slipping them into his pocket.

Leon stood up and watched betrayal wash over your face.

“Hold on,” he chuckled, “Don’t get mad yet.”

He took off his jacket and tie, while you watched.

“Just don’t want anyone ruining my best suit,” he mumbled.

Your cheeks were burning, knowing that you were already soaking wet and could very well have left a stain on his suit.

He paid no mind to your embarrassment, though. His gaze was fixed between your thighs, only coming up to meet your eyes when he was on his knees again, so he could watch you melt. He kissed everywhere except for where you really wanted it. His lips and tongue trailed along your thighs and hips, and you thought his teasing would be endless.

“Please, Mr. Kennedy,” you begged.

“Just wanted to see how long it would take for you to say it.”

The noise you made when his tongue made contact with your clit was obscene. You felt him laugh into your core, making you even more embarrassed. Nothing mattered, though, once he dedicated himself to going down on you. He kissed you with a kind of reverence not even your lips had felt. Normally, you’d find the sounds of your wetness embarrassing, but hearing the way he savored the taste of you was sexy.

He didn’t have any further remarks to make you hot and bothered. He needed nothing to push your buttons because you were giving him every reaction he wanted. Leon let you tug on his hair, despite the fact that he would rarely let anyone near it. You didn’t need to force him to do anything though because he was giving you exactly what you wanted, a determination, a devotion to this like no other man before.

For once you were trying not to come because it felt so good you couldn’t stand the idea of losing the feeling. You only ended up lasting five minutes at maximum, but neither of you were counting.

You tried to warn him that you were close, but all that came out was incoherent babbling, which quickly turned to sobs of relief. You were on the verge of tears while your arousal was soaking his face. He led you through your orgasm with his soft lips, and then stood up and leaned over you, meeting you face to face. You weren’t sure whether you should feel gratitude or embarrassment when you saw his messy hair and plump red lips, but he smiled and kissed you on the cheek, giving you the “my pleasure” to the “thank you” on the tip of your tongue.

Leon stepping back to take off his belt felt like a cue for you to get on your knees, but watching you get up off the bed, Leon said, “Leaving already?”

He wouldn’t have been mad if you were, as long as you got home safe.

“No, I was gonna return the favor.”

“It wasn’t a favor. I enjoyed myself, too.”

“Letting me down easy? I promise I’ll do a good job.”

“I’m not doubting your abilities, but that’s not what I want right now.”

Truthfully, he would feel wrong doing it. It wouldn’t be sexy to see the innocence in your eyes. It would feel criminal, like he was corrupting you in an irreversible manner.

“What do you want right now?”

You wanted to make him unfold in front of you, so you could level the playing field.

“You know what I want. Unless, you’re tired.”

The dazed look in your eyes lingered, and ever the worrier, Leon needed to know that you were still fully into this.

“I’m not tired.”

“Don’t need a break?”

“It’s been like five minutes,” you whined, “That’s a long enough break.”

“I thought an orgasm would satisfy you, at least for a bit, but you’re still so impatient.”

“You can’t just stand there almost naked and expect me not to want you.”

“You don’t need to flatter me. You already have me.”

Desperation coursed through your veins, causing you to whine, “Oh my god, Leon, just fuck me already!”

Leon looked at you wide-eyed, a smirk of amusement barely concealed by a stern expression on his face. You weren’t on a last name basis, but he hadn’t expected the first time you’d say his first name would be in a sentence so demanding and naughty. It felt like insubordination, even though it wasn’t.

“I didn’t expect you to have such a dirty mouth,” he said, stepping towards you slowly.

Your nerves were high but your arousal was higher.

When he didn’t get a response from you, he said, “You’re going all quiet on me now, huh? Pretending to be a good girl again?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kennedy…”

There was something inside of you that needed him to be proud of you, but the apology was still mostly in the hopes of gaining what you wanted.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, pretty girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You looked at him through dewy, yet grateful eyes.

“You can’t help it when you’re like this, right?”

His fingers started playing with your pussy again, feeling your evident arousal, which hadn’t subsided post-orgasm.

You nodded, giving him a pitiful, yet adorable look.

“Please…” you said, after a beat of silence, minus the sounds of your wetness.

“Please what?”

“Please, Mr. Kennedy…”

He smiled and laughed lightly, realizing you assumed he wanted respect rather than clarification.

“No, baby, I want you to ask for what you want,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face and rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you,” you said, barely being able to think with his hands still touching you.

“Okay, I wanna go slow, though, yeah?”

You nodded, wanting it now, in whatever fashion he would give it to you.

You thought slow sex was boring sex until Leon came into your life. He brought a heightened passion to every encounter regardless of the speed of his thrusts. His lips were on yours, capturing every breath until he couldn’t stand the thought of not hearing your pretty noises.

His kisses trailed down your cheek to your jaw to your neck all delicate. His breath in your ear telling you how beautiful you looked and how good you were being. His words made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but his fingers brushing your nipples made your back arch off the mattress. Not to mention the slow strokes of his dick, coaxing needy moans from your mouth.

You thought you’d be begging for it harder and faster, but every thrust inside you felt deeper and that was beyond satisfying. Soon, your legs were pressed up against your chest and he was so deep inside you that you could see his dick in your abdomen with every thrust. The feeling of him hitting that sensitive spot inside you was bringing you closer to the edge, but the sight was what was making your eyes roll back into your head.

Leon saw how close you were and he whispered to you, sweet and sexy all in one, “I can feel you squeezing around me, baby. You gonna come for me?”

You wanted to say, “Uh-huh”, but it came out as a strangled moan and then, “Daddy!” as you came.

He ignored the slight pang of guilt that came with the word for a moment to let himself drink in the overpowering feeling of pleasure. His orgasm following yours quickly.

Lying next to you, after you both came back from oblivion, he asked the dreaded question, “Did you call me ‘Daddy’?”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean to. It just came out. Did it make you feel weird?”

“A little, but it was hot. I think you could’ve said anything coming out of your mouth would be hot, though.”

Leon holds you while you sleep and tries to forget about any lingering guilt he feels after you call him daddy. Your warm body pressed against his and the feeling of your steady heartbeat and soft breathing seem to do the trick. 

The next morning he calls you a cab back to your apartment. You both have busy schedules.

You ask him on your way out, “My 19th birthday is coming up and I’m having a party. Do you wanna come?”

You’re hoping he’ll say ‘yes’, sort of expecting him to based on the night before.

But he doesn’t. He says, “No offense, but I think a 37 year old man hanging out with a bunch of teenagers would be kind of weird. Don’t you think?”

There’s a twinge of embarrassment inside you, realizing that he was right and you probably shouldn’t have even asked. Then again, you really want more time with him, so you say, “But you hang out with me and it’s not weird.”

You thought that was the truth, but when he doesn’t meet your gaze, you continue, “Is it?”

Leon sighs before speaking. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s the nicest way he can say it, but it hurts.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re too young for me.”

“I wasn’t too young for you last night.”

The statement hits him hard, even if you didn’t mean for it to - it’s just true.

“Yeah,” he says, not knowing if he means that you weren’t too young for him to have sex with or that you were. Neither answer feels good.

With tears in your eyes, you ask, “Did you use me for sex? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No,” he says, “I actually care about you believe it or not, but that’s why we can’t keep doing this.”

“What do you mean?”

“You deserve someone who can give you more than this.”

Leon wipes the tears off your cheeks and you ask, “Why can’t you give me more? You could be that person.”

“No, I can’t.”

The unsaid apology fills his blue eyes, and you accept it, reluctantly, when you stare into them.

He kisses your forehead as a final goodbye and says, “If you need anything, you can always call me.”

You hug him tightly, holding something that will never be yours, just borrowing time. He allows you to, rubbing your back. This is all he can give you…

[blueicequeen19]

Blackout

Warnings: unprotected intoxicated sex

I wake up naked with a sticky mess between my thighs and my pussy sore. More sore than it’s ever been. I’m still groggy from sleep as I try to wake up and put together what happened last night. The familiar smell of the room tells me that I’m in JJ’s bed which means the arm thrown over my waist belongs to him. My head is still spinning from the alcohol so I don’t try to sit up to look at him. He’s sleeping peacefully on his stomach, our bodies pressed firmly together. He’s practically burning me with the heat of his body. JJ’s chin is resting against my shoulder as he exhales low and long, the smell of alcohol still there but he looks so damn cute.

We definitely fucked last night and I don’t remember a thing about it.

Thank god I’m on birth control.

The urge to empty my bladder suddenly hits me the more alert I become so I have no choice but to carefully untangle myself from him to dip into the bathroom. I clean up the best I can although my hair is a rats nest and I’m still slightly swaying on my feet.

I make a mental note to never play Tequila Slaps with JJ ever again. The thought of tequila makes me nauseous so I quickly take sips of water from the sink. I straighten again to study myself in the mirror. No one had ever marked me - or claimed me - the way that he has. Aside from my hair, there were more hickies than I’d ever had in my life along with teeth marks and finger bruises.

How did we fuck this intensely and I don’t even remember? Fucking tequila. My arm brushes my nipple and I wince, the nubs sensitive as hell and throbbing. What did he do to me?

I wonder back out to the bedroom to find JJ still in the same spot I’d left him in. It would be stupid now to go sleep out on the pullout couch after what obviously happened last night so I scoop up one of his shirts to pull on when he clears his throat, telling me he’s awake.

“Don’t put that on.” His deep, throaty sleep filled voice instantly gives me butterflies, my greedy and sore pussy pulsing in response.

“I’m naked.” I hiss, like he doesn’t know that.

“I’m aware. Lay back down.” JJ grumbles without ever opening his eyes. I hesitate, fully aware that if I climb back in that bed that I might as well mount him too because when he rolls over onto his back, his dick is painfully hard and ready. His blue eyes finally open just enough to glare at me as he holds his arm out, waiting for me to curl in next to him.

“I think we fucked last night, dude.” I mumble, slowly lowering myself down on the bed next to him. I want to hide myself but what’s the point? He’s obviously already seen it.. fucked it.. tasted it. “I don’t remember anything.”

“Hmm. I can tell.” JJ murmurs, his voice still low and filled with sleep. And now lust. “My dick is raw.” I let him pull me into his arms, my breasts smashed against his side and he pulls my leg up over his waist. This felt.. right. I just had uncontrollably butterflies in my stomach and my pussy was throbbing.

“JJ—.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” JJ immediately cups my face, tilting my head up as he smashes his lips to mine. I moan into his mouth, my hand twisting in his hair as he turns to press his body against mine. I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began as he devoured my mouth. I’m gently pushed onto my back before he’s on top of me, spreading my legs wide. He pulls back to sit up and watch between our bodies as he runs his cock up and down my slit.

“You cleaned up. That’s not fair. I wanted to see my work.” JJ rasps, his hooded gaze focused on my dripping pussy.

“JJ.” I whimper, aching to have him inside me but I was nervous. Maybe even self conscious.

“Shh. We’re still drunk. We don’t know what we’re doing.” JJ gives me a small smile, making me relax a little before he thrusts inside me. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open as he fills me deeply, too deeply. I watch as his head tips back with a low sexy moan that has me clenching even harder. His mouth covers mine again as he starts to move, his hands shoving my knees to my shoulders.

“Oh, fuck.” My back threatens to arch as he hits that sweet spot with every stroke, my eyes nearly crossing as I claw at his back.

“Do you remember now?” JJ growls in my ear, moving just right so the bed doesn’t slam against the wall. I hiccup a sob as my body heats beyond measure. Images of us sweaty and rolling around in the sheets flashed before my eyes, his tongue buried between my thighs, and his cock so far down my throat that I can’t breathe. I suck in a breath as I start to cum, his hand clamping down over my mouth to muffle the sounds that I can’t stop as he completely wrecks me. I become desperate. Desperate for more as I claw at his shoulders, locking my legs around his waist as I meet his movements. One orgasm quickly turned to two and tears filled my eyes from the pure intensity of it.

“There she is. My little wild cat, desperate for cock.” JJ taunts, lifting up on his knees and planting a hand on my chest to hold me down as he keeps delivering brutal blows to my sore pussy. He was right. I was desperate for his cock.

“Yes, yes, yes.” I chant, bringing my fingers to my clit in time for my pussy to gush more cum. I didn’t even care how sore I was from the inside out. I just didn’t want to stop cumming and I didn’t want to miss his face when I did.

I can tell by the way he’s panting as he pounds into me that’s he’s close too but I was far from satisfied. There was no way I’d be able to leave this room anytime soon.

[bad268]

Truth or Hydrate (ElasticDroid X Streamer! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous 

Requested: Nope

Warnings:  Language (as always), alcohol, sexual jokes, chat calling reader a “pick me,” basically word for word of the video just in a different order.

Pronouns: None used (First person) but menstruating reader

W.C. 1916

Summary:  During the Truth or Hydrate stream, everyone gets a little too drunk, but it's all fun and games until someone's feelings get hurt.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Screen shot from a video idr which)

“What’s up gamers? How y’all doing today?” Droid started off as people began flooding into the stream. I was grabbing a couple of drinks from the fridge as the guys bantered back and forth before taking the spot on the ground between Droid and Grizzy. “Someone wanna explain bruh? It’s a lot.”

“Bitch, it’s your thing!” Grizzy laughed along with Puffer and Pezzy while rolled my eyes and cracked open a Mike’s. 

“Geez, we’re doing truth or drink,” Droid explained, going into deeper detail. Puffer, jokingly, started snoring, so Droid said, “Aye, quiet down in the back, yeah?”

“Chat says it's a slumber party,” I laughed, pointing out the one message I could see from my spot. 

“Guys, take your shoes off, stay awhile. Slumber party!” Pezzy joked, enthusiastically. “Are your feet stinky?”

“Mine aren’t, but I’d rather Droid keep his shoes on,” I pressed, pushing his feet away from me with a laugh as he tried to smell them. He put them toward Puffer to which he gagged before pushing Droid’s feet away. 

“I can smell them from here actually! Those actually smell,” Puffer complained. Droid tried to smell his feet again, and he made a face before putting his shoes on.

“You realized they stink?” I asked rhetorically, plugging my nose and leaning away.

“Don’t act like yours smell like roses,” He retorted, pushing his feet toward me.

“I showered today, so they smell like my soap, dumbass,” I cringed as I shoved his feet away. 

“Okay, what are we doing?” Pezzy asked.

“This is the dealio,” Droid started. “Truth or drink. If someone doesn’t want to answer a question, they have to take a shot.”

“Oh, this was meant to be hot sauce?” Grizzy asked, looking at the box.

“Yeah, wanna try it?” I asked, jokingly pulling out a mini Tabasco from my pocket and offering it to him.

“No,” Grizzy said skeptically.

“He’s a pussy, dude,” Pezzy stated.

“Y’all keep it at 89 fucking degrees in this house. You think I want hot sauce right now?” Grizzy emphasized.

“That’s all Pezzy, bruh,” Droid muttered.

“Bitch you were just freezing before the stream,” Grizzy pointed out, and Droid agreed before putting his hand on Grizzy’s arm. “WOAH!” Pezzy and Puffer grabbed his hand, feeling how cold it actually was, in shock. 

I held out my hand because I wanted to see as Pezzy asked, “Are you okay?”

Droid put his hand in mine as he responds with, “I am now.” I jokingly ripped my hand from his as chat exploded. 

“Okay, back on topic. Who are we asking the questions to?” I asked, taking another drink and leaning back to look up at Droid.

“It’s a group thing, so everybody in the room pretty much,” Droid responded, handing me the box to look it over. 

“Shit, we’re gonna need more alcohol,” Grizzy and I muttered.

“How many secrets y’all got, dog?” Droid asked in shock.

Puffer drew first, and his question was, “The most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done.”

“I shit my pants in a car ride home with my friends,” Grizzy said immediately. We all started talking over each other until Grizzy interrupted us, “I was like 8, bro!”

“I got one,” Puffer paused as Droid said that he knew it. “I fell in the San Antonio River.”

“OH! What the fuck?!” Droid shouted. All of us started laughing as Puffer told the story of the bike breaking and flinging him into the river. “There’s no ladder, so once you’re in, you’re in.”

“My dad took me to the track,” Droid started, going into a long story about how he shit himself immediately after arriving home. “I think I was just relieved to be home and I made it far enough.” 

“Jesus, mine’s not nearly that bad,” I laughed. “I bled through my pants at a guy’s house like a year ago,” I paused as they started laughing. “Dude really hit me with the ‘did you spill Hawaiian punch on my couch?’ and I have not talked to him since.”

“Fuck man, mine was when I was in school and I trusted a fart too much,” Pezzy began. “I had to call my mom and say I shit my pants.”

“Bro, why did all of you shit yourselves? Do y’all not have control of your bowels?” I laughed, taking a casual drink. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Droid, Grizzy, and Pezzy shouted into their microphones.

~ “How much do you make annually?” “Less than these bitches! The wage gap definitely exists!” I shouted.

“You won’t actually say it,” Puffer challenged.

“For 100 gifted, I will! I expect a good payout if I out myself like that,” I laughed.

~ “Who would you trade lives with?”

“Puffer?” Droid and Grizzy eyed him.

“Nah, I’m good. My answer is I’m good,” Puffer said fast. 

“I am at a crossroads here,” I laughed. “On one hand, I get paid more. However, I have a dick. I think that’s a deal breaker.”

“I wouldn’t mind being a girl,” Pezzy said, nonchalantly. 

“Have fun on your period, Pezzy. You’re a bitch when it comes to pain,” I checkled, taking another drink.

“Ah shit, nevermind,” He cringed.

~~

A few cards in, and a lot of drinks and shots later, the chat could tell we were feeling it. All of us were kind of letting all of the juicy details out.

“Who have you fantasized about in your life that you shouldn’t have? No celebrities allowed,” Pezzy read. 

“My sophomore year math teacher,” Grizzy said off the bat. “I forgot that motherfucker’s name, but I remember that ass like it was yesterday.”

“If I said someone in this room, I am not clarifying,” I laughed, downing my fourth Mike’s.

“WHAT?! We need details,” All of the guys shouted over each other.

“Maybe at a future card, but I am not drunk enough yet. Does that mean I should take a shot?” I asked, already pouring a shot without waiting for an answer and throwing it back. “Okay, what’s the next question?”

“What is your biggest online screwup,” Grizzy read off.

“This,” I laughed as I got up to make a new drink as I ran out of Mike's. As soon as I stood up, the room started spinning, so I immediately sat back down. “Holy shit, I am fucked. Can someone make me a Jack and Coke? This was the last Mike’s.” 

“I’ve got you,” Pezzy said as he was already getting up to get a new drink.

“Cool, I’m gonna pick a card while you do that,” I shouted to him, reaching over Droid’s legs to grab the deck.

“Woah, we got a magician over here,” Droid muttered after I flattened out the cards to pick one. I looked up at him, confused, before he said, “Take me to dinner first.”

“I have,” I pointed out, “multiple times. You’re just not giving.”

“Hey woah, no need to call me out like that!” He objected.

“She’s wined and dined you so many times. When are you going to fuck her?” Puffer joked.

“Exactly my point,” I muttered before grabbing everyone’s attention, “But, this is getting out of hand, moving on! Who is your hottest friend?”

“Y/N,” Grizzy and Droid said without hesitation. Everyone’s attention snapped to them as we all started talking over each other. 

“I think Droid,” I whispered into my microphone as I winked at the camera. 

“Who is the friskiest?” 

“I don’t know if I can or want to answer this,” Grizzy said as he took a shot.

“What was your most recent porn search?” Droid asked. Everyone started complaining, saying they were going to take a shot, but I pulled out my phone to check chat before pulling my microphone super close to my face.

“I walked in on Pezzy doing some shit,” I admitted. “That shit scared me for life.”

“When did you walk in on me, and when was I going to learn about that?” Pezzy shouted.

“Like a week ago, you asked for Whataburger, and I was bringing it to your room like a GOOD ROOMMATE!” I shouted toward him as I checked the chat. It was going too fast for me to actually read it while the guys kept pestering me to tell them what he was watching.

“Wait I got a question,” Droid brings the arguing to a stop, “Do any of you dabble in the hentai?”

Immediately, the boys responded with “Yes.”

My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as I cringed at all of them. “Y’all are fucking gross. Do y’all feel disgusting afterward because damn thats actually nasty.”

“I have gone so far down that rabbit hole, it is not even funny,” Pezzy admitted. 

“You are really feeling those drinks, huh” Grizzy laughed. 

“Yes, I am,” Pezzy responded definitively.

“We did not need to know you that personally, Pezzy,” I laughed, taking a shot.

“No wait, we’re not just gonna glaze over the fact that you didn’t answer,” Droid pointed out.

“What do you want me to say? I don’t watch porn,” I laughed defensively.

“Who doesn’t watch porn?” Puffer asked rhetorically.

“Me, duh,” I deadpanned as the boys kept arguing. I looked down at the chat and chat was loving the interactions. That is until the part where I said I admitted that I do not watch porn came on. Everyone transformed into calling me a ‘pick me,’ saying I was lying, or making sexual jokes about me being innocent in chat. Mods were not able to keep up as some were still coming through. I did not even notice that the guys had moved on to another question as I got up, swaying slightly, to leave the video. “Hey, I’m gonna head out. I’m hella drunk.”

“No, this is when it’ll get good,” Droid tried to persuade, but the last thing I wanted to do was sit here on stream. “Nah, I’m good. I’ve already ruined my reputation enough for the night,” I forced a laugh, moving toward the kitchen off camera. I put my glass in the sink and grabbed a water bottle before just sitting on the floor in the kitchen. I heard the guys talking quietly for a second before footsteps started approaching the kitchen. I looked up to see Droid standing over me before he took a seat next to me.

“What happened? Too much?” He asked.

“No, I can handle my alcohol,” I laughed. “Chat was saying shit, and I didn’t want to give them more ammo.”

“What were they saying?”

“Shit about how I’m a pick me for not watching porn or how I’m innocent or how I’m lying for attention. Nothing I haven’t seen or heard before, but I didn’t want to deal with it.”

“And you shouldn’t have to,” he said as he moved to put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “I’m sorry chat’s bullying you.”

“Again, not like it isn’t something I see everyday,” I sighed, leaning into his shoulder. He turned his head to kiss the crown of my head. “And again, you shouldn’t have to. You were literally telling the truth,” He responded. After a moment of silence between us, minus the murmurs of the guys in the living room, Droid pulled away slightly, still keeping me in his arms. “Plus, why would you need porn? You have me.”

“And why do you need amateur porn?” I retorted, “You have me.”

“wHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Oh, Puffer didn’t know. Oops.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[thestalwartheart]

if you're still taking prompts from the list:

💙 drunken kiss / tipsy

Hey @dude-watchin-with-the-brontes! Thank you so much for this prompt, and apologies for taking so long to get something written! Here's a short little prompt fill for you. Enjoy 💙 Read it below or on AO3.

drunk.

When they emerge from the pub, it’s still light out, which seems like madness until Q remembers the recent turn of the clock. Daylight savings. The most wonderful time of the year. The night sky is a haze of pink and orange, and if he were a different man, Q would call it romantic.

“It is.”

“Hm?” Q turns to the man beside him. Bond. The last man standing, as ever. He looks remarkably sober for having polished off an incalculable amount of hard alcohol.

“Romantic,” Bond says. “The sky. I was agreeing with you.”

“Right. Yes. I definitely—” Q swallows a small burp. “I definitely meant to say that aloud. Christ. I’m ratarsed.”

Bond laughs. Laughs. It’s such a rarity that Q closes his eyes for a moment. Tries to seal it into his memory and lock it away with everything else that should only be declassified in seventy-five years.

When he opens his eyes, the sky is even pinker, and Bond is standing in front of him. His eyes are lovely, but lovelier are the laugh lines around them.

Deep, they are. Well-worn.

Q knows it’s just genetics. DNA-sequencing. A pinch of his mother, more of his father. The creases of his face don’t mean Bond’s laughed so much in life, really, and yet he smiles easily when they’re like this: drunk under London’s sky, meandering through the city, usually while it’s raining. Thank goodness it isn’t tonight. Q hasn’t an umbrella on him, not even a dangerously experimental one.

“All right, Q?”

“Fine. Yes. Lovely.”

“And ratarsed.”

Q wobbles on a loose paving stone. Bond’s hand steadies him.

“Mm. But a merry sort of ratarsed. I think the fresh air’s helped.”

A laughing couple walk past. They’re handsy, all over each other, and their loud public affection might normally prove annoying, but it isn’t tonight. The sky is lovely, and the company is even lovelier, so why shouldn’t everyone kiss where they like?

Why shouldn’t Q?

He leans in.

But Bond’s hand moves from his arm to his chest, and Q is kept at bay.

“Q.”

“What? But we—” Q breaks off, frowning.

They’ve done this before. They’ve done this in Q’s office, and they’ve done it in Bond’s. They’ve done it in a hospital, and they’ve done it once in Cyprus amongst the olive trees. Infrequent as it is, Q’s habitual drunken snog with Bond is one of the two constants in his life. The other constant is the cats, and he can’t very well snog them.

“I know.”

“Is there someone else?”

He cringes as soon as he says it averting his eyes. He sounds like a desperate wife concerned about Bond’s mistresses—all those overseas trips, the late nights at the office. It’s nine o’clock. Where’ve you been? Absurd, if only because Q’s the one who’s always staying late.

So. They’ve snogged a few times. So what? Q shagged a man named Iain a few weeks ago. Bond’s fucked three women with three different names since. Q forgets them. He’s sure Bond hasn’t.

There’s a messy, drunken taxi line forming outside the pub. People waiting for their Ubers, give their friends one last hug, then two, then three. A weight sinks in Q’s stomach and sloshes about amongst seven pints.

“Too many people, then?” he ventures.

“Q, look at me.”

He does.

“I’d have you in front of a football stadium if that’s what you wanted.”

Q’s breath feels punched out of him.

Bond steps closer, slides his hand up Q’s jaw. Their foreheads touch; Q’s messy curls, greasy from the day, pick up the clammy sweat on Bond’s forehead. Bond’s lips are so close. They look cold. Q wants to warm them.

“I’d just prefer to have you sober,” says Bond.

“Oh. Yes.” Q digs his hand under Bond’s jacket and urges him closer. Behind them, someone lets loose a catcall. “Yes.” He bites his bottom lip. “Perhaps one for the road, though? While I sober up?”

Bond smiles. He turns his head until his lips meet Q’s cheek—or rather his jaw—and there is nothing chaste about the kiss he places there. It’s louche and incendiary in the way of all Bond’s actions. Q’s body does not know the meaning of whisky dick.

When he surfaces from the haze of the last few minutes, an MI6 driver is waiting to take him home. He climbs into the car with Bond, knowing that when he gets out, he’ll be getting out alone. The thought doesn’t smart like it might have on some other night. He creates a reminder in his phone for the following morning — CALL BOND - DATE?? — and leans back against the headrest.

Bond’s hand is waiting for him; it tangles in Q’s hair. Outside, the day disappears into a navy blue sky.