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#I literally think about this fic at least a couple times a week and I read it 4 months ago
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i rewatched OMWF today and forgot that the last thing that Spike says to Buffy before she goes to confront Sweet is that he hopes she burns and dies, and now I can’t stop thinking about Spike from Tales From A New Body by @thisisoffyourbird being haunted by those words for the next 20 years and I am distraught 😫😫
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non-un-topo · 9 months
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At the crossroads between wondering if it's worth it to basically completely rewrite all my WIPs or just take a break from writing for the rest of the summer
#i noticed every summer i get progressively worse lol#like not in terms of writing but in terms of everything else goin on in my head#i mean if anyone is craving some dark and depressing shit i've got bits and pieces here#it's like i'm writing for an audience even in my own mind. can't finish anything because it's __ __ __ etc and my niche is too niche.#did my last fic really burn me out that much?? i mean it was basically 30 thousand words and there was a LOT packed into it#maybe i should finally respond to comments and i'll feel better.#something's been going on with me for the past couple months (maybe longer) and i'm just annoyed ALL the time#feel like i want to give up everything and stop talking to everyone. ((it could be my out of whack hormones mind))#so if i haven't been as active and haven't drawn or written much that's why. i'm pulling away and curling in like an atrophied limb.#my brain is just permanently in school mode. i can feel it gearing up for the oncoming year that's going to be super intense.#like would it even matter if i post any more work before september? idk why i can never seem to chill or take a break for even a minute.#i still have drawing projects i want to finish at least! taking me literally all summer because of surprise health problems.#partner was consoling me about how i feel for writing '''weird''' stuff with almost no focus on romance#saying that SOMEbody has to write what i write so that should keep me going. i just tell myself that it could be worse -#- i could be primarily a femslash writer. they are the real heroes and they get no respect.#idk why i'm getting so angsty#i think i might be romance/sex repulsed atm. not in real life at all but in fandom. i'm bored of it. and i'm bored of conversations about i#i'm sure i'll change my mind in what two weeks or so.#maybe i'll try to write something original#i have things in my ask box i should respond to. like asks about my writing. i just haven't been feeling well#so i haven't had the right brain to respond :( but i see the asks and i'm grateful <3#anyway peace and love
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niennanir · 10 months
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Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
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Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
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No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
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use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
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Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
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You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
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Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
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Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
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I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
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suga-kookiemonster · 29 days
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ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)
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summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral
a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜
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When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.
Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.
You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.
“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”
Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).
“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”
“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”
Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?
An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”
“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.
“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”
“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”
“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.
The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.
“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.
He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.
The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.
“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”
Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”
“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”
“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”
“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”
He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 
“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.
“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”
“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.
Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.
Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”
“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”
“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.
“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.
Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”
“Soccer game?” you ask.
“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”
To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.
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angelicsoka · 2 months
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EXPOSED, j. drysdale
word count | 608 words
pairings | jamie drysdale x fem!hughes!reader, platonic!trevor zegras x reader, platonic!hughes brothers x sister!reader
summary | in which the hughes brothers walk into their younger sister's apartment to discover something shocking.
warnings | not proofread. one use of “y/n”. mostly dialogue. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.
a/n | i’ve had no motivation to write as of late but i had written this a while back so i figured i’d post it! the quinn fic should be up in the next few weeks (hopefully). 
light flooded the bedroom, slowly waking the couple that lay in the bed. the woman groaned, attempting to break from her lover’s arms which only seemed to tighten around her. “j, hon, you gotta let go.” she rasped out, gently tracing her boyfriend’s face. he pretended to not hear her, playing it off as if he were asleep. “j, i know you aren’t asleep.”
“you don’t need to get up. just stay here with me.” the raspiness of his voice gave her butterflies. his eyes fluttered open, a soft smile on his face. “you’re so beautiful, you know that?”
“thank you, my love, but flattery will not win me over this time. my brothers are coming to town today and trevor is supposed to be picking them up around noon.” she laughed slightly as he groaned.
“tell trev to take them out or something.” he suggested, chuckling when she rolled her eyes.
“yeah, cause that isn’t suspicious at all.” sarcasm laced her voice, running her fingers through his hair.
“this isn't helping, y’know.” jamie pulled her close, kissing her forehead. “okay, fine. we can get up. just know i’m not happy about it.”
“that's okay, i can live with that.” she winked, rolling out of his arms. jamie caught her arm, pulling her back in for a kiss. the kiss became more heated, jamie’s hands on her cheek and hip, as she pulled at his hair. they were in their own little world, unaware of the front door opening. unaware of the footsteps approaching her bedroom door. the door swung open, the couple breaking apart at the noise. in the doorway was her brothers and trevor, shocked looks on their faces.
“what. the. fuck.” jack stated dramatically. in a rush to get off of their sister, jamie fell off the bed, getting a laugh from trevor. 
“the fuck you doing here? did you let them in?” her voice was raised, her cheeks heated as she yelled at trevor. “why didn't you stop them?” quinn and luke turned to look at trevor who held a sheepish look on his face.
“you fucking knew?” jack turned to his best friend as jamie looked to his girlfriend who looked frazzled. “you knew and you didn’t tell me?”
“she swore me to secrecy and honestly, she scares me more than you.” trevor admitted, “i wanted to, i was literally about to explode on my way here.”
“all of you go wait in the fucking living room!” she shouted, breaking them from the argument that was bound to happen. “go!” the brothers hesitated for a moment, but trevor was already down the hallway. the brothers left, luke pulling the door shut. the poor kid looked like he had just seen a ghost. “j, are you alright?” she finally turned to her boyfriend who had still not moved from the floor. 
“yeah.” it was silent for a moment before the couple broke out into laughter. “well, i guess the secret’s out.”
“honestly, they reacted better than i thought they would. fuckin’ trevor though. i'm gonna beat his ass when i get the chance.” jamie laughed at the exasperated look on her face.
“i’ll help.” he smiled, standing up and joining her on the bed. “at least we don’t have to hide anymore. now, i can show off my beautiful girl.”
“and i get show off my handsome boyfriend.” jamie kissed her once more, a smile gracing her lips.
“hey! you guys better not be doing what i think you're doing!”
“fuck off, jack!” she shouted to her brother, giggling as he stomped away. “i love you, jamie drysdale.”
“i love you, y/n hughes.”
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ahsxual · 4 months
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Dark Sins
Pairing: William Afton x Fem!Reader (and a little of Stu Macher x Fem!Reader)
Summary: You and Stu have been together for a while now. You didn't like his friend Billy, because in your opinion he meant trouble. But Stu didn't care about it. In fact, it only made him want to hide you from Billy. So when the two of you were at Stu's house and Billy showed up, Stu made you hide yourself in the bathroom... little did you both know that his dad was taking a shower.
Genre: Smut
Warnings: minors don't interact +18, cheating (I don't support this, only wrote it for the fic!!), Stu not being the best boyfriend, implied age gap (reader is on her 20s, William is 50), fingering, oral sex (f&m receiving), squirting, dirty talk, mentions of daddy, chocking, cursing, degrading and humiliation kink, cnc, almost getting caught, perv!William, Dom!William x Sub!Reader
Word Count: 2,8k
Part II & Part III
A/N: In this fic, William is Stu Macher's father. I just love this idea, so I decided to write this crossover. I haven't written for so long, so I'm sorry for any mistakes or the low quality fic. I missed writing for you guys, so here I am! I'm trying my best <33
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You and Stu Macher had been together for a few weeks now. He was your crush since you met him last year, and things developed over time, specially after one of his parties. You guys had sex in his bedroom at one of his parties, and let's just say it was the best fuck you guys ever had. The adrenaline running through your veins from the alcohol, the passion between you two and the risk of getting caught by one of your friends was too much. You were extremely happy when, after a couple of months, he wanted to make it official. It was like a dream coming true... I mean, who wouldn't want to be Stu Macher's girlfriend? But like in all relationships, nothing is completely perfect... and when you met his best friend Billy, you couldn't help but hate the guy. He had this creepy look whenever he looked at you both and you talked about it with Stu. Apparently the guy hated you too, so Stu decided to hide you from him. Like, literally.
It pissed you off even more. How can your boyfriend prefer his best friend over you?? The PDA between the two of you didn't exist anymore whenever Billy was around, and that hurted you. So today, you decided to go talk about this with Stu.
"Hey... can we talk?" you asked Stu when he opened his house's door for you. He already knew what you wanted to talk about, so he rolled his eyes and let you enter his house.
"Sure babe, come in." he said in fake excitement, which annoyed you to no end. How can he still think it's your fault and there's nothing wrong with what he's doing... or better, allowing others to do. It's like he cares way too much about what Billy thinks or not. What a weird relationship they have...
You both went to his room for some privacy, since his dad was at home. Talking about the man, there was something strange, maybe even creepy about him too. He barely talks to you or says anything at all, always busy with work on the few times he's at home. However, his intense eyes always seemed to analyze your body like a predator analyzes its prey. At least, that's how you felt. And it sent shivers down your spine every single time, for whatever reason unknown to you.
"So... I assume you already know what I want to talk about with you..." you were the first one to break the ice, since you and Stu have had been silent for a few minutes now. You shouldn't be feeling so nervous and you didn't want to bother Stu, but things had to be talked about when something bothers you. Communication is the key for a good relationship and that's what you decided to do.
"Yeah, I think I do." Stu seemed way too relaxed for your liking, his arms supporting his body onto his bed like he didn't care how this conversation would end.
"Can you just pretend that you care about how I'm feeling instead of like, running away? Because that's what it looks like you're doing and it annoys me, Stu. Deeply." you shouted at Stu, your patience disappearing by each second. But when he looked at you with those hungry eyes, you immediately knew what he wanted to do. Again. Every single time.
"Come on babe, we can do so many interesting things instead of arguing, don't you think? You look so fucking hot when you're mad at me." a large smirk was planted on his face, before he pushed you down onto his bed, his tall and lean body over yours while he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and pinned them on the bed. He started sucking and kissing your neck, while his free hand grabbed your tits hard, making you moan.
"Stop it Stu, we have to talk about..." you tried to sound serious, but the truth was that you forgot what you wanted to talk about in the first place. You couldn't resist Stu: he had that power over you, and even tho you hated it sometimes, it was simultaneously the thing you loved about him the most. The way he made you weak to your knees by a simple touch. You felt like you were in heaven for a few minutes, before Stu's phone started ringing. You both looked at it annoyed, and when you thought you couldn't be more bothered, you saw Billy's name on it. Stu immediately got up, before sending you an apologetic look.
"Hey man, what's up?" Stu's face went from excitement to fear in a second, and you looked at him asking mentally what happened. "Yeah sure, just give me a sec." and then Stu hung up the call.
"What happened? What did he want?" your tone was a little bit harsh towards Stu, but you couldn't control it. What did Billy possibly want this time??
"I'm sorry baby, but... Billy is actually on my doorstep. He's outside and needs to talk to me... like right now." you could tell your boyfriend was feeling bad for interrupting your intimate moment, but he still didn't say no to Billy.
"You're kidding me, right? Does he know that I'm with you? Can't you tell him that??"
"Come on y/n, just cooperate with me! It will be fast I promise, just..." he paused for a second, before grabbing your arm and taking you to the bathroom. "Just stay here for a minute, okay? Don't come out until I tell you so! Love ya!" he then kissed you and put you inside of his bathroom way too quickly to realized that it might be occupied...
"Wtf!" you shouted quietly, visibly pissed off by the ridiculous situation you were put in. How could Stu do this to me?? Hiding his own girlfriend, because his friend didn't like me? You thought. When you were walking backwards, you didn't even realized that the bathroom was in fact, occupied. By your boyfriend's father.
"Shit!!" you screamed when you collided with a strong, bare and wet chest. When you turned around, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was your boyfriend's father, William Afton, completely naked with just a towel around his hips. You stared a little too long to his tall, nice built body for his age, before you closed your curious eyes. "Omg, I'm so so sorry Mr. Afton, I didn't- this is all that asshole's fault!" you whispered to yourself the last part, referring to Billy. Well, in reality it was Stu's fault, but you didn't want to think about it that way.
"May I know why you haven't left yet? Seems like you're enjoying being here... in my presence." William's tone was serious and his eyes roamed all over your body, since you were wearing a short dress. If you weren't feeling so embarrassed, you could tell that he was in fact teasing you.
"I-I can't Mr. Afton... Stu doesn't want me to get out of here... I don't know what to do... well, on second thought, I should probably go." you never felt so embarrassed in our entire life. You didn't know if you should leave and go against your boyfriend's stupid request, or if you should just stay there being confronted by Mr. Afton lustful eyes and semi-naked body. This was his opportunity, he thought. Just the two of you... alone.
He wanted to show you how much his son didn't deserve you. He wanted to show you who could be a real man to you. Someone who didn't refuse to pleasure you like his son did to you just now, even tho you could be caught. What you didn't know, was how long William have been desiring you. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to be with you and make you forget about his son only with his dick. To prove to you that you didn't know real pleasure until he fucked you until you're begging for his mercy.
"Who said you're getting out of here, huh?" how dumb and innocent you are, he thought. Thinking that now that everything was according to his plan, you could escape him. It made him laugh, actually.
"I-I don't understand, sir..." your back was against the bathroom door, not allowing you to escape his slow approach towards your small body compared to his. The moment you called him sir made his cock harder, and when you noticed it through the thin towel, you gasped loudly not just by the unknown effect you had on him, but at the size of it. It was huge and you could tell that it was thicker than Stu's dick.
He noticed you staring at his cock and smirked at your reaction. He knew deep down you wanted him too. You naughty, dumb slutty girl. He suddenly approached you faster, not even caring about the fact that his towel fell on the ground, leaving him completely naked in front of you and showing you his dick fully erected because of you. Before you tried to say something, he covered your mouth with his big hand.
"Shhh. Don't say a single fucking word, you understand me? You don't want my son to find out that you're about to get fucked by his father, now would you?" his voice was deep and low, and you could hear the lust in it. You felt scared. Terrified actually, for what was about to happen. But then, you felt something that betrayed your mind. Your panties were dripping and your clit was throbbing, wanting desperately to be touched. All of a sudden, you heard the door being locked by William.
"Please Mr. Afton, I-I don't want to cheat on Stu, please..." you were so desperate not to sin, since you're completely against cheating. But it seemed like you had no choice... and the worst of it, was that you couldn't deny how much attracted you felt to the older man. By this point, you didn't know if you were talking to William or to yourself. Suddenly, you felt William's cock against you, hard and desperate for your attention.
"Too late for that, bunny. I'm gonna teach you how a real man can pleasure a sweet thing like you... don't lie to yourself. You want this as much as I do." he suddenly grabbed your hand and put it on his hard cock, pre-cum leaking from the tip. You started to jerk him off, not being able to stop since he was controlling your movements. "That's it, you dirty slut. Now be a good girl and suck daddy's cock." William forcedly grabbed your hair and pushed you to your knees, making you gasp in pain. He then opened your mouth and shoved his dick in, making you gag around him.
You started to suck him off since you had no option but to obey, before he pushed you back by your hair and took your dress and bra off, leaving you only in your panties.
"Don't worry, I'll rip them out soon." the older man promised before he pushed you against his cock again. After a few minutes, he felt himself almost reaching his limit, so he pushed you back once again, this time for good. He then grabbed you and put you onto the long bathroom vanity, before tearing your white panties in one move.
"Mr. Afton! Those were my favorite panties!" you were shocked by his rough action, realizing that when he said something, he would do it. William laughed at your face, realizing that you and Stu apparently never had real fun.
"If you behave and cum for me, maybe I'll give you new ones for Christmas." he promised before circling your extremely sensitive clit. You moaned loudly, so he quickly covered your mouth once again. "What a dirty fucking whore you are. Can't keep your mouth shut while being fingered by a man old enough to be your father... leaving aside the fact that it's actually your boyfriend's father too." he degraded you, before shoving 2 long and thick fingers inside you, not giving you any time to adjust to him. His movements were cruel and faster than any man you had ever been with before, making you cum in a few minutes.
"Fuck Mr. Afton, I'm gonna cum!! Please s-stop!" you didn't know why you were pleading him to stop if you didn't want to. Maybe you thought that if you didn't cum, maybe it wasn't real cheating... How stupid you were to think that. Obviously there was no going back now.
"You're fucking dripping, bunny. Look at my fingers, fucking you so easily and being all drenched in your cum. You should be ashamed of yourself, you fucking slut. I bet my son never made you cum so fast and hard." and those degrading words, which were the truth even tho you didn't want to admit it, were enough to make you orgasm. Hard. The way Mr. Afton humiliated and deprived you to breath properly with his hand covering your mouth and nose, was all you needed to squirt onto his big hand. Your moan was muffled by William's hand, otherwised Stu and Billy would hear you without any doubt.
"Oh fuck..." you said once you looked at the mess you made. William's fingers and cock were drenched in your cum, and he hadn't even fucked you with his cock yet. "I'm so sorry Mr. Afton-" your apology was completely ignored and immediately replaced by a loud gasp from you when William opened your legs and licked your cunt like he was a starved man. His tongue expertly sucked your wet clit before he fucked your hole with his long tongue. He continued to suck on your clit and fuck your hole just the way you loved, when suddenly you heard Stu's voice. You wanted to scream from fear of being caught in such a vulnerable, embarassing position and act, but William knew you too well already, so he put his hand over your mouth before you could make any sound and continued his attack on your dripping pussy.
"Wait man!" you heard Stu saying to Billy. Apparently, Billy wanted to go to the bathroom, but Stu stopped him just in time. "You should go to the bathroom downstairs. I took a shit on that one before you arrived." if you weren't in this situation, where your boyfriend's dad was eating you out like a madman, you would have laughed at the poor excuse that your boyfriend came up with. However, you were too focused on cumming again, this time on William's mouth since he didn't stop fucking your cunt with his tongue the whole time. Oh, that mouth... you definitely wouldn't forget it. It even looked like somehow, William did want to get caught to prove his son that he could make you cum harder and faster. That even if he was older, he was better nonetheless.
You started to feel your second orgasm approaching. "Fuck Mr. Afton, I'm gonna fucking cum again." you didn't know why would you tell him that or why you were saying it out loud, if you felt ashamed about all of this.
"Come on, babygirl. Cum for daddy one more time, squirt all over my face." and that was it. Somehow you managed to squirt once again, this time on William's face. Even tho it wasn't as much as before, you still covered his face and mouth with your cum. "Good girl. I know you could do it. You're being so nice for me, just one more time." when he said that last part, you looked at him with wide eyes.
"I-I can't anymore sir, please..." you were breathless and covered in sweat from his actions. He suddenly grabbed your neck and chocked you enough to make it difficult to breath.
"Yes you can, and you'll do it for me." for the first time, you were scared of him. Scared about what he could possibly do to you and the fact that you could be caught anytime now. He lined his big cock against your overstimulated pussy, ready to fuck and destroy you, before you both heard Stu's voice again.
"Alright man, see ya later! Don't forget to bring my things tomorrow!" Stu said before closing the front door downstairs, saying goodbye to Billy. You looked desperately at William, and even if he wanted to destroy you right there and then and couldn't care less if Stu caught you both fucking, he didn't want you to be in big trouble. You and William started to hear Stu's footsteps, so William took your damaged panties with him, grabbed his towel from the ground to cover himself up and got ready to go to his bedroom before Stu came in and saw you two together.
"Get yourself presentable. You don't wanna look like you just had been fucked, right? Next time bunny, I'll make sure there's no one to interrupt us. Prepare that tight and sweet pussy of yours." he said in a serious and cold tone, like he didn't just say the most sinful thing to you. Before he left, he smelled deeply your ripped and drenched panties and stuffed them inside his mouth.
And there you were. Left alone naked, covered in sweat and cum and thinking about how William's cock would feel deep inside of you, ripping you apart.
And that's when reality hit you and slapped you hard in the face. You just cheated on your boyfriend with his own fucking father.
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ginevrapng · 6 months
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I LOVE LOVE LOVE your chubby reader fics. I was thinking maybe marauders era Remus lupin, maybe he has a crush on chubby reader but she’s oblivious bc she thinks he could never like her? Keeps giving her little gifts almost trying to court her
it's charms and remus lupin is staring longingly at you, all in vain of course, at least that's what he's come to believe. he's fancied you for months and he's tried everything over the past few months to get you to notice but you never have, so all he can do is take these small moments to admire you afar and in peace.
in the recent months you noticed a change with him, you'd say you're not really friends and consider yourself more acquaintances, but he's been making more of an effort to talk to you. you figure he's heard about what happened with that ravenclaw who insulted you in front of your whole house and took some pity on you. remus had no knowledge of this event and if he had the marauders would have made him their number one target.
remus is starting to feel at his wits end, he's asked to study with you which now happens every week, he smiles at you in the hallways and talks to you in between classes, he even gave you a book he thought you'd like and buys you sweets from honeydukes. he feels like he's running out of options. a couple weeks ago he asked you to go to hogsmeade together and you turned him down saying that he should go with his friends and not be stuck with you, "i'm not going to be stuck with you, i want to go with you that's why i asked." remus' eyebrows furrow slightly, trying to get you to understand that he wants you to come.
"thank you remus, you're so kind but don't worry about me, you should be with your friends." you tell him and he feels like shouting at you and telling you off sometimes because how can you be so clueless to his feelings but to you you've never even considered the possibility that remus might have feelings for you. in your eyes how could he, you're just some chubby girl and remus is extremely out of your league so why would he ever be interested in you? he's smart and kind and friendly and attractive, he's really endearing. you like knowing that remus doesn't like talking to a lot of people and that he can become awkward, you like it because he chooses to speak to you and that always makes you feel warm inside, he truly is amazing, and truly out of your league. little did you know that remus thinks the same of you, you're sweet and pretty and cute and you look so soft. he dreams about holding your plush body in his arms while you talk together for hours and sneaking you into his dorm.
remus is studying, this time without you and he's lost track of time, he's looking at the words but not taking anything in, instead just thinking about you. his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of james pulling out a chair and sitting next to him. "where's your girlfriend moony?" james grins at him.
"she's not my girlfriend," remus sighs and rubs his forehead with his hand smoothing out the crinkles.
james' grin falters understanding that pain, he had the same pain with lily before they became a couple. "do you wanna talk about it mate?"
remus pulls his head back and looks up to the ceiling, "no, but i- it's j-just, she never believes me and takes me seriously. she constantly thinks i'm being her friend no matter what i say," remus says sounding slightly frustrated.
"i'm sure that's not true, maybe you're not making it obvious enough. it's clear that she likes you back, she always smiles when you answer questions in class and looks at you when you're not looking."
"prongs that isn't helping one bit, if she likes me back why won't she get that i like her too. i've made it plenty obvious, last week everyone was talking about that celestial ball that happens every few years and i said that i would want to go with her, i literally told her i'd want to go with the prettiest girl in school, you."
james starts laughing, "i thought she was meant to be clever moony."
"don't say that, she is, cleverer than you. she's just... oblivious."
"who's oblivious?" remus turns his head to see you standing there with the textbook that you've borrowed of him under your arm.
"you," james replies automatically grinning, remus glares at him, i'm going to kill him later. james slaps his hands on his knees and gets up, "i'll be off, catch you lovebirds later," he grins and walks off.
"piss off," remus says considering throwing something at him as he walks away.
you sit down where james was sitting but move your chair closer towards remus. "james really is ridiculous, you deserve much better than me," you say casually with a smile and go to open your book to the correct page.
remus frowns as he hears the self-depreciation in your tone, because what do you mean, if anything it's the other way. you look up at him when he doesn't reply and you see the frown on his face. "remus are you okay?" you ask concerned, hopefully james didn't make him feel uncomfortable by calling you both lovebirds.
"you really are oblivious," he mutters.
"huh?"
he shakes his head and places his hand over yours on the table, stroking your hand with his thumb, you look shocked at the action but remus just turns back to his book knowing that he'll be able to concentrate now with you next to him.
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i'm so glad you like my chubby reader fics!!! i had so much fun with this!!
reader who doesn't think people will like them because they have low self esteem and doesn't think highly of their body + remus who loves them and their body like it's second nature, like it's the same as breathing ahhhh, it's sooo good
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unalivejournal · 5 months
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imagine a tumblr simulator set in the velvet goldmine universe lmfao
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🎹 wilderatz Follow
DNI if you still support br*an sl*de after the shooting hoax. what he did was fucking unacceptable and pathetic. the panic and heartbreak on the dashboard that day was absolutely traumatizing. and the fact that it was all for cheap publicity makes it even more despicable. if you HAVE to listen to his records the least you could do is buy them secondhand
#so glad curt never cut that record with him
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⭐️ glittersisgay
i got new boots! seeing the flaming creatures tonight :-) life is good
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow
sorry but the sladewild narrative is CRAAAAZY. like imagine you start off as a nobody performer and becoming enthralled by this rockstar after he shows up your act and you end up becoming famous by being inspired by his stage presence AND YOU BECOME FAMOUS ENOIGH TO GO TO AMERICA AND MEET THIS GUY AND YOUR LABELS START FABRICATING A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN U TWO TO GENERATE PUBLICITY FOR YOUR NEW ALBUM BUT THEN YOU ACTUALLY FALL IN LOVE AND HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET BUT THEN THE PAPARAZZI FINDS OUT AND YOU HAVE A HUGE FALLING OUT BUT THEN A FEW WEEKS LATER YOURE SPOTTED IN THE CROWD AT THE DEATH TO GLITTER SHOW
♻️ 🦷 roxytunes Follow
lmfao WHAT are you talking about. swear to god i’m sick of you invasive freaks trying to make things up about real peoples lives. the part about the labels trying to market slade and wild as a couple isn’t even true. yes they were heavily publicized as close friends but they never admitted to being in a relationship. also receipts on brian being at the death to glitter show???? stop spreading false information
♻️ 👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow
anyways watch out for my new sladewild maxwell demon tour era fic that will be published in my next zine 💋
#my mutual was literally next to him in the crowd.
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🪩 girlboydragdemon
at the Sombrero Club with the glamrocktuals YAYYYY
♻️ 🪩 girlboydragdemon
Hangover.
#we may have made. mistakes. #also we think brian slade’s former manager was in the booth behind us
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🌟 venusinpurrs
♻️ 🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow
WHY ARE WE PITTING THREE BAD BITCHES AGAINST EACH OTHER
♻️🌟 venusinpurrs
better question WHY ARE VENUS IN FURS LOSING GUYS CMON ITS OBVIOUSLY THE RATS
♻️🌟 venusinpurrs
do you people hate dykes
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💋 jack-fairy-fan51 Follow
Anyone else feel like this Tommy stone guy showed up out of nowhere?
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❇️ 20th-cxntury-bxy
Well…. it’s been a fun time on the road with Malcolm & co. (@/theflamingcreatures) but in the months following the hoax and the death to glitter tribute I’ve been feeling more and more inclined to move on. idk. i know there’s still an active tumblr community but in the real life scene it feels like everyone’s just…. given up. I’ll be starting a new job soon and won’t have a lot of time to post. Might delete this blog in the near future. remember to support local shows and keep being yourself
#a.journal
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👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove
word on the street is that mandy slade divorced brian???? lmao get his ass
♻️👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove
[#finally i have a chance with her]
you’re funny if you think any of us on this site have an inkling of a chance with her
2,658 notes
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🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow
Just found this on the sidewalk. does anyone know what it is?
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chellestrash · 6 months
Text
Please, Mr. Ghost Face
Frank Castle x F!Reader Halloween Special (18+)
Warnings: explicit language, explicit smut, semi-public, unprotected sex, roughy sex, brat! reader, frank being kinda bitchy, oral (f!receiving) knife play, mention of blood play, teasing.
Summary: look at the title, look at the warnings, you know what it is, enjoy!!
Word count: 7.2k
AN: Oh my god okay, thank you @chelseasdagger and @suitsofwo3 for getting me to actually finish writing this (i literally felt like i was loosing my god damn mind trying to push through). I dont know why it turned out so long I dont normaly write things that are over 3k so this...yeah I really hope at least some of you will enjoy. I love reading your thoughs and feedback on my fic so please, feel free to share them. Reblogs are very appriciated as always :) HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!
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You're not sure how Frank managed to get his entire Halloween costume ready before you finished the few quick fixes to your makeup. Even considering the fact that it took you around an hour to get the whole look together, and he repeatedly told you no matter when he started getting ready, he'd still be finished before you. He was right. Was it annoying? Slightly, yes, but for once, him being right was actually a good thing since you were already late to a house party one of your friends decided to throw at the end of the week once most of you were finally done with work.
You fix up your lipstick and try the fake fangs on one more time before messing with your hair a bit and taking a couple steps back to check the outfit out in the mirror. Nothing too creative, just a simple well-fitted black dress, slightly shorter than what you'd usually wear, a couple of bright red details and some silver jewelry. A last minute vampire, sure, it'll do.
You straighten up the fabric and look up and down at your reflection one more time.
“Right, I think I'm ready!”
You raise your voice, making sure he’d hear you, before grabbing the last few things and turning to the door.
“So, what did you decide to go as?”
You shout again, curious about how much effort he decided to put into the whole thing this year. Halloween wasn't necessarily a holiday Frank enjoyed, but he'd do this and that occasionally just to make you happy.
“Did you figure it out?”
Another question since he didn't answer the previous one. You step out of the room, digging through your small bag in search of your phone before you walk directly into your boyfriend’s chest.
“Shit, sorry.”
You mumble and Frank grabs your arm, helping you regain the balance before you end up with your ass on the wooden floor.
“Christ, easy, 'you okay?”
Frank’s deep, groggy voice rumbles through your body, and you take a moment to fix up the dress before finally tracing your eyes up his body. You bite the inside of your cheek and it feels like the words get stuck in your throat before you can answer him.
Frank stands in front of you with his usual outfit on. Combat boots, the ones you rarely see him out of, one of the dark gray, now slightly worn off jeans, and a black tank top, his heavy, deep navy blue jacket already in his hand. The reason for your reaction doesn't have anything to do with his exceptionally ordinary choice of clothing, but rather with a thing you're not used to seeing on him.
The basic Ghost Face mask from Scream covering his face makes it rather difficult to focus on… really anything else. The loose black cloth falls onto his exposed shoulders, covering part of his neck, and you catch yourself staring at him and his body for probably slightly longer than necessary.
“Oh, fuck.”
You finally manage to get out a couple of words, and Frank lets go of your arm.
“Think it'll do?”
You catch his question this time but keep your eyes fixed on the mask as his voice flows from underneath the fabric.
“Shit, yeah, yeah it’ll do alright.”
You lean back on the nearest wall, looking over his figure from head to toe once again.
“Shit, Frank, where did you even find that?”
“Corner shop.”
He shrugs and takes a step in your direction after a moment. You feel your back pushing against the door frame, a familiar warm feeling growing between your legs when his frame grows bigger in your field of view. His shoulders and chest, slightly exposed by the tight tank top, the fabric clearly struggling some right above his sternum. You catch the corner of your lips pulling up in a confident smirk once you finally take in the whole picture.
The dark, empty eyes of the mask pierce through your own for a moment and you cross your legs nonchalantly before Frank finally reaches up to get rid of the cheap Halloween costume.
Quickly grabbing his wrist, you stop him before he’s able to pull the mask off of his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, his sudden confusion expressed by the pose.
“What?”
The question, slightly muffled by the dark fabric, only amplifies the smirk already present on your face. You grin happily at the Ghost Face character right in front of you, somehow feeling like he already knows the answer to his question.
“Don’t fucking tell me you’re into that.”
Shaking his head, he tries again but you interrupt the action one more time.
“Oh boohoo, and what if I was?”
You tease. Your impatient hands linger over his body, fingers rubbing over the fabric of both his shirt and jeans. Hooking your hand over the waistband of the jeans, you pull yourself up, pushing off of the wall and leaning forward towards him, rubbing your leg up his own slowly. The fabric of the dress slides off of you slightly, exposing a decent amount of skin. Guiding Frank's hand to the back of your body, you arch your back slightly, pushing your ass into his palm, humming satisfied once you feel his tight grip through the dress. Frank's chest expands with a loud sigh, the space between your bodies closing almost completely now. He watches you carefully; every move, every tease, every little movement you plan out carefully, seemingly only to get a desired reaction out of him.
“What if I was, Mister Ghost Face?”
Your purr, biting down on your lower lip, your hand now pressed against his chest as you gently drag your nails over the fabric. Frank grunts, the harsher touch clearly getting to him now, and you fight back some smart ass comment your brain so kindly decided to equip you with. Instead, you drop your hand to your thigh under the slit at the side of the skirt. Pulling the fabric back, you let a glimpse of the bright red underwear peek from underneath the costume. Frank finally breaks once you glare up at him suggestively.
“Mmmmm, fuck.”
He groans from behind the mask, gripping your ass firmly before pulling you onto himself, your leg hooked loosely behind his. Slipping his hand under the fabric of the dress, he digs his fingers into your flesh and you part your lips, letting out a satisfied moan in return.
“‘M not fucking you with the mask on, kid.”
Way to kill the mood. You think, but bite your tongue just in time, not willing to give up on the idea just yet. You can't help it. To be completely honest, it feels like his fault. You didn’t make him look this good in the costume, well, part of it, you never anticipated he’d pick out this exact one either. The fact that it was able to get these reactions from you and your body? Yeah, seems like you’re innocent. Gliding your hand between his legs, you drag your nails over the bulge before spreading your fingers apart, cupping the whole of it in your palm.
Frank grunts and the previously present smirk makes its way back onto your face, you don’t even try to act innocent anymore.
Listening to his now heavier breathing, despite his not so thrilled demeanor, his heart picks up the pace slightly, the blood rushing down between his legs.
A faint twitch under the jean fabric corresponding with his fingers digging deeper into your thigh and you know he's focused now. He's listening.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
You push the weight of your body against his groin, and his hand finds its way up to your hair. Fingers tangle into your hair before he tugs on it firmly. Your head tilts up, and the Ghost Face mask finally comes off once you cannot delay the inevitable any longer.
He leans in closer, his warm breath brushes over your lips, and you fight back the cocky smirk, not entirely sure which one of you wanted to feel the other more at this moment.
His stern expression only strengthens once you reach your hand behind him. Your fingers brush over his ass and you watch how his jaw tightens, his eyes closing.
“Oh, there he is.”
You tease, and he almost snaps this time, inhaling deeply through his nose in an attempt to steady his breathing.
“You try that shit one more time-”
He starts. Leaning closer to your ear, his lips brushing over your neck.
“And we're gonna have a big problem, kid.”
“Oh.”
You whisper, grinding into his thigh slowly.
“Oh, are we? We gonna have a problem, Mister Ghost Face?”
Your lips almost brush over his now. Frank opens his mouth to talk back, ready to have you bent over and waiting for him, ready to make both of you feel good or, most importantly, ready to have you apologize for the whole god-damn mask thing.
You breathe out a quiet laugh at the frustrated expression on his face once the sound of your phone successfully distracts you from his attempts to intimidate you.
With his hand still under your dress, the other in your hair, his leg between yours and his body leaning down over you, you answer the phone. Speaking as if it was the most casual situation possible.
“Yeah? Oh, yeah, we're on our way, we'll be there in a bit. Yeah.”
Frank watches, flabbergasted, as you make up a little story about why the two haven't joined the rest yet. You smack his shoulder a couple of times, pushing away from him and taking a few steps into the direction of the front door.
“What?”
You ask once the phone call is over.
“You're the one who said it's not happening.”
***
You arrive at the party a good while after it began. The house feels pretty crowded, the music is way louder than necessary, and you're pretty certain you're able to pick up the smell of both alcohol and cigarettes from the other side of the street. It honestly feels like one of those weekend college parties that used to always leave you with a two day long hangover a couple of years back. You shiver from a gust of the cold night wind and look over at your boyfriend while pulling the jacket close around your body. Frank looks unimpressed with that really significant frown on his face, not looking forward to spending the rest of the night in a small, crowded place with a bunch of people he didn't want to have to deal with.
“Oh, you’ll be fineee.”
Your oh so encouraging words earn you a stern look from him before he shakes his head with a deep sigh.
“Just go.”
You laugh and with his hand resting against your lower back, he pushes you towards the door, slipping on the movie accurate mask with a look of disapproval as you climb up the steps together.
“I’m throwing this thing out tomorrow.”
The muffled sound of his voice humors you, but you bite your tongue.
“Whatever you say, Frankie.”
***
This wasn’t Frank's idea, of course it wasn’t. He agreed to go to the party knowing how much you’d enjoy yourself but that was the only reason. The costumes weren’t even in the picture when you first asked him to join you, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to run around to different stores frantically trying to assemble a Halloween outfit. The mask was the first thing he saw after stepping into that corner store earlier in the day. He didn’t pay it much thought earlier, but now? After you made it blatantly obvious how much you enjoyed the whole thing, well… he struggled to get through one conversation without his thoughts slipping back to what happened before you two left your place.
You weren’t any better. Even when you split to catch up with different groups of friends after you stepped into the house, you found yourself constantly scanning the room in search of either his face, the mask, or his back. Catching his glance from across the room, you smile, raising the bottle of beer in your hand up. He does the same, but the gentle smile on his lips wears off the second you gesture for him to pull the mask back down. Frank rolls his eyes, shaking his head, before continuing his conversation with some guy you managed to interrupt.
You could try to focus on other things, on the drinks, the music, the stories shared between your friends. You could…but you can’t. There’s no use in trying when your eyes keep searching for Frank every other moment and your mind keeps slipping into places you’d rather not discuss in a room full of people.
With that in mind, you make it your mission to tease Frank through the evening and really see how hard you can make this get to him.
It starts slow: some gentle touches as you pass him by here and there, pushing your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as you two try to hold a conversation with another person, sitting in his lap when some of the people move to sit outside, and most importantly encouraging him to keep the mask on. It’s a costume party, after all.
He catches on when you two are in the kitchen and you obnoxiously brush your ass against his cock while squeezing past him to grab another beer from the fridge.
He grunts, his fingers quickly wrapping around your arm, and he glares into your eyes, silently warning you, possibly hoping it would somehow get you to behave. It doesn’t. You shoot him a quick smirk, waving at one of your friends wearing an angel costume when she walks into the kitchen.
“We’re doing a group photo in the living room!”
She announces excitedly, and you grin, immediately matching her energy.
“Are we showing our costumes off?”
Frank's fingers loosen the grip around you, and you step away from him without hesitation, taking your friend's hand while she answers your question.
“Yeah! We're trying to get everyone in!”
“Oh, fun!”
Walking by her side, you step out of the kitchen, turning back for just a moment.
“You heard that, Frankie? Costumes!!”
***
Back in the living room, you all gather together to attempt the impossible task of fitting every single person at the party into one photo together. Frank joins everyone a bit after you, walking in your direction as you all begin to take your somewhat assigned places.
“Hi.”
You start innocently, standing on your toes, to press a quick kiss to the side of his face. Frank nods in response, cautious of your tricks. Standing behind you to make you more visible in the photo, he wraps his arm around your chest, and you quickly grab onto his forearm. Glancing back over your shoulder, you quickly point out the obvious.
“You gotta put the mask on.”
“Mind your business, yeah?”
He murmurs, and you breathe out a quiet laugh, not looking away even for a second while he pulls the dark fabric and white mask over his face. You take a deep breath in, and the corner of your lips pull up in a satisfied smirk.
“Frankie-“
You start, the gentle heat between your legs returning since he put the mask on for the first time, now more prominent as he stares down at you once again.
“Leave it.”
He orders in a harsh whisper and with his hand on the back of your neck, he makes you face the camera. Your body takes over your brain and when everyone poses for the photo and his hand slides to your lower back, you push your ass out and press it against his bulge. His grunt, muffled by the mask and the constant noise of the party, slips from under the mask and his hands find your hips faster than you realize it was happening. His fingers dig into your thighs, so hard you know it'll leave bruises. He holds you still, knowing god-damn well if he lets go you'll repeat exactly what you just did.
There's a flash of the phone, and once the photo is taken he lets go of your body immediately. You make up your mind, deciding to risk it. Pushing past a few groups of people that begin to form around the living room, you excuse yourself, glancing back at Frank to make sure he's watching before you disappear behind the corner. You make your way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't lock it. You know he won't let that whole thing slip. No more than five minutes pass before he decides to join you.
“Took you long enough.”
You point out and push yourself off the edge of the bathtub, standing up before taking a couple steps in his direction. Frank shuts the door closed and turns back to face you.
“Oh, you wanted me to just walk after you, huh? Make it real obvious?”
He takes a step closer to you, his chest almost rubbing against yours when he looks down.
“No one would give a shit, Frank, everyone's drunk. We could fuck with the door wide open and they wouldn't notice.”
“Stop.”
His voice harsh with the warning.
“Why?”
You push without hesitation or any intention of stopping.
“That get you too much, huh? Bet you'd like that, Frankie, hmm?”
Frank's body tenses up at your attempt to tease him. He stands up straighter, taller, and his shoulders stiffen, his chest rising when he breathes heavily under the mask. His hand balls up into a tight fist as he pushes back the frustration, trying not to hand you exactly what you want from him out on a plate.
“You just don't ever shut up, do you?”
You breathe out a quiet laugh, shaking your head slowly before you stand up on your tiptoes. Staying at eye level with the mask now, you squint, trying to see through the sheer fabric in the eyeholes.
“Oh I do. I can shut up but you don't like that, do you?”
You whisper. The muscles in his neck tensing when his jaw tightens and he shakes his head slowly.
“Yeah, okay, how ‘bout you try for once. Might do you some good.”
“Yeah?”
You whisper again, your hand now rubbing over the center of his chest, feeling the heat under his shirt.
“Make me.”
The words slip past the big smirk on your face and you decide now is the time. Sliding your hand down his body, you brush over the bulge in his jeans. Not giving him time to react, you grip his cock tightly through the thick fabric. With that, you watch whatever was left of Frank's composure crumble away.
There's a moment of silence where his fingers wrap around your wrist. His grip is tight and he holds it in place. You glance down, watching his hand for a moment, before squeezing him once again.
“F-”
He grunts, yanking your hand away with so much force you couldn't possibly even try to fight it back.
“That's it.”
Immediately, you feel his body pushing into yours once he shoves you back against the bathroom counter. Your lips part but you keep the moan back, wrapping your arms around his neck and biting into his exposed shoulder once you feel the porcelain digging into your lower body.
Breathing heavier under the plastic mask, he reaches down to the high slit on the side of your dress. His fingers push into your skin and drag up your thigh. Your breath rushes and your chest rises and falls faster now, the only indication, besides the elaborate banter and the teasing, of how much you've been thinking of this since getting to the party.
You hum loudly once his fingers brush over the hem of your underwear. Your hips push forward slightly in need of his touch once he tugs on the fabric to pull it down. You reach towards him, hands working the buckle of his belt open once the lace of your panties brushes down your calf. Frank reaches up, hand gripping the mask to finally pull it off, but you grab his wrist, stooping him once again.
There's a moment of silence when you both wait for the other to talk, the heat of your bodies radiating through the small bathroom. The pure lust for one another allows this to last only a few seconds.
“Keep it on.”
You request, knowing deep down that you can push him enough to actually have him fuck you with it on.
“Jesus fucking-”
Frank scoffs, pulling the mask off and looking away from you. He shakes his head, disapproving of whatever the hell you've been trying to get him involved in since the night started. He turns back to face you, his eyebrows pulled together, face in a frustrated frown.
“Seriously, this shit again?”
You roll your eyes with a frustrated sigh, hand on his chest as you push against his body, creating some distance between both of you.
“Could you just do one fucking thing without bitching about it so much? Like, is that too hard or?”
You push one more time, both the tone of your voice and the choice of words a lot harsher than before. You keep your gaze on his eyes, confidently staring him down after your annoyed statement, not letting go of this whole thing, not now, not with knowing how close you were.
Frank stands tall in front of you, jaw tight, teeth grinding against each other, and his chest pushes out with the breath he's been holding in his lungs. His eye twitches slightly before he looks off to the side. The bridge of his nose scrunches up when he inhales quickly, nodding once he finally turns back to face you again.
“Alright.”
He slowly pulls the mask back on.
“Your fucking call, sweetheart.”
Before there's time to react, he grabs your arm and shoves you against the sink, turning your body around in one swift motion, bending you over the counter and wrapping his fingers around your upper thigh.
“Your fucking call.”
His words travel down your body and between your legs, the excitement of getting what you wanted, followed by the thrill of the entire situation. The warmth between your legs grows once Frank pulls your ass back, kicking your legs open with his foot. You glance up, focusing on his reflection in the mirror in front of you.
The man towers over you, his shoulders broad and heavy, his chest in the dark tank top, his arm flexing when he holds your lower back down against the wood. The mask, fuck, the mask exposing the tense muscles in his neck, the whole sight taking over your senses, your mind and body.
His heavy hand rubs over your back, up and down a couple of times, before he pushes his palm under the fabric of your dress. Bunching it up, he pulls it over your ass and you can't help but push it out some more in search of his touch.
There's a loud scoff, and you see him shaking his head in the mirror.
“You know, you talk a lot of shit for how wet you are right now, sweetheart.”
He mocks you, pulling the black fabric up before pushing his fingers between your legs.
You whine out loud, closing your legs at the sudden touch but pull them apart again almost instantly.
“Yeah, s’ what I thought. You got a big mouth for-”
“Oh, shut up.”
You cut into his words and feel his fingers on the back of your neck. The grip tightens and he pulls you up, back into an upright position, your body now pressed against his chest. The reflection in the mirror makes your mouth part, but you bite into your lower lip, fighting back another moan. His figure looms over you, the mask ways up above your shoulder, his hand moving to the front of your neck. You feel yourself react to the sight in front of you, to the feeling of his fingers wrapping tighter around your neck, the warmth of his body so close behind you.
“What, you think I'm gonna say make me? Hmm?"
Pushing you back down on the counter, Frank steps closer to your body, his clearly hard cock pressing against your ass.
“Nah, that's your part. I don't do that shit.”
Taking your chance, you perk your ass up some, brushing over the warm spot between his legs. Frank grunts, closing his eyes for a moment before reaching down, pushing his pants open and then down slightly, pulling himself out of the black boxers.
Unable to win with your body this time, you slip up, letting out a moan once his cock springs out from under the dark fabric, stretched out over the large bulge up until this point.
There's a low chuckle from under the Ghost Face mask.
“That shit really gets you that bad?”
One of Frank's hands digs into your thigh, holding you close, the other wrapped tightly around his length.
You nod, making sure he catches the still confident expression on your face in the bathroom mirror.
“Oh, you've got no idea.”
You tease again and Frank moves his hand up to your shoulder blades. Pushing your body down against the counter, he clears his throat.
“Think I got some.”
He lines himself up, getting a few pumps in over his length before spreading you open with his free hand. He pushes inside slower than you'd have liked, pausing after the tip the second he feels how truly ready you are.
“You get off on these things, huh?”
He continues the questing, beginning to thrust into you, and you feel your body stretching to fit him in with every push. Your lips part as your mouth falls open before you bite into your lip, trying to muffle the sounds you're sure would otherwise fill the space of the small bathroom. You try to keep your head up, focusing on Frank's reflection. His body takes up most of your view. You focus on the mask, the low grunts coming from behind it, the feeling of his cock dragging inside of you, out of you and then pushing right back inside, and the feeling of him stretching you out that never goes away entirely.
“You want it fucking scary? Hmm? That'll do it for you?”
He keeps up the teasing, quick to point out every single reaction your body presents him with, and you finally decide to bite back.
You reach behind your back, hand on the front of his hip, tapping your palm against his body to get his attention. Pausing his movements for a moment, Frank watches your face in the mirror, giving you space to talk.
“Yeah, you got me.”
You grunt, cursing under your breath, once he decides to move his palm between your legs.
“You got me but-”
“Gotta speak up, sweetheart.”
He thinks he has you now.
“The mask isn't scary, It's just hot. You should try harder to reeeally get me."
The feeling of his fingers rubbing over your clit disappears immediately after you finish the sentence. He starts up again from behind, and you feel yourself clench around his cock once he moves inside you. You hum loudly, and Frank wraps his big hands around the sides of your body. Panting loudly with his cock still inside you, he tries to focus on your words, knowing, and being almost completely sure, of what you were asking for.
“You know what would help?”
You purr quietly, watching him in the mirror. Your confidence flows back to you once you notice him slightly stunted. The mask moves in the reflection, his eyes focus on your face from underneath the fabric, and you know he's now thinking about it too.
“Yeeeaah, I know you have it, Frankie.”
His grip on you tightens with your words.
“You don't leave the house without it. ‘Just in case’? Your words.”
It takes a moment, but after that moment he reaches behind his body without a word. There's hesitation and he pauses. The bathroom falls quiet and the only sound between your panting is the muffled noise of the party outside the bathroom door.
Slowly, Frank pulls out his black, military grade knife you've seen on him so many times before. The one he always insists on carrying with him, the one you knew he didn't leave at the house tonight.
“Ohhh that's it, Frankie, look at that.”
You whisper in a condescending tone, bumping your odds of actually getting hurt up just a bit higher. He doesn't say a word, but the knuckles of his hand turning white with the strength of the grip speak volumes.
“This what you fucking want?”
He asks, pushing his hand into your hair before tugging to pull your head up. He pushes the blade harder against your skin. The sting of the sharp edge gliding over the inside of your thigh makes you push your hips back again. Once you make sure his eyes focus on your reflection, you smirk, bigger than before, and bite into your lower lip with a quiet whine. With a grunt, Frank holds you down in place, not allowing you to move further back on him,
“You're fucking sick, you know that?”
He points out, and you feel the win in your bones. Making yourself clench around him, you murmur quietly in the most innocent voice.
“Oh yeah, but you like it, Frankie.”
He breaks. His cock twitches inside you and he shoves your chest into the bathroom counter. Thrusting inside you, he follows his every move with a grunt. You grip onto the edge of the sink, now letting the sweet sounds of pleasure slip past your lips with no restrictions. Your breath hitches, the pounding in your head rushes once Frank leans over your body. With his chest pressed against your back, he presses the knife back into the inside of your thigh. You instinctively spread your legs open a bit more as he mumbles something about the knife again. The edge of the blade nicks your skin with the next thrust and you groan at the feeling. Rolling your eyes back, you let your head fall forward, fully aware of the fact Frank just felt how good that felt for you.
“God d-“
He starts in his raspy voice. His big hand holds your lower back in place once he pulls back, the drag of his cock slipping out of your body makes you curl your toes.
Lifting your head back up, you watch him in the mirror, seeing him kneel behind you quickly. You glance back at him confused, not sure of what to expect next.
You gasp, louder than you’ve liked it, but you can’t help it, it’s not your fault. You’d be lying if you said you were expecting him to do his. Kneeling on one knee, Frank pulls you closer by your thighs before pulling the mask up and he presses his tongue flat against the cut. It stings and you jump forward but he pulls you back to him before dropping his right hand to his cock, the knife still in his other hand while he strokes over his length a couple of times.
“So your cock’s fucking throbbing and I’m the sick one?”
You throw the question into the air and it’s like a slap across his face. He pauses, immediately standing up to shove you back down against the wood.
“You gonna act like you don’t like it?”
He spits out, not even expecting an answer, as he lines himself up with your entrance again. Adjusting his grip for a moment, he pulls you back on him instead of thrusting forward, and you struggle to regain balance for a moment as he pushes deeper and deeper inside you.
Out of your control at this point, your thighs press against each other, squeezing him tighter than before. He bends in half, grunting what seems like louder than the actual music playing outside the bathroom. You part your lips ready to deliver another smart ass comment but the force of his hips pushing against your ass, his dick hitting that stop deep inside right under your stomach? It knocks the wind out of you and turns your words into one loud moan.
“Fuck.”
You grunt, feeling your body dancing on the edge now. You prop yourself up, watching his body flex in the mirror as he fills you up, what feels like better than anyone has before.
You move on top of the counter, move with his body when he slips his hands between your bodies to finally push you over the edge. Making him drop the knife, you grab onto that hand and bring it up to cover your mouth with his big palm, muffling the sounds of your pleasured body as he works it even deeper inside you.
“Just needed it to hurt a bit, huh?”
Frank teases, pointing out how your body gives away how close you are now, how you’re unable to keep up the bratty demeanor anymore.
“The knife got you this close?”
You whine quietly through his fingers when he holds your back against his chest. His voice turns slightly softer when he fully takes in the state of you.
With your body shaking, your chest moving faster than he’s ever seen it before, your eyes watering and your hands clinging onto his arm, you let him make the call.
“You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Hmm?”
You grunt, frustrated with the slightly condescending tone, but still nodding your head quickly.
“Attagirl, you calmed down a bit?”
And another nod, his fingers roughing over your clit, his cock twitching deep inside you.
“Yeah, that’s it, c’mon. C’mon you got it.”
He mumbles quietly, helping you lean over the counter one last time. His hands rest on your sides and as he pushes inside you again, you whine. Then again you cry out, pushing your legs together. He only manages half a thrust after pushing his fingers hard against your clit, rubbing over the most sensitive spot. You feel your body tensing up with both pain and pleasure as you reach back to hold onto his arm.
“Attagirl, you got it, that’s it”
Your nails dig into his skin while he works over you, letting your body squeeze around his cock once it finally hits you. The overwhelming pleasure floods your body, and you feel the heat from the top of your head down to the very tips of your toes. Winning out his name, you make it pretty obvious he managed it once again. With your muscles tense around him, Frank grunts loudly, pushing into you one more time before he follows with his own climax.
“Fuuuuuuuck-“
He groans, his cock aching for release once he finally reaches it. He gives a few final thrusts when he fills you up before taking a step back to pull his cock out.
Taking a deep breath in, he reaches up, pulling the mask off of his face while watching you attempt to collect yourself.
You try to catch your breath, pushing yourself up before you feel Frank's hand on your arm. He helps you up, turning you around to have you face him now and you notice his loud breathing slowly beginning to mirror your own.
You lean forward and so does he, both of you taking a moment to calm down. Your forehead rests against his as you close your eyes and attempt to steady your breathing.
“Shit.”
You glance down quickly, feeling his cum drip down the side of your leg. Frank's eyes follow, the mask tilts down when he watches the drop slide down over your skin. His hands move to your waist, and he helps you up onto the counter with a grunt. You sit right at the edge, getting comfortable and spreading your legs apart while he slowly gets on his knees right in front of you. You hold up the mask, resting it on top of his head, focusing on his face. You smile at the red hues in his skin.
“Oh, Frankie, I almost forgot how pretty you look.”
You tease and he follows up with a scoff.
“Yeah okay, c'mere.”
He pulls you forward, slightly closer to him, before helping you pull the dress up one more time. His warm breath fans your skin for a moment before he licks over his lips. They press against your skin now, right above the knee. Another kiss follows but higher up your leg and then once more. You push your legs apart more to make it easier for him.
“Attagirl.”
He mumbles against your skin, his hand rubbing over your calf softly while he works his lips over your skin for another moment.
“See? You can be nice sometimes.”
He whispers, and you hum impatiently, pushing your fingers through his exposed hair before tugging at them slightly. He scoffs, and you feel the quick breath on your center.
The second his tongue brushes over your folds, you shut your eyes completely. Still sensitive from the previous orgasm, you let your body lead this time and your head falls back, resting against the mirror while Frank takes care of you.
You moan out his name, not even attempting to fight it back, and he picks up the pace. The warm and wet sensation quickly works you up more than you're actually willing to admit. Relaxing into the feeling, you push your legs open further and Frank chuckles against your body. Your core rumbles with the sound and your thighs quickly press together, closing around his head. He groans, tongue slipping inside you while the pressure around his face tightens. Tilting his head up, he nudges the tip of his nose against your clit and your hips buck forward, a motion accompanied by another loud moan of his name.
You cover your mouth, but only for a second, failing to keep the sounds in once he wraps his lips around your most sensitive spot. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Frank successfully pushes you into an impatient state where you know if he won't get you to finish soon, you'll do it without his help. Your back arches and you mumble his name in an attempt to get his attention.
“Frank.”
You start and your body twitches. Feeling another long stroke of his tongue.
“Mhhh.”
He hums deep into you. Reaching for your legs, he throws them both over his shoulders and digs his fingers into your ass, quickly tugging you closer to him.
“Frank-”
Your breath hitches and you gasp quietly, whining his name out one more time. You feel yourself getting closer, the sounds of the party seem so distant now you almost forget where you are. Almost, because as you feel yourself getting close to your second climax, when his touch becomes so much more intense, when your legs tremble with the feeling, right at that very moment you realize. You never locked the door.
Hearing the sound of the doorknob turning, you press your foot against Frank's shoulder in a desperate attempt to push him away, but before you can do it, with his head still between your legs, Frank leans to the side quickly. With a loud grunt, he shoves the door closed with his shoulder without pulling away from you. He reaches up blindly, feeling the door for the lock, before you reach your hand over his head and finish for him.
He hums into your body, satisfied, and you feel yourself relaxing back into the feeling.
“Shit, Frankie...”
You whisper, pushing your hips forward against his face slightly. There’s a low, raspy chuckle that leaves his chest and you close your eyes, titling your head back to rest it against the mirror while he works on the second round.
You come shortly after and with your body so severely overstimulated, the soft, warm sensation of his tongue works better than he’d expect. He makes sure to take a mental note of it as he looks up from between your legs, watching when the second wave finally pushes you over the edge.
You rest, leaning against the mirror as he stands up in front of you, hand rubbing over your legs gently, his eyes fixed on yours.
“You okay?”
He asks. His soft, quiet question contrasts with whatever the hell the two of you just did in the small space of the bathroom. You lift your hand up, gesturing for him to stop talking and he chuckles quietly.
“Fair.”
He mumbles before turning his attention to his reflection. You watch as he cleans himself up a bit, washing the wet shine off his face and drying himself with the hem of his shirt.
Reaching over to the other side of the counter, he leans down, grabbing his knife off the floor and putting it away before handing the plastic mask over to you.
“Imagine if I didn't go out and pick this shit up.”
You snort, exhausted, enjoying how he literally managed to fuck the frustration out of himself.
“I don’t wanna think about that.”
You whisper, and he scoffs loudly, looking down and shaking his head before glancing back up at you.
“Yeah I bet.”
He helps you collect yourself, staying close by when you clean yourself up and straighten the fabric of your dress before handing you the previously abandoned underwear as you both get ready to leave the bathroom.
He offers you his hand, helping you off of the counter, and you lean on him while stepping down from it.
“Can you walk?”
He asks, and you look up at him, unimpressed with the not-so-subtle tease.
“Shut up.”
You mumble, hoping and praying your legs wouldn't just give out on you and give him something else to tease you about.
“Oh yeah, sorry.”
He grabs the mask and pulls it back on his face, then turns to you.
“Can you walk?”
He repeats the question, clearly enjoying this more than he should.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I saw how hard you got.”
“Okay, that’s it. Out.”
He gestures to the door, pulling it open to let you out of the room. You hold onto his hand, letting him lead. You ditch your shoes and he carries them for you as you both make your way towards the front door, glancing back in the direction of the party before turning back to face each other again.
“You wanna get the hell out of here?”
“Yeah.”
You nod.
“We gotta get all the use out of that mask before you toss it tomorrow.”
You point out, pulling the door open, and hear his laugh over your shoulder.
“You don’t think maybe you’ve had enough now?”
His voice cuts through the night, and you turn around with a playful smirk, feeling the cold, crispy autumn air fill your lungs.
“No, no, I don’t think so. Besides...”
You slowly pull the mask onto your face staring him down.
“I don’t think you’ve had enough either.”
454 notes · View notes
mins-fins · 1 month
Text
orbit of yours !
"power couple, really?" "you have to listen to me!"
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synopsis: park jisung has always admired you. hardworking, effortlessly beautiful, talented, humble— you're pretty much the personification of the word 'perfect' (you would disagree though), but your relationship has never gotten past "admirers that occasionally exchange words", so jisung has vanquished the idea of possibly being in love with you because of your lack of interactions, he's just an avid admirer of yours! so when a few accidents and mishaps force (more like drive) the two of you to be in the same room more than you ever had in the past, the idea doesn't just remain a random fantasy crafted by jisung's mind, it becomes reality.
pairing: park jisung x male!reader
genre: high school au, acquaintances to friends to lovers, photographer!reader x soccer player!jisung, fluff, kinda comedy (im not funny), mutual pining, literally no angst, fast burn lowkey, sungchan helps reader realize his feelings and it's hilarious
warnings: swearing, mentions of burnout, oblivious bitches deny their feelings for a good 10k words, this is fucking cheesy, the nightmare which is senior year
word count: 12.2k
notes: GOOD LORD IT IS FINALLY DONE! i don't wanna be overdramatic or anything but this is genuinely one of my most favorite works ever, if you couldn't tell i am VERY jisung biased and im so happy to finally be done with this because it's honestly been so fun to write 🙁 i didn't beat the xiaojun fic in terms of words but this the second longest fic i have ever written and for my jisung debut its impressive that there is absolutely NO ANGST here, i'm just very proud of myself for this and i hope people like reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.. this is for all the park jisung lovers 👍
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"WHEN WILL YOU ACTUALLY GET A PARTNER?" chenle asks the question so many times that jisung assumes the sentence has been programmed into his brain. what is it— like the 3rd time this week? he thinks chenle might be more obsessed with his love life than he is with actual important things, like college, graduation preparations, his role as a member of the student council, anything but jisung's uneventful love life, because that was probably the least interesting thing going on in his own life at the moment. "come on jisungie! i heard aejung has a crush on you!" he lets out a familiar groan, giving his friends a 'cut it out' look. "i don't really care about that kind of stuff.."
he hears all the frustrated sighs from his friends, and jisung just chuckles. he knows about the many surprisingly many— people who find themselves attracted to him. he acknowledges the fact that he has a lot of admirers, that a lot of people would perceive themselves as lucky to be in a relationship with him, he isn't new to the idea at all, he doesn't really get what makes him so attractive, such an eyeopener to his fellow students, but he mostly accepts the gifts given to him by his so called "admirers" nonetheless, not wanting to make them disappointed.
now, he says mostly because there are just times where he has no choice but to turn them down. some people get into their own heads too much, and he doesn't want to give some of them false hopes by accepting their gifts. that happened once, where a girl thought the two of them were dating because he decided to accept her gift as a sign of appreciation, that's when jisung learned that he couldn't just accept any and all gifts given to him by admirers who so greatly wanted a chance with him. jisung isn't so concerned about gifts, he wants a person who will be psychically and emotionally present for him, not someone who'll just buy him random things.
"it's gotten a little annoying.. all the confessions" jisung mutters, closing the textbook he had been jotting in. "they're nice yeah but some people just take it too far" he finally finishes, earning some confused looks from his friends. he just shrugs, shoving the textbook he had previously been jotting in into his backpack.
"but you're just so boring!" chenle whines, pressing his cheek against jisung's shoulder. jisung doesn't even try shaking him off, knowing that any of his attempts will be useless. "come on! all these people who would love to be with you and your still a lonely little loser!"
"loser? oh come on!"
"you know i'm right!"
jisung scoffs, lightly shoving chenle. while yeah, it's nice to have a lot of people admire him, everyone expects him to do this and that and act a certain way. it's like they enjoy perpetuating a false image onto him rather than actually admiring him for who he really is, and jisung doesn't think he should give people like that the time of day, they piss him off more than anything.
he's a little lost in his thought when a familiar voice sounds in his ears, a couple of giggles following the sound. "you're too funny y/n!" one of them shouted, poking a familiar figure in the shoulder, and jisung's eyes fall on you immediately, as if on instinct. you were looking as you always did, a familiar dslr camera hanging from your neck, that polite smile on your face as your friend continues poking your shoulder.
lately, you'd been quite the topic of interest among your fellow schoolmates. now that's not abnormal at all, you somehow always manage to be the talk of the town in school, you could do the smallest thing and somehow people could still make huge talk about it.
jisung would never say it, not out loud or even in mutters to himself, but he's always held a unique admiration for you, one he doesn't think he could actually put into words. there's something about you that pulls jisung in, like your a magnet and he's an oblivious piece of metal, slowly getting closer and closer to you without being able to do anything about it.
everything about you is beautiful. your eyes are a beautiful brown color, your smile is a beautiful stretch that shows off your perfect white teeth, your hair is a beautiful mix of raven and brunette. oh, and your voice is so beautiful too, it's so soft, gentle, but also deep.
you're like an angel.
at least to jisung you are.
it's pretty funny, actually, your so wrapped up in your own things that you barely notice the sheer amount of people who want to date you. you don't acknowledge romantic advances a lot, and even when you do, it always ends in rejection. you talk a lot, and your words are always pure and witty, your laughter is natural, your smile is contagious.
but.. jisung doesn't like you. he only likes you in the friend kinda way, he just wants to be friends with you. you look nice! smell nice, dress nice, speak nice..
jisung knows a lot more about you than his friends do. despite the fact that the two of you have never officially deemed yourselves "friends", he's always known little facts about you, as you him. the two of you have been going to school together for seven years, so the idea of not knowing anything about each other seems ridiculous.
you're a photographer, your favorite color is blue, specifically lighter shades, your favorite subject is history, your lucky number is 2 because of your birthdate being 02/02/02, your favorite flowers are daisies, you don't really enjoy sports, but if you were to choose one to play, it'd be baseball, and you want to go to college for journalism.
but jisung can't say that he likes you, because even if you two know all these things about each other, you've never considered yourselves "friends", all you do is admire from afar—
and when you do interact, it's just short and sweet sentences exchanged between you two, mostly because the both of you are so busy, that you can't afford to just stop and talk. sometimes, jisung wishes his life was just a little less hectic and he could stop and talk to you, because that's what he wants to do.
"what's with you?" jisung immediately yelps as chenle flicks his forehead, and he resists the urge to punch the older in the face. "gawking at y/n? really?"
"i'm not—" jisung hates that he feels his face burn. "i'm not gawking, i'm just.. i was just looking at him".
"looking at him with hearts in your eyes".
jisung scoffs at chenle's audacity, as if he wasn't doing exactly that a good few minutes ago. he would never admit it out loud before, so why should he admit it now? he'd never live it down if anybody ever found out..
"you know.." chenle begins, tapping his finger onto the desk in front of him. "you two would be a great couple" and the words are enough to make jisung roll his eyes once again. "a power couple!"
"power couple, really?" jisung raises an eyebrow, chenle never fails to say something that confuses him. he finds the words to be ridiculous, but his reaction just seems to make chenle even more giddy, because he continues;
"you have to listen to me!" chenle persists, and jisung is about to check out of the conversation completely.
"y/n is a photographer for sports journalism, you play soccer, you've known each for what.. ever? he's pretty, you clearly have the hots for him—"
"i do not!" jisung immediately yells in rebuttal, much louder than he wanted to. "yeah he's.. cute but anyone with eyes can see that, i'm not in love with him or anything".
chenle raises an eyebrow, suspicious, but jisung remains stubborn, crossing his arms as he averts his gaze from his best friend.
yes, you are cute, anybody with two functioning eyes can see that.
"i think park jisung might have a crush on you".
at the words, you look up from your camera, meeting eyes with your close friend, sungchan. you blink, as if dumbfounded, then snicker. "park jisung? are you trying to boost my ego or something?"
you know park jisung, you know about how probably half the students in this room dream of having a chance with him. so many people like park jisung, so many people want park jisung.
and if you think about it, you can't exactly blame them for that..
"don't laugh! i'm serious! he looked like he was about to devour you, did you see his eyes!?"
the words just get another laugh out of you, the words seem ridiculous in your eyes, because why would park jisung, beautiful, talented, striking park jisung have a crush on you? in your eyes, your pretty much nothing to him.
"okay.. why would park jisung ever be interested in me?" you ask, rearranging your camera as you raise an eyebrow at sungchan, who simply deadpans at you, that familiar 'are you serious?' look in his eyes.
"okay let me see, your smart, pretty, everyone likes you at this point, also— the two of you are pretty much perfect for each other! you'd be a power couple!"
you furrow your eyebrows, a power couple? you'd never heard that phrase used to talk about somebody your friends had been "shipping" you with, your not even sure if you can even consider yourself friends with jisung, because the two of you can never actually talk to each other without someone coming up and interrupting the interaction.
you'd love to just be able to talk to park jisung, just the two of you, one on one.
"power couple? that's funny.."
"you think everything is funny" ironically, you laugh at your friends words. "this could be like— your only chance at having an actual romantic connection with someone".
"i don't care that much about romance, chan" you muse, humming as you turn off your camera. your eyes wander over to jisung, who is very much distracted by something stupid chenle is saying, he's laughing about something, laughing hard too.
there is no reason for him to look so pretty as he laughs like a maniac..
he's cute, you say in your mind, he is absolutely adorable.
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"WHAT DID YOU GUYS GET ON THAT STATISTICS TEST FOR SONG?" a boy from the same year and member of the soccer team along with jisung inquired. they sat on the bleachers in front of field, watching as the baton club practices. they have to practice this week, unfortunately, so jisung's schedule had become tight and packed, he barely had any free time these days, it was all exams, college tours, last minute extracurriculars, and practice, practice, practice. "i got a b plus" one of his classmates responds, the other responded; "i got a b on mine". jisung was very far removed from the current conversation, his eyes on a familiar trio of sports journalists on the other side of the field, a trio which included you, mesmerizing you. he sees you often these days, with that same dslr camera around your neck, a pretty smile stuck on your face.
"you, jisung! what score did you get?" one of his classmates asks, but jisung was occupied, so he didn't answer. a tap on his shoulder makes jisung snap out of his staring fit, and he blinks a few times, assessing where he is. "what?"
"we were asking about the marks on the recent statistics test!"
"ah" jisung presses his lips together. "i got an a plus" he says the words casually, but it causes for a cheer to be sounded by his fellow classmates, who shook him and slapped his back supportively.
"you're so smart jisungie!"
the praise from his classmates get a smile out of jisung, but he isn't focusing on that, his attention is on you. even with how your across the field, he can clearly see all of your features, the sun shining on your face makes you look majestic, like an actual angel, jisung isn't sure why he's even focusing so much on your face, but he can't focus on anything else, because his eyes just naturally always wander over to you.
"will this ever finish?" you inquire, pertaining to the baton club, who were still on the field even after they were supposed to get off. "i'm supposed to take photos of the soccer players for my editorials.." you mutter, it'd be horrible if you couldn't even deliver on the promise you made to your superiors.
"they're probably going to split the field" your fellow sports journalist, taehyun says. a small groan escapes your lips, you're annoyed, you hope this doesn't interfere with the photos you have to take, it'd be horrible if you just ended up doing the same thing all over again. "see? baton club is taking one side and the soccer team takes the main area because they need to start practicing now".
"they look so cute! i've always wanted to be apart of the soccer team!" lee sohee exclaims, and you turn towards him, a look of interest on your face. he attentively watches the boys, humming to the song that's playing. "why didn't you join them then?" you inquire, interest peaked.
sohee smiles at you, readjusting his camera and fixing his posture. "i enjoyed writing the editorial articles more" he shrugs. "wanted to try out but i missed the tryouts because eunseok hyung would have killed me if i missed anton's recital" at the words, you laugh, used to the behavior from the older boy.
"maybe next year".
"you'd fit in perfectly!" taehyun muses, and sohee brightens up, seemingly loving the words.
"really!? that's what seunghan tells me too!" he cheers at the words, looking proud of himself. "i'd look cute in that uniform though.."
you chuckle at sohee's word, finding him to be absolutely adorable. "yeah, you definitely would" you ruffle his hair, smiling at the giggle which sounds from the boy.
"i'm gonna go get a closer look at them" you say, motioning towards the soccer team. taehyun nods and watches as you get closer to the field, not super close, but close enough that your camera can capture a good view of the soccer team. you narrow your eyes, pointing your camera at the busy boys who are doing their usual routine, the viewfinder shows jisung in all his glory.
you take pictures, zooming in and out. you don't mean to put all the focus on jisung, he's just too alluring to not be the center of attention. he's such a natural, he's just so amazing, you can't not focus on him.
[click.]
and another shot, another one as jisung scores the goal. jisung's posture was perfect, his back straight, chin high as he wore an angelic smile. jisung hears the clicking of the camera, and looks to his left to see you, in the viewfinder you see jisung looking in your direction, you pause for a moment and notice a baton heading straight towards him.
"jisung watch out!" you yell, at the words, he tilts his head.
you quickly take the strap of the camera off your neck, throwing it until it landed right beside your fellow journalists, who looked as confused as jisung did. you ran as fast as you could, grabbing jisung's wrist and pulling him close to you.
the baton managed to hit the ground instead, and jisung shrieks as he loses his balance, toppling forward. he quickly grabs onto the closest thing to him.
you.
you lowered your arms to catch jisung, and you feel him hold onto the sleeves of your blazer, one of your arms on his stomach, the other on his waist. all his weight was in your arms, causing for you to lose balance too.
"shit—" you swear, falling onto your back. jisung fell on top of you, the grass tickling his skin. your back immediately hits the grass, and your head hits the ground softly, but your arms remain around jisung. jisung's hands were still on your arms, his upper body laid on top of yours, his head was buried into your shoulder, and he was sat in between your legs.
jisung takes a sharp breath, a look of worry quickly flashes in his eyes as he sees you. "holy shit y/n are you okay!?" jisung asks, pulling away from your prior position and you sit up, opening your eyes to meet his worried ones. jisung kneels, leaning closer to you as he cups your cheeks with his hands. "did you get hurt? is your head okay!?" he asks, or yells, turning your head to inspect for any signs of wounds. you just stare at him, his bangs that messily lay against his forehead, his eyes that glimmered under the sunlight, and his pink lips that you totally just want to lean over and touch with your own.
"yeah.." you whisper, your cheeks squished from the force of jisung's hands.
jisung stops turning your head and sighs. "are you sure?" he asks, still holding your face. you nod, placing one of your hands on jisung's, his are soft, yours are rough, you note. you move his hand and smile. "i'm alright don't worry" you respond, still holding jisung's hand. jisung pursues his lips, and he extends his hand out, pulling you up from the ground. you let go of his hand, dusting off your pants.
"jesus y/n" taehyun's voice sounds from behind you, and you finally glance away from jisung, eyes focused on your friend. "are you okay? your not injured are you?"
"i'm fine.." you mumble again, blinking as taehyun suddenly hands you your camera. ah, he'd picked it up for you. you take it, inspecting it to make sure it's not broken.
"is the camera okay?" jisung inquires, looking over your shoulder to stare at it.
luckily, it wasn't damaged because it had fallen on the soft grass. "it's still working" you respond, and the two boys beside you let out a sigh of relief, with taehyun placing a hand on his chest.
"jisung! come back here!" his coach quickly yells, jisung looks to you, then back to his teammates. "thanks, i owe you" he says before running back towards his group, fetching the soccer ball he'd left on the ground prior.
"wow your like a hero!" sohee exclaims, shaking your shoulder with a smile. you just let out a nervous laugh, scratching your arm. you give one last glance at jisung before you feel your face heat up excessively, so you quickly turn away, putting your camera back around your neck.
"we should go back in now" you say, you don't say any more words as you quickly make your way towards the doors. your friends blink, exchanging glances in confusion, but they quickly follow you back inside.
"y/n! wait up!"
jisung watches you three leave, feeling his heart racing against his chest.
what the hell just happened? he asks himself.
"jisung are you okay!?" a very familiar voice shrieks. jisung turns to meet his fellow teammate jooyeon, looking concerned as ever.
"i'm alright, thanks for asking" he answers, gaze lowering down to his nails, which he quickly starts picking.
"are you sure? you looked like you hit your head pretty hard" the younger boy, as always, just wants to make sure jisung isn't lying, he's genuine like that. he pokes jisung's forehead, as if he was inspecting him.
"seriously, i'm fine" jisung lowers his hand, giving him his default 'i'm okay' smile. "y/n cushioned the blow anyway.."
"you were so close to him!" jisung startles as keum donghyun comes out of nowhere. "how did it feel? was it like a dream come true?"
"i—" jisung is speechless, he closes his mouth and blinks a good seven times before even actually assessing the question.
how did it feel?
jisung doesn't know how to express it. he didn't want to think about it in that way because you'd just done such a good deed, you saved him from flying metal going straight towards his head, he shouldn't have been thinking about the lack of distance between you two, he shouldn't have been staring at your lips, and he shouldn't have been thinking about kissing you.
his face must be so unbearably red right now.
"don't ask that! it was just very abrupt.. also, i can't think of him like that! he saved me from a flying baton, i'm just grateful for him".
jooyeon hums in agreement, slapping donghyun's shoulder for him ever asking such a thing. "that's right, you should probably get him a token of appreciation or something".
jisung blinks, trying to imagine what he should ever gift you. he truly has no idea, he's not sure if he should go over and beyond, or just give you a little gift as to not intimidate you. "i can't really think of anything, i don't want to overwhelm him or something, he just wanted to do a nice thing.."
"i'm sure he'll be appreciative of anything!"
at the words, jisung just sighs, smiling.
what a hero, l/n y/n— you really are something, he thinks.
"yeah— i'll think about it".
"good! back to practice now!"
jisung doesn't think he will ever fully be able to focus on practice, though.
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"YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'VE BEEN RAN OVER BY A TRAIN" the words from the older boy, yang jeongin, snap you out of your polaroid staring daze. you flinch just the slightest, eyes peeling away from the scattering pictures which litter your desk. you rub your eyes, clearing your throat as you quickly gather all of the photos on your desk, hoping the eye bags present on your face weren't completely obvious. knowing jeongin though, they were definitely obvious. "thanks for the kind words" you respond sarcastically, a small eye roll accompanying your words. the older boy snickers, situating himself beside you, a teasing smile on his face. he props his legs up, blinking at you. "seriously though, you look like you haven't slept in years, are you alright?"
"i'm as alright as someone looking to pursue journalism can be.." you mutter back, placing the photos which were previously on your desk into your backup, a small sigh escapes your lips. "all of my applications are still pending.."
"seriously? i assume you would've been accepted into any of those schools by now!"
"you know how it all goes, they get hundreds— heck, thousands of applications every day, i just have to be patient".
jeongin raises an eyebrow, then just shrugs at you, humming. "there's no need to worry, y/n, you'll get into a good school".
you chuckle at his words, he totally read your mind when it came to that. "i'm not worried about anything" you lie; "i'll be okay, i know".
but do you?
your absolutely tired the whole entire day, you tried your best to focus in your classes, but you couldn't help your head slipping down and the way you almost slipped off to dreamland whilst your teachers were asking you very much audible questions.
"did you sleep last night?" sungchan asks you in the middle of your afternoon break, poking your arm as if to wake up. "you look like a zombie.."
"i slept a few.. hours?" your tone is very much a questioning one, as if you didn't even believe your own words. "i don't know, i was too busy fighting with lin, apparently i'm not good enough at what i do to consider journalism".
paired with the lack of response to your several applications, you weren't having the best week, it was all becoming just a little too much for you.
graduation is just too far away..
"anyway! did you choose the photos you'll put in the editorial yet?"
you think, for a while. you felt as if you had stared at so many polaroids by this point, that they're probably going to start appearing in your dreams, with the lack of sleep, constant flashing of cameras and just news news news, you've really had no time to focus on other things.
"i haven't even found time to think about the editorial" you whine, a weary sigh escaping your lips as you think about how pissed off your higher up is gonna be if you almost miss the deadline once again. "is the deadline coming up?"
"well— is four days a close deadline for you?"
you gasp, loudly, almost throwing your camera across the hallway. "four days!? four days until the deadline seriously!?"
you usually aren't like this. you are usually very calm, cool, and collected, but your week has been just the definition of a shit storm, and everything just seems getting worse and worse.
"hey, it's okay!" sungchan immediately replies, hoping to reassure you. he places a hand on your shoulder, a smile coming to his face. "it's not like this is anything new, it'll all be fine, you only have to choose two pictures anyway".
you sigh, rubbing your temples. "yeah" you breath. "it'll be fine, fine" you repeat, nodding your head as you relax yourself.
the hallway is crowded, not crowded crowded, but crowded enough that you couldn't help but begin counting the heads around you.
your eyes get stuck on a familiar figure across the hall.
park jisung, smiling and laughing with his friends. you get lost in a trance of admiring him, even though you can clearly hear sungchan talking to you. all your attention is immediately on him, and a small smile spreads across your face as you observe him, being himself.
there is absolutely no reason for him to be so breathtaking while just talking with his friend!
you are so distracted, and you don't mean to get stuck in this little reverie as you stare at the boy that you totally do not have a crush on.
he hasn't really left your mind, instead of just floating around in there like he'd been before that whole prior incident, now he occupies a whole subsection of your mind in recent days. you could be with your other friends, and all of a sudden your mind would wander off to jisung, or you could be in class and he just pops into your head.
you never thought you'd be one to get distracted easily, but you've clearly been proven wrong by just the alluring aura of park jisung.
you startle when jisung turns your way, making eye contact with you. he smiles upon noticing you, his eyes practically lighting up, and he waves at you. your a little taken aback, but jisung doesn't wait to see you wave back, just turning back towards his friend and continuing his previous conversation.
"what was that?"
"what was what?"
you quickly look over at sungchan, who had just witnessed that whole entire scene. he looks at you like you just grew a second head, and your face begins to burn as the realization dawns on you.
"you and park jisung!?"
your quick to try and sputter out a response, but you shake your head, face excessively heating up, it's probably red at this very moment. "there is nothing going on between us!"
"that doesn't seem like nothing!"
you realize how guilty you look right now. with your red face and constant insistence that there is absolutely nothing going on, those are traits the guiltiest of people display, and it all just makes you look even more guilty with how your face gets even more red.
(you must look like you're dying right now).
"it's just a friendly exchange!"
"not while your looking at him with hearts in your eyes!"
he was completely calling you out, and he was right. you were staring at jisung like he was an angel that had graced your presence, you stare at him like he's a saint and everyone else doesn't matter, as if he's the only person in the room. "i— i wasn't! i was just zoned out and he just waved at me to say hi!"
sungchan narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, totally not buying it. "uh huh, sure" his voice conveys disbelief. "just know, i'm onto you y/n".
you nudge him in the shoulder, seriously wanting to change the topic. "yeah yeah whatever" you cross your arms as you mutter the words, you're sure if you take one more glance at jisung, you won't be able to look away, so you just clear your throat and walk the other way, face still red as sungchan teases you the whole entire time.
maybe if you glanced back, you'd see jisung watching as you left..
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JISUNG WAS REALLY HOPING HE'D BE ABLE TO catch you before school dismissed. you two haven't genuinely had an actual talk since you saved him from the flying baton heading straight towards his head. all you two have done is give smiles, waves, and mutter small greetings to each other in the hallway. he had to admit, it upset him in just the slightest, because he really did want to just have a conversation with you (of course, he isn't exactly sure he'd be able to get through a conversation with you without blushing like a madman anyway), but your schedules just kept conflicting, so even catching a glimpse of you around the campus has become difficult for him to do.
he doesn't want to waste any opportunity he has in his hands—
"y/n!"
when jisung sees you across the hall, he realizes that he shouldn't take this chance for granted. you turn around at the call of your name, smiling as you see the others making his way towards you. jisung runs a hand through his hair, hoping he isn't making anything awkward. "jisung hi, do you need something?"
you smile politely at him, a smile so beautiful it seems like it could get rid of all the problems in the world. jisung loves your smile, he could stare at it for hours, is that creepy? he hopes it's not creepy..
"oh uh—" the words he'd been planning to say somehow get caught in his throat, but he clears his throat and proceeds. "i was wondering if i could walk you home?"
you blink, puzzled by the question. why would he want to walk you home? your mind begins to wander, trying to figure out why he'd want to do such a thing.
can't you just ask y/n? stop being an idiot..
"why?"
you don't mean for your words to come out that way, and you're almost afraid that you made jisung uncomfortable with your tone of voice, but he instead just smiles, squashing any of your bad thoughts. you love jisung's smile, you think it's underrated, so little people talk about it and the fact shocks you, you could probably compliment his smile for hours—
but that sounds just a little creepy.
"i just want to accompany you—" —and this is my only excuse to be around you— "do something nice for you after you did something nice for me".
the words make you pause. he's just.. so thoughtful huh? you've never heard of someone wanting to repay you for being nice, it's actually a little strange if you think about it.
"jisung you don't have to reward me for doing something nice.."
"it'd be great to walk with you, though, you make good company".
that's it? that's really it?
you're not sure why you're surprised about that, maybe it's just the idea that he literally searched for you just to say this, he truly just wants to walk you home, he truly just wants to spend time with you.
he thinks i make good company, just the thought alone is enough to make you giggle in your head. your inner thoughts sound ridiculous, but you can't help them.
"if you don't want me to it's totally oka—"
"no no no" you immediately cut into his sentence, hoping that didn't come off as desperate as it sounded. "i'm glad you offered to walk me home, i'd love to walk with you too".
you unsuccessfully try to mutter those last few words, a sudden shyness taking over you. jisung smiles, glad, no, elated at your agreement. he doesn't know why he's that happy, but he hopes it isn't clear and evident, he'd never live it down.
after bidding a goodbye to your friends, and telling sungchan you'd make sure to choose the photos for your editorials, you dragged jisung out of the school doors, much to your and jisung's surprise, as well as the shock of a few of your classmates, he made sure to eye the both of you suspiciously.
"what interested you in photography?"
a scene like this is something jisung thought he'd never get to, being able to talk to you, one on one. just the two of you sharing a simple conversation is what he's wanted for an uncharted amount of time, even with how straightforward it is, the two of you could never really find time to converse normally.
when jisung asks the question, you almost think you heard him wrong. he genuinely wants to know? in a way, you feel like you've always been just the slightest bit boring, yeah you wanna do journalism and love taking aesthetically pleasing photos but you've never considered what you do to be a talent by any means.
you pick at your fingers, looking down at the ground instead of at jisung. "it's an interest i picked up from my mother, i've always been shocked how she could just do that, you know? i love videography and stuff like that as well, i love how one can capture so much with just a single camera".
your words intrigue jisung, and he listened the whole entire way, not interrupting you once. he found a smile crossing his face at the clear display of passion for your creative work, he loves the way you put it into words. god if he didn't admire you before, he surely did now.
"what about you? you're pretty much good at everything, what drew you to the adrenaline rushing excitement of soccer?"
jisung pauses, allowing himself to let out a small snicker at the question. "i don't really enjoy soccer".
you raise an eyebrow. "oh?"
jisung laughs again, your tone of voice amusing him. "don't say it like that.. it's not that i hate it, i'm just not as into it like everyone expects me to be, i got onto the school team and i've been stuck there ever since" there isn't exactly distaste in jisung's tone, he just states it casually, like how it is. his voice is just simple, mundane, he doesn't dislike soccer, it's just not what he's looking forward to do.
you love his honesty.
"i'm into other things in a much more passionate sense, like dance, soccer is just a hobby" he finally finishes, pulling his sleeves over his arms as he avoids eye contact with you.
"so no professional soccer player park jisung?"
"i think i'll leave it to the other guy to be known for that".
you chuckle at his words, okay, he's funny (you knew that already, you just had to reiterate it in your head). god how can a guy be so perfect? you get why people are so into jisung, he's charming even without trying. you feel like the luckiest guy on earth knowing he asked to walk you home.
"y/n, i'm a very.." jisung pauses, as if trying to articulate the words he was about to say. "i really admire you a lot".
you almost lose it.
park jisung, beautiful, talented, hardworking park jisung admires you? he is an admirer of yours? you don't even know what to say, you try your best to sputter out a response but your brain is practically malfunctioning. your face goes red, and you go silent for a few minutes.
"i don't get it" is what you say, and jisung just cocks his head towards the side, observing you. "what's so admirable about me?"
"do you want a list?"
oh i'd love that. "i don't think you should waste your time".
"i wouldn't be wasting my time" jisung smiles, his gaze focused on you and only you, there's a way he's looking at you that keeps you still, unable to look away from him. "i never get the chance to tell you, i'd love to talk about everything i admire about you".
when did jisung get so bold? he'll never know where this random confidence came from, but he has an opportunity, he can't let it go to waste. he has to bring it up to you.
"what i do is nothing incredible—"
"i would disagree".
you should be angry that jisung interrupted you, but you found yourself smiling at his words. he's so generous, he doesn't have to tell you this, he doesn't have to compliment you like this, but he's doing it on his own accord, he wants to.
"okay then.. is it a good time to tell you that i also feel the same?"
jisung's ears go red, so red that it looks like smoke is gonna start pouring out of them. he is shocked, absolutely speechless. you admire him? does that mean he's gotten it all wrong these past few years? does that mean you return his feelings as well—
wait what?
"oh really?"
the prior confidence jisung had when telling you about his admiration has now all fizzled away, his voice almost cracks as he tries to register your words, and thank god it doesn't.
"it's kind of like what you said, you're amazing, a very admirable person, i know you don't really think of yourself like that but i do, and it's nice to be able to tell you up front".
jisung remains silent, but you don't mind, you just give him a smile and continue walking forward, allowing for him to catch up to you.
"is that actually true?"
"why would i lie to you?" you turn around, your whole body facing him. you begin walking backwards and wait for jisung's reply to your question. "don't give me that look".
jisung frowns, a playful one, he sends you a cute little glare that makes you giggle. he's absolutely adorable, you think in your head, he's the cutest person ever right now.
"you admire me?"
"yep".
"more than i admire you?"
"definitely, and don't even try to argue with me".
jisung opens his mouth to do exactly that, but you stop, turning around as you make it to the front of your house. "okay well, thank you for walking me home, ji".
jisung raises an eyebrow, noting down the nickname in his head. it's a common nickname, but he loves the way it sounds coming from you, he loves that you didn't just drop his full name.
"it's no problem.."
"i—"
you're cut off by the sound of the door opening, and your met with the face of your mother, whose face immediately brightens at the sight of you. you smile at her, and jisung just kinda stands there awkwardly.
"hi honey" she wraps her arms around you, and you let her, leaning your head onto her shoulder. "i thought you were staying late today?"
you shake your head. "not today, it's friday remember?"
"ohhh, yeah".
jisung glances down at the ground, playing with his feet. he doesn't know what to say, he doesn't want to interrupt the conversation you're having with your mother—
but he doesn't have to say anything, because your mother pipes up.
"oh! and who might this be?" she narrows her eyes at jisung, cogs in her brain seem to turn but then she snaps his fingers and gasps, seemingly getting it. "oh my god! park jisung?"
jisung smiles, a little laugh escaping his lips. "that is me".
"holy, you've changed so much? the last time i saw you you were barely up to my knees!"
at the sound of your mothers words, you give jisung a teasing stare, one which he quickly turns away from. "you and y/n are finally friends? i was wondering when it'd happen.."
your face goes bright red at the words, and an awkward chuckle escapes your lips. "seems he was too, he always talked about it—"
"haha! what!? that's hilarious mom!" you quickly cut in, not wanting her to talk about your former ramblings about park jisung, park jisung who was right beside you. "yeah okay, jisung i'll see you monday?"
jisung nods, a little too desperately for his liking, luckily you don't notice. "yeah, monday, have a good weekend, y/n".
you smile, blood rushing through your cheeks. "be safe".
he gives a small wave and turns around, beginning the walk back towards his home.
"he's such a nice kid, you sure you're just friends?"
your jaw pretty much drops, and you give your mother a look you don't think you've ever shared with her before. "yes! just friends!"
"hmm, sure".
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"WHO ARE THOSE FOR?" CHENLE asks as he immediately notices the goodies in jisung's hands. he raises an eyebrow suspiciously at his best friend, examining the bouquet of flowers and box jisung held. jisung ignores him for a couple of minutes, placing the box in his locker and closing it behind him. "for someone" he just replies, hoping he could just remain vague instead of telling chenle about his true plans. the older narrows his eyes, clearly curious about this 'someone'. he flicks jisung in the forehead, resulting in a yelp from the other, who glares. "ow! what was that for?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows and rubbing his forehead, a frown now coming to his face.
"what you're hiding stuff from me now?" chenle rolls his eyes at jisung's frown. "who are those flowers for? you got a boyfriend or something?"
chenle was right in assuming it was a boy that was making him go crazy, but you aren't his boyfriend (not yet at least, he's trying, really). he doesn't want to exactly divulge his plans to his nosy best friend yet, just because he'd go around telling everybody he could about what jisung was doing, he didn't want anything to be spoiled.
"they're for.. y/n".
jisung winces the moment he says those words, because chenle goes absolutely crazy.
"FOR WHO!?"
jisung is quick to slap a hand over chenle's mouth, glaring at him for how loud he said those words. "could you be any more obvious?" he asks, gritting his teeth as he continues to glare at his shorter best friend, whose eyes just widen even more. "yes they're for y/n—"
"what are you two dating now?" chenle doesn't care about anything jisung has to say, he slaps his hand away and stares in interest, wanting to know more.
"no! were not dating! it's just—" jisung pauses, how is he even gonna explain this without looking super guilty? blood rushes through his cheeks as he thinks about it, about how these are your favorite flowers, about how you might react. "i wanted to get him something nice! he did a good thing and.."
and i am just so in love with him, i think i might be going insane.
"i just want to do something nice!"
"okay but are you doing something nice or are you getting ready to ask him out?"
jisung's face goes a dangerously red color, and he immediately shakes his head, denial coursing through his veins. "i'm not going to ask him out, i mean— i get why you think that but it's not what it looks like!"
chenle raises an eyebrow, staring at his totally lovestruck best friend. "it sure does seem to be what it looks like".
"chenle—"
"look, jisung, there's no need to deny that you have such an obvious crush on y/n" chenle states like it's a matter of a fact, because it is, they both know it very well, he's better at assessing jisung's feelings than jisung himself is. "he thinks your cute, you think he's cute, you two just need to ask each other out".
"um.." jisung presses his lips together, the two falling into a weird silence. he clutches the daisies in his hands, thinking about you, but he shuts off his thoughts to respond to chenle's little analysis of him.
"i just don't know where we stand, i mean we're barely even friends".
"you two are pretty much already more than friends considering he can't talk to you without looking like he's about to devour you whole".
jisung's face must be an astonishing shade of red right now. "it's not—! i don't know how to explain it okay!?"
"yeah and how are you gonna explain the flowers?" chenle points at the daisies jisung is practically squeezing to death. "other people are probably gonna get another idea".
"well i'll let them think what they want" jisung responds, his only focus is you, who cares what other people think? your his main priority. "y/n is my main focus, i don't care about what other people are saying".
chenle chuckles at his response, oh park jisung is so down bad, he's so in love with you, a kind of love chenle has never seen him have for another person. yes park jisung, love avoiding extraordinaire, is head over heels in love with a boy, chenle cannot believe it.
"okay jisung, go ahead with your wooing y/n mission or something".
at least chenle is supportive.
jisung has to go through so many interrogations to explain to your fellow photographers why he's giving you flowers, while a few of them just shrug and get it, the rest of them make sure to eye him suspiciously while he goes on with his explanation and bright red ears.
he knows most of them probably won't keep their mouths shut, and jisung knows that you told him he shouldn't get you anything for preventing him from getting any future brain damage, but jisung disagrees, he thinks you deserve gifts.
"who are those for?"
your brain doesn't register the flowers, or the connection that they have with your not-so-secret admirer, you just stare at them puzzled. "they're for you!" sohee yells from somewhere else in the room, focused on another important thing.
your eyebrows furrow, and you blink as you stare at the daisies on the table. daisies are your favorite flowers, but everyone knows that! these could be from anyone! you're no stranger to getting random gifts from people, so these could really be from anyone.
but you only have a certain person in mind..
"from who?" you ask, but you really already know who, considering the knowing look sohee sends to you.
"jisung".
of course, you say in your head, your fingers trace the packaging of the bouquet, admiring the pretty flowers before you (the pretty flowers given to you by a pretty boy), a small smile comes to your face as you think about it. you told jisung not to get you anything, but he obviously wasn't going to listen to you, he's made that very clear.
"did he tell you anything?"
sohee doesn't spare you another glance, but you can just tell he's grinning like a madman with the way he's clearly trying to hold in his laughter. "he just told me to make sure to get them to you, he was very insistent".
the teasing tone of your friends voice doesn't go unnoticed by you, and your barely able to stifle your laugh, not at sohee exactly, but at jisung's actions.
of course he didn't listen when you said for him to not get you anything, he remembered what your favorite flowers are, did he spend his weekend thinking about it? you wonder what kind of florists we must've went to.. your mind races with just jisung thoughts, and you're just so lost in them that you don't realize your zoning out.
oh park jisung, why do you have to be so sweet?
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"DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO?" YOU immediately ask the moment you come across park jisung in the hallway. the boy blinks, smiling at the sight of you, his face practically brightens at the sight of you. "what do you mean?" he inquired innocently, a small tilt of his head adding to his question. you send him a glare, not a serious one, but it's still a glare. you can't even believe his audacity, for him to look at you with such beautiful eyes, make your knees feel weak without even having to do anything? park jisung is just such a crazy man, you don't know if you can stare at him any longer, you might end up passing out from heat exhaustion (the heat from your face, of course, something that's become so normal for you when around park jisung).
"don't 'what do you mean?' me, i told you not to get me anything!" you complain, lightly shoving jisung's shoulder. "seriously, i said it was fine.." you mumble those words, but jisung just smiles.
"i wanted to get you something anyway, i needed to show you my appreciation somehow".
but just your admiration is enough appreciation for me, just you being around is enough, just you is enough.
your own thoughts weird you out on occasions.
"i told you not to—"
"but i wanted to, it's fine y/n, seriously, just accept my gesture".
you bite your inner cheek, he just always has to be nice, doesn't he? your cheeks flare up and you swear your face goes a shade of red you've never seen before, how does one boy even affect you like this? you don't think you've ever acted like this around any of your other admirers ever..
"ah" a small smile comes to your face. "thank you" you whisper, you're not sure why you get so shy all of a sudden.
"it's no problem" jisung responds, a smile coming to his face. he closes the door to his locker, and then leans onto it. "walk with me?"
you blink, jisung really likes walking with you, huh? is this gonna become your thing? you wouldn't really mind when you think about it.. you enjoy walking with jisung, you just enjoy any time you can spend with jisung.
"what's with you and asking to walk with me?"
"walking with you is just.. nice".
"do i ease your stresses or something?"
your tone is meant to come off as teasing, and your question is mostly unserious, you don't register how you sound like your flirting with jisung, probably because everything just feels so natural with jisung, you love how you feel around him, it's confusing to explain.
"i guess you could say that" jisung's response snaps you out of your jisung focused thoughts, thoughts which are difficult to not get stuck in considering park jisung is constantly occupying your mind these days. "anyway, can you walk with me?"
you pause, tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek. you have class in twenty minutes, and you don't really want to walk back all the way with only five minutes left to make it to class. "i don't know.. chen might kill me".
"please?"
that catches you off guard, you seemingly forget how to think for a second. jisung really wants to walk with you so bad, he's reverting to that easily convincing voice of his? you'd be an idiot to say no, you'd be an idiot to deny anything given to you by park jisung, you sigh in your head.
"okay, fine".
a smile of victory places itself on jisung's face, and he takes your hand, to your own surprise, as the two of you begin making your way down the hall. you wanna bring it up, but you don't want him to let go of you, so you don't. your face goes a bright shade of red, jisung doesn't seem to mind, or maybe he's always wanted to hold your hand, you aren't sure.
you focus way too much on it, on the way it feels, how jisung's soft hands contrast your rough ones, how warm his hands are, you don't want to let go, you don't want him to let go. god, you feel like such a loser, freaking out over a boy holding your hand.
but it's not just a boy, it's park jisung, park jisung makes you feel things you thought you'd never feel before..
"why do you seem so worried?" jisung chuckles, his hand holding yours. he nudges your shoulder lightly, raising an eyebrow.
"because, i don't wanna be late".
jisung snickers, not making fun of you, though, he hopes you don't think that. "have you never skipped a class before?"
your eyes widen as large as saucers, model student park jisung has skipped classes? a small chuckle escaped your lips. "no, i could never bring myself to, it always made me feel strange.."
now it's jisung's turn to look surprised, you laugh again, why does he assume you skip classes? or have even attempted to skip? you wonder what goes through his mind. "are you serious? you've never tried to skip before?"
you scoff, pinching his arm. "i tried to once in the sixth grade because of a dare from friends, but i literally couldn't do it, they called me a wimp for the rest of the year".
"aww sad".
"don't give me your fake pity, also— you've skipped class before!?"
jisung chuckles at your surprise, giving a small smile. "it was a few times as a sophomore, some classes are just so boring i can't resist".
"wow, model student park jisung skips his classes? i cannot believe the information that has been bestowed upon me".
the words, paired with your sarcastic tone made jisung let out yet another snicker, he hopes he's not overdoing it in your eyes, you're genuinely just a very funny person. "oh no! don't use this secret to tarnish my pristine reputation!"
"you're such an idiot".
a cute idiot.
"be quiet, you still love me" jisung rebuts, adding a small nudge to your shoulder along with his words.
it's weird to say, but you like this. even with your totally non-romantic feelings for jisung, you find this nice. is this what dating him would be like? you get to hold hands and joke around in the halls without a care in the world? you think you'd enjoy that, you'd enjoy dating park jisung.
wait what?
you snap out of your thoughts when jisung stops, so you stop too. he lets go of your hand, and you resist the urge to frown, because you don't want to come off as desperate. (but you are desperate, you're so desperate, having park jisung hold your hand was so nice, you want him to hold it again).
"this is my stop, thank you for my walking with me".
the words are simple, basic, but you find your face heating up at them anyway. you clear your throat, not wanting to stay silent any longer. "it was no problem, i couldn't disagree anyway".
jisung laughs, he is so pretty, so pretty without even having to do anything significant. "of course you couldn't" he looks down at his feet. "anyway! have a good day y/n, don't be late to your next class!"
you blink as you watch jisung walk into the auditorium for his next class, you watch as he walks away, standing there for what seems like forever. how could a guy, just a guy affect you so much? what is it with park jisung and making you stop in your tracks? he's mesmerizing, just so easily draws you in.
your eyes widen as you realize the time, you're going to be late for your next class, mr. chen is going to kill you!
and as you totally sprint down the hallway to get to your next class, your mind is racing with thoughts of park jisung the entire time.
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"AM I NOT YOUR BEST FRIEND?" YOU CAN practically hear the pout in sungchan's voice as he said those words. you place the extra polaroids on your desk, then glance up at your friend, who stares at you with an expression of defeat on his face. you raise an eyebrow, puzzled at what the actual hell he's talking about, he's always just bringing stuff up so randomly, you can't even keep up with what he's referring to now. sungchan just frowns, letting out a groan of frustration as plops down beside you, a small huff adding to his words. you chuckle at the way he decides to present himself, and he groans once again, very frustrated. "where is this coming from?"
"why didn't you tell me about you and jisung".
you pause, an expression of surprise comes to your face, your face which heats up astonishingly quickly. "me and jisung? me and jisung what? we aren't—"
"y/n there's no point in denying it, everyone already knows".
"everyone already knows what?"
"that you and jisung have a thing, it's fine if you don't wanna tell everyone but excluding me? your best friend in the whole entire world from the news?"
"jisung and i aren't dating!" you say immediately, clasping your hands together as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart. why do people even think that? yeah you like park jisung but how did people even reach the conclusion that you were dating? you're not even sure if jisung returns your feelings. "i don't even know where people got that idea.."
"so your constant yearning stares and pitched up giggles are all not apart of that?"
"i don't—" you are definitely showcasing all guilty characteristics, your red face, your shrill voice, and your very obvious lying, sungchan sees right through you, anyone would be able to. "yearning stares are stupid i don't do that!"
"yeah, sure y/n" sungchan sighs, and you groan, screaming into your pillow. "i'm not trying to be mean or anything, but it's disgustingly obvious that you're into jisung, and i mean in a cringy way".
you gasp in offense, turning away from your best friend. you want to remain stubborn, but you can't, of course you can't, how can you even deny your feelings for jisung anymore if other people can now tell that you like him? your face heats up in embarrassment, and you cover your face with your hands. "is it really that obvious?" you mutter, hoping the answer isn't what you think it is.
"yeah, very, i wouldn't even be surprised if the two of you were actually dating and this was a little trick of yours".
sungchan points at you, an accusatory look in his eyes, but he immediately lets it go, because he knows you, and he can tell that you are telling the truth. you don't even have the courage to look at him, still covering your face with your hands. "have you not told jisung how you feel yet?"
your silence tells sungchan everything he needs to know, and the look he gives you is absolutely criminal.
"YOU HAVEN'T!?"
"i haven't found any time too!"
"how much time have you been spending around jisung these days!? you haven't even tried to bring it up to him!"
you let yourself fall to the side, half your body hanging off your bed. "i don't know how to" you whine, mind immediately rushing to thoughts of park jisung, thoughts you probably shouldn't be having. "it's awkward!"
"well i'm sure jisung feels the same with the way he always has to resist the urge to kiss you in the hallway".
"with the way he WHAT!?"
the words are enough to make you rise from your formerly fallen state, a look of astonishment on your face. did jisung really return your feelings? or was sungchan just trying to start something that would end up absolute humiliation?
"y/n, not trying to be rude or anything, but it's so obvious that jisung wants to date you, he doesn't even have to say it for everyone to know!"
you feel like you just discovered the secrets of the universe with those words, park jisung likes you? like likes you likes you? once the realization dawns on you, you gasp loudly.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!? OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS SUCH AN IDIOT UGH!"
sungchan watches you freak out, he truly can't believe that he had to tell you for all of it to finally set in.
it's actually pretty funny, and he snickers as he watches you go absolutely ballistic.
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"HAVE YOU SEEN Y/N?" JISUNG ASKS the first recognizable person he sees in the hallway. he hasn't seen any seniors anywhere for a while, but that's because the days keep getting warmer, meaning graduation keeps getting closer, most of the seniors only take two classes and then go on to do their extracurriculars, so they don't really have to spend the whole entire day at school, but it's weird today because he usually always sees you, even when he isn't purposefully looking for you (which has become a common thing for him to do, he's just loves the time he can spend with you). he hopes you aren't absent, because today is friday, and if he doesn't tell you his important news now he's going have to wait an extra two days.
"y/n? uh..." the unfamiliar boy pauses for a moment, as if thinking, and jisung is hoping that it isn't the worst, because he really needs you to be here today. "well i'm not sure where he is actually! probably with his other photographers".
"but he's here right?" jisung doesn't care if he comes off as desperate, his only focus is you, you are his main priority, he doesn't care about the impression he's making on others, he can truly only think about you at the moment.
"yeah! i'm just not sure where exactly!"
"okay thank you!"
the guy gives him a strange look, a mix of teasing and giddy, but jisung walks off too fast to see it, he's set on finding you. he doesn't exactly know where he's supposed to go, he's just hoping to somehow spot you and be able to get you alone.
"what are you rushing for?" chenle comes out of nowhere, noticing jisung's urgency and the way he's clearly focused on something specific strikes him as odd, but he already has an idea of what's making jisung so fidgety. "you're gonna confess your love to y/n or something?"
"yes, actually i am chenle, it'd be great if i could find him, though".
maybe it's jisung's surprising honesty, or the way his main priority is you. chenle finds it amusing how quick the switch flipped, but it's also kind of cute. the usual pessimist, mr 'i don't really care about love' park jisung is down bad for a boy, it's adorable. "have you tried the photography room?"
"where do you think i'm heading?"
chenle chuckles at jisung's attitude, simply smiling and pulling his cheek. "alright then! don't forget to tell me how it goes!"
jisung doesn't spare chenle another glance, just turns back around and focuses on the task at hand, finding you and telling you how he feels.
jisung wonders how you'll react, based on what he's seen, it's not completely guaranteed that you'll reject him, it's probably more likely that you return his feelings rather than don't. does that make him horrible? thinking because you've exhibited the traits of someone who has a crush that you have a crush on him?
maybe you don't like him and he's letting it all get to his head, it all just seems too good to be true.
jisung doesn't even have to go all the way to the photography room, because he bumps right into you whilst on his way there, and a small yelp escapes your lips. "oh my god.. sorry!"
jisung cannot contain his excitement, and his nervousness. there is absolutely nothing to be nervous about, this is y/n. kind, understanding, charming y/n, it's not like he's going to scream at you for telling him you like him. it’ll all be fine.
"it's alright" you whisper, shaking your head for a moment. "i was looking for you" you immediately say, not allowing for jisung to speak before you.
jisung's eyes widen. you were looking for him? it makes his brain go haywire, figurative cogs in his head turning. "that's ironic, i was looking for you too".
jisung swears he can see the red coloring on your cheeks, but he doesn't say anything about it.
"i have to tell you something".
the two of you say that sentence in unison, the same amount of anxiety coursing through your veins, the same red hue on your cheeks, the same look of surprise in your eyes. "you can go first" you whisper, picking at your fingers, you aren't exactly sure if you want to hear what he's about to say.
"are you sure? it seems you have something more important to say.."
"it's fine! really, i can just say it after yo—"
"i'm in love with you".
the words strike you like a punch to the gut, a slap to the face. your stomach drops, your face is burning horribly, and your legs feel like they're about to give in. you cannot believe it, you hope you don't pass out, you hope you don't just die right here, that'd be so embarrassing.
park jisung is in love with you. beautiful, talented, model student park jisung who you've never truly known how you felt about is in love with you. you are so happy, giddy, and it disgusts you, but the disgust is quickly replaced by the feeling of joyousness. park jisung is in love with you, he feels the same way.
"jisung, i'm—"
"it's okay if you don't return my feelings i just wanted to tell you!" is that really what he thinks? that you don't love him back? he must be crazy, you've only ever exhibited reciprocal feelings. "i'll be off now!"
"no! don't go!" you grab jisung's wrist before he can walk away. smart move y/n, you're acting so natural right now. "i just, i return your feelings! i just don't know how to explain it, also my hands are very sweaty right now and i feel gross.."
you let go of jisung's wrist and feel your face get unbearably hotter. it's embarrassing, you feel so embarrassed, but it's park jisung, and jisung just stares at you lovingly. you're so cute, how did it take him this long to tell you how he felt?
"you're so cute".
jisung doesn’t even realize he says the words until you give him that look, and your red face just makes him giggle more. "this isn't— that is not fair! i was supposed to confess first!"
"you're the one who told me to go first!"
"i didn't know you were going to tell me you liked me! i prepared a whole sentence for you and everything!"
you whine, covering your red face with your hands. jisung removes your hands from your face, and a small smile graces his pretty features. he's absolutely gorgeous, he has such a pretty smile, you have the sudden urge to tell him about it. "your smile is beautiful".
now it's jisung's turn to become the red faced lovesick fool. "ah, really?" he responds, voice shaky, hands even more shaky, but they're so soft, your mind always reminds you to note that.
you hum in agreement. "it's very pretty, i can't believe more people don't talk about it".
"well you can talk about it, aren't we technically dating now?"
the question makes you pause. you feel like your about to go insane, you're dating park jisung? park jisung is your boyfriend? this is like a dream come true, a dream you thought would stay a dream and only a dream. "dating? dating! yeah yeah!"
your natural act is not natural at all, you are very nervous, so nervous you feel like your about to collapse onto the floor. "there's no need to be so nervous.."
you groan. "says you!"
"alright y/n" jisung lets go of your hands, much to your dismay, because you frown. he takes note, and reaches over to grab your own once again, intertwining your fingers. "we’re dating, you don't have to go red faced every time i compliment you now".
"but it's you, how do i not?"
jisung sighs, leaning forward and pressing a small peck on your lips. oh he is such a stupid little—
"why would you do that!?"
"i'm sorry!" jisung giggles, he was definitely not sorry. "it was an instinct, i had to!"
"you— ugh!"
park jisung can't just not make you nervous, he's such a crazy man.
one that you love, of course.
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"I THINK I LIKE THIS ONE THE MOST.." JISUNG states, admiring the polaroid photos which litter the desk. you hum at his words, rummaging through the box on the counter, you are very much focused on finding that estranged camera taehyun had pointed for you to find. your boyfriend glances up, looking over your shoulder, silently watching as you get frustrated about this stupid camera you couldn't find. "which one?" you inquire, glancing over at him. jisung holds up the polaroid, a picture you'd taken of you and sungchan at the beach when you were nine. a pretty photo, you aren't even sure how you pulled it off. "ah, that is a pretty one" you whisper, and you smile the moment jisung smiles. his smile is so pretty, a cute stretch which is enough to make you smile, even if you feel down.
"what’s with your face?"
"searching for this old camera is pissing me off" you remark, knowing that you have to search for this is just making you even more mad, why do you have to pack the photography room right before graduation? you hate it. "who even left it in here?"
"a former student maybe?"
you close your eyes, sighing. "i need this to be over so much more quickly" you complain, and jisung just laughs at your misery.
"we graduate in a week, y/n, just be patient" the younger pokes your cheek, then he cups your face, trying to make your frown disappear. "an old camera is not the end of the world".
you glance down at jisung's lips, then narrow your eyes. "are you trying to seduce me?" you question, raising an eyebrow.
"no?" jisung responds, adding a small tilt of his head to his words. "do i sound believable?"
"not at all" you say, pushing jisung's hands away and looking back to the box in front of you so you can continue to scour for this camera you have to get for your friend. you continue to search through the box, trying to find this old dslr camera for your friend. "so don't distract me".
"i'm not!" jisung whines, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin onto your shoulder, watching you try to succeed at your mission of finding a camera. "you don't want to give me, your lovely, amazing boyfriend attention?"
you merely roll your eyes at jisung, he's so annoying (in a cute way), you're about to call chenle to drag him away from you, but you also don't want him to let go of you, his arms around your waist make you feel safe, loved, park jisung makes you feel so loved.
"i found it!" you shriek, victory soaring in your voice. "fucking finally".
"okay so can you give me a kiss now?" jisung asks, puckering his lips and leaning closer to you.
he's so desperate, and you are too, it's adorable, park jisung is adorable. "hmm" you pretend to think about it, an inquisitive look making it's way to your face. "nah".
"y/n! that's not fair!" jisung whines, shaking you with his arms that are still around your waist. he frowns, trying to give you his best puppy dog eyes.
you almost give in, but you push him away, taking the camera you'd been searching for. "later, babe".
"you said that this morning!"
you sigh, turning around to stare at the pouting park. the cute pout remains on his face, how can you ever resist him? you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, ruffling his hair. "there, are you happy you big baby?"
"you could do better".
"uh huh, and you could be patient".
jisung frowns once again, but it's not a serious one, just the cute one he likes to do when he pretends to be mad at you. "don't be mad, you know i love you".
jisung does know, he knows that very well. he smiles at you, he's so in love with you, and not even in an embarrassing way, there's nothing embarrassing about this, he feels joyful, a sense of euphoria overtakes him whenever he’s with you.
"i know, i love you too".
and he isn't lying when he says that.
because he truly does.
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Judd smut in Y/n's car? 😈
JUDD SMUT IN Y/N’S CAR !!!
Tags: fem! Reader, porn without plot, well I mean they talk like a little before they fuck, driving under the influence?, okay literally don’t do that pls idk why they did it in this fic, being low key inappropriate in front of kids, more weed smoking 🫶, judd has a HUGE HORSE COCK, he also degrades Y/n quite a bit, also like semi public sex??, it’s literally in a car, and once again very unprotected sex, PLEASE WRAP IT!!
Summary: they fuck in Y/n’s car after Judd got his taken away lmfao
Author’s note: SORRY this took me so long to write for some reason,, I hate school so much oml 😡 I was originally going to finish and post this yesterday but like then I got a bunch of unsolicited dick pics and I got scared and didn’t feel like writing smut anymore 🧍🏻🏃🏻‍♀️ anyways,, I’m back today and I’m fine, just traumatized. I love being a woman fr 💩
Judd smut in Y/n’s car
Word count; 3,9K
(smut under the cut)
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Judd took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling most of it through his nose but having the decency to turn his head slightly and exhaling the rest through the barely opened window. 
He flicked the burned tip out the window as well; cinder falling down and gathering in the cracks of where the window sat in the door. 
“You drive like a fucking grandma— drive faster,” He instructed.
You didn’t turn your head from the road. “I’m actually driving exactly what the speed limit allows. Fuck off. “ You grumbled.
The two of you were on the way back from one of Judd’s deals, which you were almost late to because Judd decided to leave 10 minutes behind schedule, forgetting you had to drive and refused to go too far over the speed limit. The deal itself had been pretty uninteresting; you sat in the car and watched as Judd handed the guy a plastic back and he handed your boyfriend the money. 
He got his car hijacked (parentsjacked) two weeks ago, because he got caught lighting an old building on fire. You were there too, actually, too drunk and stoned to care in the moment; but because Judd could be a pretty good boyfriend at times he covered up for you. 
“Yeah. Whatever. I need at least one of us to have a car.” He said, when you asked him about it. 
Immediately after, you had been prompted to Judd’s personal Uber. Not to mention he had to hide most of his,, not legal substances in the trunk of your car, hence why you were now even more adamant on following traffic rules as to not get pulled over by the cops. 
(Or found out by your mom, who already wasn’t a very big fan of your boyfriend) 
His raccoons had also made themselves at home in your backseat, at the moment the two of you were alone in the car but often there would be a couple of them napping in the back. 
Judd grumbled something in response that you didn’t quite hear, but you retorted; “Shut the fuck up. Why can’t you just act like a passenger princess, or something,” 
He opened and closed his mouth, cigarette hanging on his lips. “What the fuck did you just call me?” 
You smiled a little. “That’s what you are, babe. You’re my passenger princess,” 
Blinking slowly, he put the cigarette out in the ashtray he had placed between the front seats and stared at you blankly. “What the hell are you talking about? You think I look like a princess?” He was baffled. 
You suppressed a chuckle, and turned your head quickly to gauge his reaction. “I forgot you’re too edgy to use tiktok,” You murmured. When you opened it on your phone, he would sometimes stand behind you and glare at the screen over your shoulder, but that was all the exposure he’d had to the app. 
Judd frowned. “Why don’t you pull over and I’ll show you who the real fucking princess is.” It was half a threat, but none that you took too seriously. 
“Oh, yeah? You’d have to pay extra for that, Uber drivers don’t normally fuck their costumers.” You answered coyly, but he didn’t find your quip nearly as funny as you did. You turned back to the road, making sure you weren’t about to run into any middle schoolers as you neared Bridgeton Middle School. Judd didn’t say anything– but you felt his large hand slither up your leg, enclosing around your thigh and squeezing the fat there softly. 
He looked out the window to his side, refusing to grant you attention while he continued to massage your thigh; and glaring as you pulled into the parking lot. Judd had convinced you to skip school that day, so you could drive him to his stupid deal and you could smoke and get McDonald’s after. The first part of his plan went without a hitch, until you got incredibly high-horny and you ended up fucking in the bathroom at McDonald’s as well. Unfortunately, you had to leave sooner than intended; in a daze and desperate to sober up before you went and picked Jessi up from school. Coincidentally Nick as well, since, you know, Judd's parents took his car. 
You parked and turned to Judd, crawling half over to his seat and forcing him to look at you. His glare lessened as he stared at your grinning face so close to his; leaning in. You kissed him softly once, then twice, then three times, giggling and pulling away whenever he chased you. He growled and the hand on your thigh went to your waist, he pulled you in and was just about to kiss you properly, forcefully and roughly when a series of knocks came to your window. 
It was Jessi and Nick. You averted your head and let Judd kiss your cheek instead, gently pushing him back as you sat back down in your seat. You motioned for the two to come in.
Jessi opened the door, and allowed Nick to crawl inside first. “It smells like weed and junkfood in here.” She commented, a slight question in her statement as she crawled in, too, and closed the door behind her. 
You turned your body halfway in your seat, coming to face her. “Sure.” You ignored her comment. “Had a good day at school?” 
Both her and Nick nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Can you help me with some maths-stuff later?” She asked and you wrinkled your nose; Maths was not something you were particularly good at, but you nodded and agreed to help her anyways.
Judd’s hand returned to your thigh and you glanced at him– he was staring blankly at the kids, but he met your eyes with raised eyebrows, indicating he wanted something from you. You hummed. “Hey, Jessi, how about hanging out at Nick’s house for a while?” You looked to Nick, who flushed slightly and nodded in agreement. 
Jessi’s mouth tightened as she looked at Nick, and then you. She new that when you asked her that, you really meant; “Hey, Jessi, it would be more convenient for me to drive straight to Judd’s house so we can fuck.”
“C’mon Jessi, we can watch a movie or something,” Nick added hopefully. You smiled, a bit tightly as you looked at Jessi and she reluctantly uncrossed her arms and agreed. “Okay, fine. But can we do that stupid biology assignment together then, instead?” 
Nick agreed happily, and the two quickly got a rather animated conversation started. You drove out of the parking lot, Judd’s hand increasing in height on your thigh till he was toying with the hem of your skirt. You flushed, gently pushing his hand down a couple times so Jessi and Nick wouldn’t see, but it ultimately was a losing battle. 
The two’s conversation turned to background noise as you drove towards your destination, as fast as you could; now way faster than the speed limit allowed. Judd’s incessant caress of your thigh made your heart beat so much faster and your finger’s grip the steering wheel so much tighter— you could feel him staring hungrily at you the whole time too, seizing you up with that small twitch of his lips that meant he was going to fuck you till your legs were jelly. 
‘Step on that goddamn speeder, sugar! Look how he’s eyeing you.. like a big, hungry wolf,’ Connie’s claws locked around the back of your seat, and she moaned when his nails slightly scratched at your fishnets; lifting them and making them slap against your thigh. 
You gasped, and sent him a glare that bordered on a sultry pout. “I can’t,” you muttered to Connie. “I’ll actually run someone over if I go any faster,” 
Your monstress shook the seat harder. ‘They won’t mind giving up their life for some sweet, sweet lovemaking baby~’  She purred and you glanced at her briefly, with a scandalised expression. 
“I really don’t think you should be saying stuff like that,” You retorted, focused on evening out your breathing from the slow teasing of Judd’s warm hand. Then he leaned in, squeezing your thigh in a death grip and placed a long, slow kiss under your jaw 
“You changed your mind about fucking your Uber costumer yet?” He drawled, deep voice dragging a whispering growl all the way up your spine.
You shivered. “I think I have,” you breathed back and felt him smile triumphantly against your neck. 
He cackled darkly. “Good. You better drop the fucking attitude,” Then, he snapped your fishnets again, watching as thin, red lines appeared on your thigh.
Connie moaned loudly again, fanning her hands in front of her face before dramatically laying down on the floor of the car, between the front and back seats. 
“Ew. Can you two not?” That time it was Nick speaking, arms crossed over his chest.
Jessi nodded in agreement; her gaze was locked on where Judd was touching your thigh, burning into you. Your boyfriend in question slowly retreated his hand, half turning in his seat to glare dissatisfied at your two passengers. 
Nick shifted uncomfortably and whatever insult he had died on his tongue. “What? Are you fucking jealous or something?” He sneered.
The younger shrugged and looked away. “No.” 
Judd grunted, gravely and deeply. “It’s not my fault you can’t get your little prick wet,” He wiggled his pinky finger for emphasis. 
You failed to hold back a giggle and gently slapped his arm. “Don’t tell thirteen-year-olds to have sex, you ass,” You scolded, halfheartedly through and smiled as you came to a stop in front of the birch house. 
“Okay, get out you two!” You called over your shoulder. “We’ll be right in— I’m just gonna park.” You bluffed, and didn’t miss the way Jessi rolled her eyes at you as she slammed the car door behind her.
Connie rose from the floor to sit in the middle seat in the back. ‘Yeah, park Judd’s dick right in your pussy!’ She drawled, making obscene gestures with her hands. 
Judd was quick to point you to a nearby parking spot, concealed a bit by a willow tree with low-hanging branches. As soon as you were parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt and Judd was reaching for you.
He pulled you to him by your waist— settling you down over his lap, straddling him. You whimpered as you felt him against you, already straining in his pants. He grabbed greedy handfuls of your ass with one hand, having the other settle on the back of your neck and pulling your hair. He held your head in an iron grip, making sure you wouldn’t avoid his kiss this time around.
Then, he kissed you. Roughly, deeply, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly. You mewled as he bit your lower lip, arms wrapped around his neck and fingers gently pulling on the short hairs at the back of his head. 
You were already moving your hips, without thinking about it and he wasted no time in aiding you; thrusting upwards while holding your hips down and helping you rock back and forth. 
You were already quite sensitive from your earlier rough fuck in the McDonald’s bathroom, your clit swelled and started twitching almost instantly. The rough drag of denim on your panties was almost too much, but the sloshing of warmth in your lower belly kept you going— rutting yourself harder against him. 
He moved from your lips, you let out a soft, whiny sigh. “You wanted it that bad, huh? You’re already so fuck-drunk,” He commented, that wicked smile pulling at his lips. He squeezed your asscheek hard. “Up.” He instructed, and shakily, you lifted yourself up to stand on your knees instead of sitting on him. 
You held his shoulders for support, definitely not expecting him to bring both his hands under your skirt and roughly ripping your fishnets apart right under your pussy. He let them rip all the way down your thighs and you looked at him wide-eyed. 
“I’ll get you new ones, baby.” He grinned, a bit coyly as he pushed your panties aside. His cold fingers gently brushed your folds and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about your ruined tights. Your breathing hitched and you desperately bucked your hips, trying to get him to touch you further. 
His other hand returned to your hip, to hold it in place and keep you from rutting yourself against his fingers. He gave a warning growl, brows drawing together as he concentrated on the task at hand. He teased your folds apart with his pointer, feeling how warm and wet you already were. You were pulsing, almost, starting to clench before his fingers even entered. 
“Judd—“ You moaned. “Do— do something.” You pleaded with him. 
Connie was going crazy behind you as well, both her and Maury were sitting in the backseat contributing to an animated conversation. Your monstress shook Maury by the shoulders, yelling at him to get Judd to do anything. 
‘C’mon! Fist her already!’ Maury roared, kicking the seat you and Judd were sitting on. 
Your boyfriend inhaled sharply, pressing his thumb to your swollen bud— forcing a breathy, drawn out whine out of you. He retaliated by pressing down harder, slowly moving his thumb in a circle that had you desperately bucking into his hand. 
He could feel your warmth leaking, wetness gathering and threatening to fall before he finally, finally gave in and shoved a finger into you. He looked at you, drinking in your expression as he burrowed one, long finger into your cunt.
Connie cheered and you cried out Judd’s name. He made a ‘come hither’ motion, slightly scratching deep within your walls right where you needed him. He chuckled, darkly as you clenched around his finger. 
“Want one more?” He asked— pressing down on your clit deliberately right as you were about to answer. 
You nodded your head, burying your face in his shoulder. “Mhm! Judd— please!” You wiggled your hips in emphasis. 
“Good girl.” He praised you, adding a second finger as promised. He pumped them for a little while, relishing in the moans you tried to conceal in his neck and grunting at the occasional bites you left. 
Then, he suddenly stopped moving, but not withdrawing his fingers. You whined pathetically in protest. “Relax, slut.” He said. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,” 
You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately you were bouncing up and down on his hand; trying to bring them as far into your pussy as possible. You clawed at Judd’s shirt, pulling the neckline down so you could properly bite him and conceal most of your whiny moans. 
He groaned, ripping his head back and allowing you more access to ravage his neck. You could feel yourself dripping, warm liquid gathering in Judd’s palm and running down his forearm. He pressed your clit harder, feeling your cunt clench tightly around his fingers— his cock ached at the thought of feeling your little pussy around him again. 
The car filled with loud squelching sounds, every time you rose and fell back on his fingers. Your pace fastened in time with Judd’s assault on your clit and you cried out; “Please—please, more! Judd, please!” 
“Yeah?” He drawled and you lifted your head from his neck slightly to nod your head. Then, he curled his fingers and touched a spot that had you seeing stars. You cried out, loudly, as his fingers began thrusting into you violently. Along with your combined forces, you moving your hips frantically and him rolling your clit with his thumb and scissoring his long fingers inside your pussy, you reached the edge quickly.
Judd sneered. “You gonna cum?” He knew the answer already, could feel it in the way your little pussy throbbed and clenched around his fingers. 
Your thighs burned from your rapid movement, shaking as liquid flames consumed your belly. “S’good, s’good— yes,” you breathed, clawing at Judd’s chest. 
He bend his fingers inside you again, breathing into your ear in his nice, deep voice. “Come on my fingers, pretty girl. C’mon.” 
Again, you definitely did not need to be told twice. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you fell apart with a loud cry of your boyfriends name. He continued finger fucking you through your orgasm, until you were even puffier and so sensitive that you were shying away from his hands. 
He grinned gleefully. “Good fucking girl,” he praised you, rubbing your clit in slow circles again, before finally pulling out and allowing you to rest on his knees. 
You sat, feeling your own wetness drip underneath you as you tried to catch your breath— Judd however, wasted no time, unbuckling his pants and pulling his fat cock out. 
You swallowed at the sight, how fucking hard he was and your pussy clenched again— as if it wasn’t already sore and abused. Subconsciously, you rutted your hips a bit forward, grinding on his knee as you watched him stroke himself. He hissed, hand tightly fisting the base of his cock and making its way to his leaking head; you timed your movements with his stroking. 
“C’mere.” He grunted, hands leaving his swollen cock in favour of grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him. 
On instinct, you reached forwards and grabbed his dick, standing on your knees again so you could sink down on him. You only managed to get the head in, before one of his large hands wrapped around your wrists; stopping you. 
“You take what I give you, slut. Pull shit like that again and I’ll have you on your knees instead, got it?” He growled, his other hand restraining your hip in a death grip that was sure to leave marks on your after— long, purple finger prints.
Though the thought of sucking him off wasn’t terrible, your pussy ached so pathetically and you knew the only thing that would satisfy you was Judd’s cock rearranging your guts. So you whined, but nodded and let him guide you back. 
He leaned the seat back a little, Maury yelped and moved away from his place behind you to make space as Judd leaned back. He lifted his hips up, emphasising what he wanted from you. 
You reached out a shaky hand, closing it around his base and moving up and down just like he had before. He groaned, teeth clenching as you smeared his pre-cum from top to bottom, massaging him to the best of your ability. Still, you couldn’t ignore the harsh clenching of your hole as he kept you empty. You slowly started grinding against his thigh again, hoping he’d let you. 
“Judd..” You sniffled, eyes close to filling with tears. “I need your cock inside me, please.” 
You could almost feel Judd’s dick hardened in your grip, and he growled and sat up a little straighter. “Jeez. You whine like a bitch in heat,” He commented, rather smugly.
He beckoned you with his fingers again, and you raised yourself right over his cock but waited to sit down. Judd hummed in approval, guiding his cock with one hand and you with the other, till the head was making its way inside you. 
You sighed, relieved, trying to relax your throbbing pussy so Judd could fit. He groaned. “You’re so.. fucking tight, relax.” He said, as he forced his way further inside you.
When he finally bottomed out, you moaned, loudly. He didn’t move right away, so again you took matters into your own hands and started softly rocking your hips. 
He grabbed your hand, placing it over your belly to feel the bulge his cock had created inside you. “Feel that, baby? You’re so full, aren’t you?” 
You barely registered the question, burying your face in his neck again to hide the way your whole expression screwed up in pleasure. “Mhm.. s’big, s’full.” You slurred.
Then, Judd started moving, bouncing you in his lap like a cocksleeve while you wailed into his shoulder. The stretch was almost unbearable, you felt him bruising your cervix each time he moved— the fit was so snug you could feel every ridge and vain on him. 
He lost himself in the feeling of your warm, soft pussy, having tuned Maury out a long time ago he fucked you mercilessly, entirely focused on reaching his own end. He lifted his hips off the seat to pound into you from below— you could feel him in your belly, your clit scraping over his lower stomach every time he moved. 
It was too much— you were already close to reaching your end, clenching so tightly around Judd that he cursed and could barely move. 
“Feel good, you little slut?” He grunted, blunt nails digging into your sides. 
You nodded desperately. “Good.” He said. “Then cum for me again, you’re so close, right? I can feel your little pussy clenching around my dick so tightly, god, you’re such a fucking whore.” 
You kinda wanted to say something back, but with his rough thrusts and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head and crossed; you couldn’t really deny him. 
The air in the car felt electric as you came for a second time, bursting and feeling a flush of warm liquid spill from you and cover Judd’s cock. He groaned as you creamed, warm little hole sucking him in and fighting to keep him there. His breathing went erratic, and he bounced you harder, faster, to chase his own orgasm.
“Fuck! Shit, you’re so tight,” He growled through clenched teeth, fucking you so hard the car shook and he was sure to leave bruises. Your legs had gone numb by the time he took your hand again, placing it back on your belly right in time with his release.
His cock throbbed and he came. Hard. Thick ropes of warm cum filled you, stuffing you so full you could feel your belly swell even further under yours and Judd’s combined hands.
He leaned in and bit down on your neck, keeping his own noises as quiet as possible but making sure to leave your neck swollen and blue. You moaned softly as he bit you, not having the energy to shy away from the borderline painful overstimulation. 
When he came down, you collapsed into his chest— breathing heavily. You sat like that for a while, the car’s windows had been fogged up and the only thing you could hear were your combined breathing. 
‘Atta girl!’ Connie slithered around you, patting you on the head. You just mumbled incoherently in response, still too sex drunk to function. 
Maury did the same, ruffling Judd’s hair as he leaned his head back against the seat and praising him— all of which Judd ignored. 
“You’ll have to carry me back.” You muttered, after a long while.
Judd chuckled hoarsely, moving you a bit to pull out of you and tug himself back in his jeans. “Fuck no.” 
You slapped his chest, gently, and pulled yourself up to look at him directly. “I can’t feel my legs.” 
“Then I did a good fucking job.” He snarked, leaning in and kissing your temple. 
Well. It wasn’t like the two of you needed to be somewhere, relaxing in your car for a bit actually did seem like a pretty good option— and so that’s what you did.
God,, why am I horny for a fucking cartoon character wth 💀✋
Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)
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ofsappho · 10 months
Text
Summertime Sadness (part 2)
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader
Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort
Ten years ago: the first time you met Simon
Today: the first time Ghost meets you
Tags: mental illness, therapeutic boarding school, self harm, suicide attempt/suicidality, self harm, abuse, parental abandonment, much the same as last chapter. This fic is unedited because I don’t feel like editing it lol. If you see spelling/grammar issues, no you didn’t.
TEN YEARS AGO
Reader POV
-
It’s intake day.
Intake day happens once a week, always on Wednesday.
You don’t know why they pick Wednesday. It seems pretty arbitrary, doesn’t it?
On intake day, the nurses and counselors make all the current residents of the inpatient program line up to greet the newbies. You actually look forward to intake day. Everyone here is so boring and routine; your roommate never speaks unless spoken to and she always keeps her earbuds in. On intake day, the hope that someone nice will be admitted survives for the few hours of the intake itself.
It usually dies right after. There was one polite girl who smiled when you waved last week, but she was transferred to a different facility that night before you could learn her name.
You’ve been here for three weeks, so that’s three intake days.
You’re not sure why you’ve been here so long. It seems a little excessive; you’d think by now they’d realize your stuff isn’t so bad and maybe you could transition to outpatient appointments?
It’s a little dissociation and some minor depression. Not bad at all.
But your doctors agree, albeit gently, that you should stay for the full five month course.
The program isn’t so bad. The facility sits on a sprawling multi-acre property in the British countryside, where everything is beautiful and verdant and always chilly. It’s lovely. The tea is good. You’re getting used to how they take it here. It’s nothing like the sweet tea you drink back home.
You suppose that’s another reason why they won’t let you go home even though you’re okay; there isn’t a home to go back to. Your dad hasn’t looked you in the eye since Mom left. At least the orderlies here greet you in the morning.
(What Dad doesn’t know is that before she left, she told you she loved you and to wait for her. Soon, she’ll take you away from this place and you’ll never have to see your dad again.)
Before you head to the foyer, you check your hair in the mirror of your room’s suicide-proofed bathroom. A young teenage face stares back at you with cheeks flushed red from the sun. You trace your deep smile lines with the tip of your finger, then practice smiling. You would have feel better about moving to a therapeutic boarding school if you’d been greeted with a smile.
At first, you think the newest crop of poor souls will be uninteresting at best. Listless rich kids detoxing off Mommy’s coke, frightened preteens who’ve never been away from their parents for an extended period of time, and a few teenagers straight from an ER, IV bags and all.
And then you see him get off the bus last.
He’s tall, towering over everyone else. A lanky, almost skeletal build, with a bored, aloof expression on his face. He hides the Zippo lighter he was playing with in his sleeve before the nurses catch and confiscate it.
There’s something horrifically severe about him. He can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, but he carries himself like he’s a blade and the world is filled with monsters.
His eyes are large and dark, rich brown irises rimmed with pale blonde eyelashes. And they’re kind, even though he would probably hate having that pointed out.
You decide then and there that you’ll befriend him. He could use a friend; everyone here does. He’s beautiful in his sharpness and elegant in his abrasiveness. Maybe you can coax more of that hidden kindness out, show him that it’s worth more than his anger. You wouldn’t be able to stay away if you tried.
You both like playing with fire, though you prefer less literal ones.
-
TODAY
Ghost POV
-
Your smile fades swiftly as if it was never there to begin with.
There are two ghosts in this room. That’s what you are; a ghost of the girl he knew.
He watches and waits for you to shift uncomfortably and start blabbering to fill the silence like you used to. “Why’d you make them call me?” Ghost asks when it’s clear that you won’t.
As soon as you explain, he’s out of here. Ghost meant it when he said he never wanted to see you again.
You’re the last living reminder of the past he’s tried so hard to kill. The beeping sounds of your heart monitor spell out his mistakes in a grating, irritating rhythm.
Your answer disappoints his expectations. “I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Ghost doesn’t hear any wistfulness or longing in your voice, anything that would tell him that you’re clinging on to the boy you thought he was. Only a bone-dry and hollow statement of facts.
“What do you want?”
You ignore his question. At fifteen, you were good at that. At twenty-five, you’re better. “You got any cigarettes I could bum? You look like you still smoke them,” You say as you fiddle with your torn, bleeding nail beds with the classic anxiety of nicotine withdrawal.
He does that too when a mission stretches too long without a resupply and he finishes his cigarettes early to stave off hunger.
Ghost remembers fighting with you over the pack of smokes he smuggled into the program. He would hold it way above your head and laugh as you struggled to reach them. But you never gave up - they were bad for him, and you liked him too much to see him die of lung cancer.
He remembers the determination in your eyes and your unwavering faith that he could be saved.
“They’re bad for you,” Ghost echoes.
If you remember that moment, you don’t show it. “You know what else is fucking bad for you?” Your tone is so acerbic that it gives him whiplash.
He can’t resist taking a shot. “What, being a prick?” You just… bring out the worst in him. You make him feel as unhinged and unmoored as he was when you first met.
You roll your bloodshot eyes.
“I wasn’t going to call you out on that. I was going to say benzos and vodka. Also throwing yourself headfirst off a bridge.”
“Oh.”
What is he supposed to say to that?
“Why did you come?” You ask after a long moment of quiet interspersed by that fucking heart monitor.
Ghost grinds his teeth into each other as he reflects. He hates doing that; the inside of his skull is a bad place. “…I don’t know,” He admits. Coming here was a mistake; Ghost understands that now.
The foul taste on the back of his tongue is guilt. But why? You did this to yourself. You brought him here to play games and fuck him up, so why is he the one who feels… bad?
You sigh. “Simon-“
“Ghost. It’s Ghost now,” He cuts you off with more violence than necessary.
Your mouth settles into a tight, pained line. “Ghost. Go away.”
“But you called me here.”
That provokes a reaction.
Ghost sees it and immediately wishes it hadn’t.
You stare him straight in the eye, your dilated pupils peel back his mask and see the face underneath. Your skin is tinged gray and your bottom lip blooms red with blood from where you’ve bitten through it.
He wants back the child sobbing for his forgiveness on her knees, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.
“And it was a mistake, and I should never have done it, and I just wanted the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t going to pick up the phone. That I was truly alone.”
So the memory of him is a knife you’re using on yourself. Fucking disturbing.
“Oh.”
You raise an eyebrow as you wave. “Bye.”
Right.
That’s it.
Though your dismissal rankles, Ghost does as you ordered and takes his leave of you.
His work phone vibrates a few times.
Only one person calls that it. “Captain,” Ghost greets.
Captain Price clears his throat on the other side of the line. “Lieutenant. When can we expect you back?”
‘Tomorrow’ is on the tip of Ghost’s tongue.
He’s never taken a day off in his career, which means he’s got at least a year or two in built up vacation time. “I’ll be gone for a while longer, sir. Not sure yet how long,” Ghost answers promptly.
It’s only for a few more days, a week at most. Long enough to make sure you won’t try to kill yourself again, long enough for the guilt freezing his blood and choking his lungs to fade.
“Alright, Lieutenant. Keep us posted.”
“Yes, sir.”
TAGGING: @devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner
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spectersgirl · 7 months
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Hi! I saw your requests were open and was wondering if I could request a fic? I had this idea of Harvey x wife!reader where they think they are the last ones there for the night and put on one of his records and start slow dancing. Maybe only to find out Mike is still there too? Thanks! ♥️
This request physically hurt to read because it's so damn sweet 😭ily for that.
Wonderful Tonight
Harvey Specter x Reader
It was getting late and both you and Harvey were still at the office. Everyone else had long gone home, the halls now still and quiet, but Harvey had been swamped all week and you generally preferred to head home whenever he did, so you found yourself tying up some loose ends on your own cases.
You finally looked down at the clock on your computer and decided it was time to attempt to drag Harvey home to spend at least a little quality time with you before you both passed out for the night. Gathering your things and switching off your desk lamp, you walked down the hallway toward his office. The closer you got, you were able to pick up on the record he had playing on his record player. You smiled softly to yourself as you went, finally reaching his door. He was standing with his back to you, facing out the large picture window and looking down at the city.
Quietly, you set your bag and coat down on the ground and walked over behind him, wrapping your arms around him and resting your chin on his shoulder. He smiled at your touch and turned in your arms, immediately leaning down to kiss you.
"Hi love," he said softly. "I was just thinking about coming to get you."
"Looks like I beat you to it," you said with a smirk, letting him go and sitting on his couch. "Did this thought have anything to do with the song you're playing?"
Harvey smiled wider, he hadn't noticed what song it was until now. "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton played through his speaker, the song you had shared your first dance as a married couple to.
"It didn't, but now that you're here, and our first dance song is on..." He stood with an arm outstretched, waiting for you to take his hand.
You smiled and obliged his request, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his around your waist. You slow-danced around his office, thoughts of the stressful week melting away as he dipped and twirled you around and around, just as he had the night of your wedding.
The song came to a close, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face.
"Just as beautiful as the day we got married." Harvey whispered, leaning down to kiss you softly once again.
Neither of you noticed Mike standing in Harvey's doorframe, at least not until he could no longer help himself.
"Wow Harvey, you are literally never allowed to call me a softy ever again. That was the sweetest shit I've ever seen!" He exclaimed, amusement written all over his face.
"Mike, don't you have somewhere to be? Like perhaps at home with your girlfriend?" Harvey asked, pretending to be annoyed.
Truthfully, he didn't mind that Mike had seen his soft side, not really at least. Harvey was proud of the man he had become since meeting you, he'd told you this many times. Of course, he was still the great and powerful Harvey Specter when it came to working a case, but he didn't mind this side of himself so much as he used to.
"If you must know, I went home to my beautiful girlfriend hours ago but I came back to pick up a few things I forgot. I'll let you guys get back to that, but Harvey, please let your wife go home sometime soon instead of keeping her trapped in your office." Mike said with a smirk and a wink, leaving the two of you alone once again.
"Yeah Harvey, let your wife go home soon" you repeated, poking his chest. He smiled in response and walked to his desk, powering off his laptop and gathering a few items.
"Alright baby, let's go home."
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theharddeck · 1 year
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talk with my hands, maybe take it real slow (jake seresin x fem!reader)
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Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (no y/n)
Synopsis: Jake's roommate has a new tattoo and can't stop itching at it...what kind of friend would he be, if he didn't help distract her?
Warnings: this fic is 18+, minors please DNI – we go pretty quickly into smut, featuring the usual--explicit oral sex (both receiving, bc we're feminists like that), and then also PiV sex, including but not limited to, condescension, overstimulation (bc what's the point of fiction if we're not wringing multiple orgasms out of our self insert?) and creampies (do not have unprotected, unnegotiated sex pls)
Length: 7.8k
A/N: sorry about the moodboard being lacluster; I couldn't find a tattoo pic that wasn't on a size 0 thigh or white, so we went without
You hadn’t considered yourself to be a person with particularly awful self control, but then again, you’d never had a tattoo healing on your inner thigh, driving you mad with the need to scratch at it. It’d been 3 weeks since the appointment and your ink was probably 95% healed; the redness had faded entirely and a couple raised patches of roughness were all you had to show for the fact that it was new. Which somehow made the incessant need to itch all the more frustrating, because you were pretty sure it was mostly phantom at this point. 
“Listen, honey, you gotta chill.” Jake’s voice interrupted your inner monologue, from his seat on the couch across the living room. 
Your roommate had started in hard on the Southern pet names when he’d seen that they’d flustered you. Honestly, there was precious little the man wouldn’t do, if it meant making you unnerved. You two didn’t have what you’d call a friendship, but the playful Something between the two of you felt safe and fun. Even if it did mean that Jake seemed to take a little more pleasure than he should’ve, in the face of your pain.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you replied drily, “are the literal thousands of abrasions on my skin irritating you?”
Jake rolled his eyes at your melodrama. “I can feel you thinking from over here, and it’s taking up real estate that belongs to Maya Hawke,” he gestured to the TV where the latest season of Stranger Things was playing.  
“It itches,” you mumbled, hearing the complaint in your voice and knowing it was pathetic, but too over it to care. 
Jake cut you a long look, like he also heard it, and was embarrassed for you. “Want me to get you some ice?” he asked, and it was sweet of him to offer, but…
“We’re out of ice,” you sighed. “I went through the last two trays in, like, record time, and they’re refreezing now.”
“We have like fourteen trays,” Jake frowned.
“Yeah, well someone,” you paused meaningfully, “drastically depleted our resources when he decided to have a bourbon tasting over the weekend.”
Jake had the grace to look guilty for a  moment. Then it was his turn to sigh dramatically, lifting his arm to the back of the couch and swatting at the cushion next to him. “Alright, kid, c’mere.”
In retrospect, you probably should’ve asked why, or at least deliberated for half a second before doing what he asked. In reality, you pushed off the settee you’d been lounging on, and flopped ungracefully onto the couch next to Jake. You shared a bathroom with the man and he’d seen you on the second day of your period; dignity was a distant memory. 
Still, it didn’t prepare you for Jake pulling your legs apart with one of his large hands, and spreading his fingers over your tattoo, all while calmly turning up the volume of the TV with the remote in his other hand. 
“Jesus, Jake,” you choked out, telling yourself the goosebumps erupting over your whole body were entirely because of your surprise, and not any other reason. “Buy a girl a drink first.”
Jake chuckled, somehow managing to shake his head at you while not looking away from the TV. “You’re the one who’s always telling me my hands are cold as ice.”
Had you said that?
It sounded like something you’d say.
But Jake’s hand on your leg felt anything but cold. Okay, no, if you separated your brain from—well, from anything—you could recognize that his fingers were quite cold, and it was incredibly soothing having them over you. His thumb was brushing lightly over your skin, while the rest of his hand stayed still, and you knew that ice cubes couldn’t do that, but damn, it would’ve been great if they could. You settled back into the couch, relaxing into the soft material and the relief brought by Jake’s hands.
It was a wonderful two minutes. 
Good to know that that was how long it took for the fourth law of thermodynamics to kick in, and for Jake’s fingers to warm up after extended contact with your skin.  
Then a new problem was presented—you couldn’t scratch at yourself without scratching him. You shifted slightly, to see if you could get any type of friction, but Jake’s touch was light enough that he moved with you. You snuck a glance at Jake’s profile, still fixed on the TV screen, and his expression could best be described as incredibly pleased with himself.
“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” you muttered accusingly.  
“Absolutely,” he said, smugly. “You could fidget up a storm over there, but here you have to just deal with it.”
You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from sticking your tongue out at him petulantly. You folded your hands in your lap, determined to ignore the rising propensity to scratch at yourself. At some point, you’d sunken into the couch until your shoulder was pressed against Jake’s arm, and you shifted so your cheek was resting against him too. His tshirt was soft, and he smelled clean, like a freaking linen candle, which was annoying, because it didn’t help clear the riotous tangle of thoughts rushing through your head.
You did stop fidgeting, though.
“Atta girl,” Jake said quietly, his thumb still moving over your thigh.
Was it hot in here?
It had to be hot in here.
Because this was Jake, your roommate, who’d never shown an ounce of interest in you, being calm as anything with his hand literally on your thigh, and saying things that would’ve sounded like come ons from anyone else.
You tried to focus on the TV, and whatever ridiculous shenanigans the children on it had found themselves in, pulling a deep breath through your nose.
(Immediate mistake, because of said linen candle bullshit). 
On the TV, Nancy’s hair got frizzier, Steve’s life got shittier, and all the while your leg was getting itchier and itchier.
You reached to press a hand over the skin distractedly, forgetting momentarily that Jake’s hand was there until you encountered his fingers instead of your skin. He turned his hand over, his knuckles pressing against your skin while his fingers intercepted your own.
“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice lightly mocking, and you wrinkled your nose. It wasn’t fair that he wasn’t affected, his hands so close to your burning skin, and he still had the wherewithal to tease you for your poor impulse control.
“Jake,” you whined, trying to untangle your fingers, but his grip was unrelenting, “I’m not gonna scratch, okay, I just need to do something.”
He looked down at you, which you had to admit, was a hell of an experience when your head was practically on his shoulder. 
He blinked slowly, looking at you closely before he opened his hands, letting your fingers go. You pulled your hand back, eyes closing in relief when you pressed them against your skin. It wasn’t as good as scratching, but the pressure helped, and you shifted your fingers—and your nail accidentally dragged against your skin. 
Which was pretty much the worst thing that could happen, because it was like a tease and it shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, but you were half a second away from clawing up your thigh when Jake’s hand closed around your wrist again. 
“Seriously?” he asked, amusement coloring his tone. 
“Just let me,” you pleaded, trying to pull your wrist back. “It’ll take like two seconds and then it’ll hurt and I can stop.”
“You could also get infected or mess up the ink placement,” he said, and you stopped pulling for a moment.
“When did you learn so much about tattoo care?” you grumbled, and Jake chuckled again. It sounded different this close to him, deeper. 
“When my roommate decided to mark up the inside of her leg,” he replied easily. “Now don’t you have a lotion or something you can put on this?”
“I do, but it doesn’t help,” you said, annoyed that he was right. 
“Well, let’s at least try it, yeah?” Jake asked, and you rolled your neck, sighing. 
“Fine,” you pushed yourself off the couch. 
You felt Jake’s eyes following you to the bathroom, so you didn’t scratch at your leg, not wanting to hear more of his teasing. You found the jar of lotion, dropping back onto the couch as you unscrewed the lid. 
“It’s just gonna be sticky and leave white marks on the couch,” you groused, looking confusedly over at Jake when he held his hand out. “What?”
“What do you mean, what,” he retorted, like it was obvious. “I’m not gonna let you do this; you have zero impulse control.”
You were too stunned to resist when he plucked the lotion out of your hands, dipping his fingers into the jar. 
Had you said that the worst thing was an accidental nail brush against your tattoo?
That wasn’t true. 
Because the actual worst thing was having to sit there, pretending everything was fine and normal, as your ridiculously hot roommate started spreading Aquaphor on your inner thigh. 
Jake was nothing if not thorough, his long fingers smoothing the cool lotion over your skin, pressing slowly into you and fucking kneading into your thighs, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that he was entirely serious. Gone was the teasing condescension, the knowing look, and in its place was an unfamiliar gentleness. 
Jake’s head was bent, some of his perfect hair falling in front of his eyes, as he properly tended to your leg like he was a nurse and these were doctor’s orders. Like he wanted to be absolutely careful as he looked after you, like looking after you was even something he did. You swallowed, forcing your breathing to remain even. 
This was fine, this was normal. 
This was absolutely not complicating the tenuous relationship the two of you had, and wasn’t causing you to read into the pet names, the caring, the fact that his big hand was literally between your legs. 
He had to stop, or you had to stop, because now was not the time to be thinking risque things about your roommate, not when he was genuinely being sweet and trying to help.
“I think that’s good,” you said, hoping Jake couldn’t hear the tremor in your voice. 
Jake tipped his head to the side, considering his work, then nodded to himself, satisfied. He rubbed his hands together, wiping the excess lotion on the backs of his knuckles, and screwed the lid of the jar back on. You were readjusting on the couch when he leaned across you to leave the jar on the coffee table and when he shifted back, one of you messed up, because his forearm brushed against your chest. 
“Uh, sorry,” Jake said quickly, “I wasn’t—”
He was interrupted, of course.
Because you could tell yourself you were fine, everything was fine, all day long, but turns out that the slightest, accidental brush of Jake against your breasts had an ungodly whimper spilling out of your mouth before you could stop it. 
He froze. 
Shit. 
“Shit,” you said aloud, hands covering your face in embarrassment, “no, I’m sorry, that wasn’t—uh, we can ignore that—I don’t know what’s going on with me, sorry to make it weird, it’s not your fault—”
You stopped babbling when Jake’s hands closed on your wrists, and, for the upteenth time that night, you let yourself be guided by him. When he pulled your hands away, your breath caught at how close he was, and the unfamiliar expression on his face as he looked between your eyes. 
“I need to know right now,” he said, his voice serious as anything, “if you’re apologizing because you’re embarrassed, or because you didn’t mean it.”
You pressed your lips together, not trusting what sounds would come out of your mouth with Jake’s hands holding your wrists, and his eyes this intense. Whatever he read on your face had Jake’s lips parting, a shaking breath drawn in through them, before they thinned in a lazy smile. 
“And here I thought I was the perv, taking any excuse to get my hands on you, darlin’, when you’ve been wanting me just as bad.”
Your jaw dropped at his blunt words, but what, were you going to say he was wrong? 
Jake’s head cocked sideways when you didn’t say anything, and he guided your hands to the back of his neck, before letting go of them. Your fingers wound around his neck, the ends of his hair brushing your thumbs, and you realized he was waiting for you to say something before this—whatever ‘this’ was—went any further.
“Probably worse,” you admitted, not even trying to hide the breathlessness in your voice, “if I’m honest.”
Jake’s eyes darkened and his grin grew wider. “If that’s how honest sounds, I think I want to hear more of it,” he said.
Fuck, he was going to ruin you.
“Kiss me and find out?” you managed, and Jake huffed out a laugh before reaching for you again. His hands settled on your waist and he lifted to drag you towards him. 
“Yes ma’am,” he whispered before his lips crashed into yours. 
You were still reeling from the title, and how you liked the sound of it a little too much, but Jake’s mouth against yours drove that thought from your head. He kissed you like he’d wanted it for longer than you could’ve expected, his teeth biting at your lower lip, his tongue soothing after it. You shifted to help him as he pulled you towards him, both of you gasping when you settled in his lap. You were thankful his flannel pajamas could stand a bit of residual lotion, just as you were thankful for the pressure of his hands on your waist, fingers pressing into you and pulling you closer. Jake licked at the seam of your lips and you opened for him; when his tongue swept into your mouth, you felt it in your core. And suddenly, or maybe not suddenly, maybe finally, after months of build up, you were desperately needy. 
Your fingers pulled through his hair, and Jake’s hips pressed up when you pulled lightly on the strands. At the motion of his rolling hips, your pajama shorts pressed tightly into your core and the friction felt like building, and Jake broke away from your mouth with a gasp. His hands tightened on your waist, holding you still, and while you appreciated his restraint, you wanted to feel him again. 
You whispered his name as he trailed kisses down your neck, and your breath quickened when he found your pulse point under your jaw. Jake hummed, the vibration echoing over your skin, through you, and you realized he was muttering things against your skin. 
“D’you know how hard these last three weeks have been,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed kisses to new goosebumps, “with you always in those tiny shorts, saying it’s because you can’t have tight clothes over your tattoo?”
You felt lightheaded at the idea of Jake wanting you this whole time, maybe longer, locking it away and refusing to act on it because he didn’t know what you felt.    
“It’s true,” you managed, and Jake laughed, a puff of warm air over your skin. 
“And if that wasn’t enough,” another kiss, another soft suck, “you’ve been so whiny, haven’t you? Always pouting, always needy, making me wonder how you’d sound…”
Your eyes were closed, your world distilled to the heat of his mouth, the heat of his words. You pulled at him, needing his mouth over yours again, and Jake obliged. He was so much softer than you expected, gentle but firm, and he tasted so damn good. 
With him distracted, you rolled your hips again, rewarded by the friction over your core, and you could feel Jake hardening in his pajama pants. It was addictive, and you sought him out again, pouting when Jake stilled your hips again. 
“Baby,” he murmured, and heat shot through you at the pet name, not one he’d used jokingly before, “what was the point of the lotion if you’re going to grind it off against my flannels?”
“You can reapply it later,” you rationalized, but Jake shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. His lips were swollen, his cheeks reddened, and you loved the look of him like this, almost dazed. 
“C’mon,” he prompted you, and guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you managed, and Jake’s hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs. You were between his spread knees, and his hands played with the hem of your shorts before he pulled them down your legs, taking care to not scrape them over your tattoo. The air felt cold on your exposed skin, and Jake swore quietly as he dropped the shorts, staring at you in your underwear with something that felt dangerously close to adoration. 
He leaned closer, and at first you thought it was so he could be more gentle with your fragile panties, but then he pressed a kiss to the outside of your thigh and you jumped, pushing him away, embarrassed again. 
“You don’t—” you started, pursing your lips, “um, you don’t have to…do that. We can—”
Jake’s hands smoothed over your thighs, coming around to cup under your ass. Had you said his hands were cold earlier? You were sure they were burning, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched. 
“Nah, baby,” he whispered against your thighs, his nose brushing the soft skin there, as his hands squeezed you, “nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming ‘bout for months.”
Well, fuck, when he put it like that…
“Okay, then,” you said quietly, weaving your hand into his hair again, and Jake flashed a smile up at you. 
“Okay, then,” he echoed, and his fingers pulled your underwear over your hips. He scooted to the front of the couch, a motion that should’ve been cute for his enthusiasm, but instead was simply devastating. He looked so good like this, eager and hungry, and your breath caught when he licked his lips, your hips canting towards him. 
He didn’t look away from you. 
His green eyes locked on yours as he leaned closer, not pausing when his tongue crept past his lips and you were the one to break, your head tipping back when he licked you. His tongue was flat against you, like the first taste of ice cream, and your head spun at the shamelessness of it. You whimpered when he pulled away, and Jake’s breath was warm as he leaned back again. 
“There’s that sound I was after,” he murmured, his soft words a cutting juxtaposition to his filthy tongue. 
He teased you with soft licks, lapping at your arousal that’d only grown since he’d first touched your thighs earlier tonight. His hands snuck around to pull you apart, spread you on his fingers like he needed his tongue closer, tasting you and drinking you. He was unhurried and it was maddening, and you pulled at his tshirt distractedly, needing to feel his skin.  
“Ah, honey,” Jake muttered as he pulled back. “You taste so good, fucking unbelievable.”
You opened your eyes to find his chest heaving, his eyes dilated and your slick smeared across his chin. He looked so good like this, drunk on you, and you imagined you looked nearly as wrecked. He leaned back to pull his tshirt over his head, and your fingers smoothed over broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, as it was bared to you. 
He tossed the shirt aside and a moment later he was leaning back into your cunt, nuzzling your clit with his nose as his tongue lapped at you. Your knees nearly buckled at the sensation, and Jake groaned, the vibrations only increasing the intensity of the feelings flooding you. His strong hands held you up, spread before him, and he lifted his mouth to tease at your clit. You whined when his tongue rolled around you, alternating tight circles and slow, and your eyes rolled back when he closed his lips and sucked. 
“Jake, oh my god,” you gasped, feeling your stomach tighten. It was too soon, you knew it, but you also couldn’t fight it, and it was practically crashing over you—
Jake pulled back. 
You whined in confusion, looking down to find him looking up at you, a familiar expression of smug awareness on his face. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss to your thigh, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. 
“Told you I’ve been waiting on this for months, honey,” he teased, another wet kiss slightly higher on your thigh. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”
Nothing about this felt easy. Not the way he had your body primed for release, every nerve wound tight, not the way you felt it slipping away, and your desperation only climbing. 
You whimpered his name, too gone to be embarrassed by how fucked out you sounded. 
“Aw, baby…” Jake cooed, and you saw his shoulders shift as he repositioned. Before you could anticipate his next move, a broad finger was stroking through your folds, and you cried out, your hands flying to his shoulder to steady yourself. 
“So pretty like this,” Jake soothed, pulling his finger through you, stroking back over you, the pressure perfect, but not enough, “needy. Desperate.”
“Jake, please,” you cried, appalled to find real tears were pushing behind your eyes. After being so close to release, then being denied, then held steady wherever his fingers pulled you, you couldn’t be responsible for the way your body was shaking.
“Bet you’d beg me for it, wouldn’t you?” Jake said, voice even and unbothered. He added another finger, still not entering you, just teasing over you, languid. “You’re all proud when you’re strutting around in those shorts, cute when you ask for help, but not like this, huh? Like this, you know who’s in charge.”
Any response you had was cut off when he plunged both fingers into you. 
No warning, no easing, just sudden pressure and thickness and your body tightened around the sudden intrusion, unrelenting and unexpected and fucking perfect, and you couldn’t stop your orgasm as it ripped through you.
“Oh, fuck,” Jake groaned, as he recognized your walls tightening around his fingers. “Thatta girl, come on, give it to me.”
You moaned, your core clenching as your denied release rolled over you, scalding and strong and you felt it in your toes. You didn’t know how you were still standing, you knew the sounds pouring out of you were unbridled, and Jake was proudly talking you through it. 
“So beautiful, baby, you’re doing so good,” he said, his other hand stroking up your neck to support your head. You turned your head desperately, pulling his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it, needing to be grounded. 
“Fuck, baby,” Jake moaned, and his fingers kept their pace inside you. You felt the edges of your orgasm soften as he worked you through it, and as the fingers not in your mouth brushed against your cheek, you realized he was wiping away tears. You were shaking, it was perfect, but his fingers inside you were pressing deeper and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to push you higher again. 
“How we doing, honey?” Jake asked, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes. He was watching you carefully, and he pulled his thumb from your mouth so you could answer him.
“Good,” you whispered, through the clearing haze, “really, really, good.”
Jake hummed, tilting his head as he considered you. His fingers scissored inside of you, and you clenched down on him, hands grasping his shoulders. 
“Then I think you should give me another,” he said, smile growing as your eyes widened. 
“Jake, wait—” you protested, but you went without opposition when he pulled you back to the couch. His fingers paused their exploration but he didn’t pull out of you as he guided you onto your back, propping your knees up carefully. 
“Have to be gentle with that thigh,” he said, his voice growing husky as he settled between your legs. He stroked his fingers again, and your core clamped down on them, still not fully returned from your first high. Any other protest you had died when he bent down again, his mouth returning to your cunt. 
You’d had his tongue, you’d had his fingers, and they’d made you cum like you hadn’t in months. And now suddenly you had both at once, and you were pretty sure it was going to cost you your mind. 
“Jake, fuck,” you keened, your back arching off the couch.
Jake didn’t respond, too busy lapping up your release and thrusting into you. His tongue traced a maddening pattern over your clit as his fingers pressed deeper into you, stretching you.  
“You taste even sweeter like this, baby,” he mumbled into you, and you moaned as you felt his words. His fingers brushed something deep inside of you and you couldn’t breathe; you reached for Jake’s hair, pulling desperately, hoping he could read how impossibly taut you were. 
“You know something,” he mused, like it was the calmest thing in the world, “you came so quick, didn’t you? Came once you had something fucking you, and it was so beautiful, honey…but I never got to hear you beg.” 
“Jake,” you whispered, his name the only word you could manage, the only thing you could say with his fingers brushing that spot and his mouth just a breath away from you. 
“Nah,” he said, his voice low, “I know you could do it so prettily. Won’t you do it for me, sweetheart, won’t you let me hear it? Let me make you cum again?”
He kissed you again, his mouth light and teasing, brushing caresses over your mound but not where you were aching, throbbing, for him. His fingers slowed, torturously, pushing you closer but not fast enough, and you felt your eyes filling again. What was he asking for?
What was anything, what did he need?
“Jake, please,” you gasped, your voice thick. “Please, please—”
“Please what, baby?” Jake asked, another soft kiss. “What do you need?”
“I need to cum,” you practically sobbed. “Please, need it so bad, please, Jake—need you so bad, need you to—”
“That’s right,” Jake practically growled, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “You need me. And I’ve got you, honey, so you can let you go, since you asked so nicely, and I’m gonna take care of you…”
His forearm was banded across your waist, holding you still as his fingers found that spot inside of you, pressed up against it, and your thighs shook as your second orgasm bowled over you. Jake’s tongue was over your clit, then his lips closed, and when you thought you might be ready to let go of the high, he sucked, and you fully shattered. You could feel your nails raking into his back, feel his responding groans through the mouth still pressed to your cunt, as your world dissolved into white heat. It swept over you and you stopped trying to ride it, just let yourself be thrown, buffeted by Jake’s mouth, Jake’s fingers, Jake’s soft words.  
“Fucking gorgeous, baby, you did so good,” Jake was murmuring into the skin of your stomach. His fingers were still inside of you, gently rocking but no longer trying to stimulate you. It would’ve brought tears to your eyes, if they weren’t already streaming, how tender he was being with you. The whiplash was incredible—how quickly he’d brought you to orgasm, how easily he’d denied you, how thoroughly fucked out you were, now that he’d given it to you. 
God, and you hadn’t even had him yet. 
“Jake,” you croaked, your throat hoarse, and he lifted his head to look up at you. 
“What is it, honey?” he asked, voice soft. He was propped up on his elbows, and he shifted slightly, pulling his fingers out of you. You pressed your lips together to stop a whimper from escaping and trying to ignore how empty you felt, and watching quietly as he wiped his hands absently on his pajama pants before looking back up at you. 
You lifted a hand to brush away some of his hair that’d fallen into his face. You shifted slightly, pulling the hem of your tshirt down to wipe at his chin, clean him up a little. It was rough, not the intended purpose of the garment, and Jake laughed a little at the clumsiness of the action, pressing his jaw into your cotton-covered hand, to help you as you wiped at his face. 
You bit your lip, more to stop yourself from smiling so wide it made you hurt, looking down at him, propped up on his elbows 
He looked proud. 
He looked content, and it made your heart swell uncomfortably in your chest, that he’d look like that after taking care of you. But the longer you looked at him, something like doubt flickered behind his eyes and he cleared his throat, looking away. 
“If…” he started, and he shook his head, like he was clearing the fog after a night out. “Uh, you know, if that’s too much…or not what you wanted, or something, we can just say it was a distraction. You know, to get your mind off the tattoo.”
You hadn’t thought about the thing in what felt like a lifetime.
More importantly, you saw Jake still wasn’t meeting your eyes, like he expected you to say that that’s all this was, and he was worried you’d see too much if you were looking at him when you said it. It broke your heart, that he would push away his own repressed feelings, if it meant protecting yours. 
Although, to be fair, you’d both been more honest in the last thirty minutes than you’d been in the months before, so it was probably on you, as well as him. 
You carded your fingers through his hair again, waiting.
It took another couple seconds, but Jake steeled himself and looked back at you. 
You hadn’t realized you’d missed the green of them. 
In the height of everything, they’d been hooded and dark, the bright color nearly lost in his blown pupils. But like this, clear and sweet, you thought you might like this better. 
“It wasn’t too much,” you said, simply.
Jake’s shoulders dropped, just slightly, and you saw him wanting to contest it, and so you shook your head. 
“I think that’s a conversation for later,” you said gently, “when we’re both a little more clothed, hmm?”
“Oh,” Jake said, his head turning quickly as he looked around for your pajama shorts. “I can reach—”
You wanted to roll your eyes and you wanted to pinch him, just a little, to get him to listen to you. “That’s not what I meant,” you corrected. “I’m not…I’m not ready to be done. Besides, we han’t gotten you off yet.”
“Oh, that’s okay, that’s not what this was about,” Jake said quickly and you tilted your head, pushing yourself up to sitting. 
Jake was still between your spread knees, your faces close together now, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a quick reassurance before you reached between the two of you. 
Jake jumped when your hand slid over the front of his pajama pants, and you felt like cooing. Even through the thick cotton, you felt him respond to your touch. The fabric had to be adding to the illusion, because he felt enormous under the flannel. 
And it was very gentlemanly that this was for you, that he didn’t want this to be a thing about reciprocity, but in a much more tangible way, he’d made you feel infinite, just a few minutes ago. If you could do the same for him, you imagined you’d probably feel just as proud as he had, to see you come undone.
“What’d you say,” you asked innocently, your fingers trailing up the length of him, “about distracting me?”
When you looked back up at Jake, his eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly, deliberate, like he was holding his breath. 
Sweet man. 
You leaned back up to kiss him gently, waiting for him to kiss you back. It took only a moment, and you bit back a moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. You kissed him softly for a minute, gentle lips, gentle tastes, coaxing. When you pulled back, Jake’s lashes fluttered before he opened his eyes to look at you. 
“I don’t know,” you lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I think I’d be pretty distracted if I were choking on your dick, Jake.”
“Jesus,” Jake whispered, and his hips bucked into your touch. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to–”
You licked your lips, his words from earlier coming back to you. “Nothing ‘have to’ about something I’ve been dreaming about for months.”
Jake surged forward, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you to him. You tasted his longing in this kiss, the tight reins he held himself in check with, and how desperately he wanted to give them to you, if only for a moment. You wanted that, and maybe for a little longer. So you kissed him for a moment more, then slid off the couch, settling between his knees like before, but this time, he stayed with his back against the back of the couch, and you were on the ground. 
“Wait,” he said, leaning over to grab a pillow, and gesturing for you to use it under your knees.  
Forget rolling your eyes or pinching him, did you want to marry him?
You shook the thought out of your head, settling on the cushion and reaching up to help Jake slide the pajama pants down. He hooked his boxer briefs along with them, and once they slid past his hips, his cock sprang free. 
“Holy fuck, Seresin,” you whispered, looking up at his face. Jake shrugged, a kind of bashful you hadn’t seen him before. One of his hands fisted his cock loosely, like he needed something to do, and you reached up to pry his fingers away. 
No wonder he walked around like he did. 
As you wrapped your hands around him, replacing his fingers, you couldn’t deny a fresh wave of arousal washed over you. His wasn’t the longest dick you’d seen, but he was thick, a dusty rose color that you’d kill for a lipstick match of—which just made you think of why you were waiting so long to get him in your mouth. 
But he’d teased you, and when you glanced up at Jake, his hands clenched at his sides, his stomach tight, you figured he was due for a taste of his own medicine. 
You kissed up his thighs slowly, loving the contrast of wiry hair over smooth skin, and when you got to his cock, you let out a warm breath over the tip. As you watched, a smooth drop of precum appeared at the edge of his cock, and you frowned in mock sympathy, knowing how worked up he must’ve been from finishing you, while denying himself. 
“Bet you’d beg something pretty yourself, Jake,” you teased softly, licking at the drop of moisture and pulling his salty taste back into your mouth. You hummed, immediately salivating for more, but Jake’s hips jerked up as he choked in a breath.
“Darlin’...” he said, his voice low, and you had mercy on him, not needing to hear the words to know how badly he wanted this. 
“Good thing I’m nicer than you, hmm?” you asked, before you licked at him again. 
Jake’s head fell back limply as you tongued his tip, teasing the sensitive head before you licked up the length of him. This was supposed to be for him, but as you were here, you were lost in the exploration of him—the gorgeous weight of him, the musky scent of him, the rich taste, and the sounds he was making. 
You kind of loved how quiet he was being, when it was clearly costing him dearly. 
It meant that when he did burst, it was going to be loud, and you wanted that break. You kissed your way lightly back to his tip, before opening your mouth and pulling him in. 
You’d been joking earlier, about it being distracting, but fuck. The ache to your jaw was immediate, your mouth open as wide as it could to accommodate his thickness. But it felt so good, deeply satisfying, to be able to hold him like this. Warm and thick in your mouth, stretching you—you moaned around him, imagining him filling you. You hollowed your cheeks lightly, sucking, and Jake groaned above you. 
There it was. 
You pushed yourself deeper onto him, holding your breath and fighting your gag reflex, and Jake’s hands shot out to hold the back of your head, his breath a low moan that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. 
You clenched your thighs together, the sound of him and the weight of him had you feeling so empty, while you knew you were physically stretching to your limits. You pulled off of him, a trail of saliva falling from between your lips and his tip, and Jake swore softly at the sight. 
“That mouth, baby,” he groaned, and you felt his thumb trace your lips, smearing your spit across it. You opened your mouth, holding out your tongue and Jake groaned again, feeding his cock back into your mouth.
You felt like he could see straight through you.
That was how it felt, his eyes boring into you as his cock stretched your jaw and his hips pressed slowly deeper. Your nostrils flared and your eyes were streaming again, but you wanted this, wanted him, wanted him to find his release in you, as you had in him. You couldn’t take him all the way down your throat, not now, although you relished the idea of training, so you found a rhythm that seemed to work for both of you. 
Jake’s hips rose slightly to meet you, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, alternating sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip. Your other hands stroked the part of him that you couldn’t fit, squeezing and pulling and you heard Jake’s breathing getting heavier. You were lightheaded, overwhelmed by him, but you couldn’t stop, not for something as simple as air. 
The stretch of him was so good, unrelenting and perfect, and the steadiness with which he held himself in check, it felt like a promise. It made your core ache, throbbing and empty, but you reached up to play with his balls. One of your hands cupped him lightly and then Jake was pulling you off of him. 
You choked at the sudden influx of air as Jake set you back on your thighs, his hands smoothing over your face as he checked you were okay. You couldn’t remember a time you’d felt better, lightheaded and dreamy, but you nodded obediently in answer to the unspoken question, and Jake pulled you to standing. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you knew with absolute certainty that you’d follow him.
Mercifully, it was just around the couch, and when you understood his plan, you whimpered slightly, hoping you could take it. You braced your forearms on the armrest of the coach, rocking back on your hips, presenting your ass to him, and Jake was already behind you, covering you. His long arms draped over yours, pressing you into the couch, even as his knee worked between your thighs, spreading your legs. You moaned when you felt his cock slap against your thighs, and one of Jake’s hands fell to between your legs to cup your cunt. 
“Oh, baby,” he whispered, voice somehow both rough and awed. “Is this new? You work yourself up, getting me off?”
You meant to say ‘obviously, asshole’, or ‘as if you didn’t know it’, but what came out was a truly pathetic, “Jake, please…”
He chuckled, his body stretched over yours, and the sound broke off when he guided his cock towards your core. 
“Honey, you’re so wet and warm, fuck. Need to be in you, baby, need to feel this tight cunt—”
“Do it already,” you cried, rewarded by another deep laugh from Jake, and then you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because that thick cock was pushing into you. 
It was a good thing he was holding you up. 
Your body was shaking to accommodate him, already loosened from your orgasms and his fingers, but the stretch still bordered on painful, and you dropped your head to your forearms as he pushed into you. You weren’t doing anything, you were simply there, letting him fuck into you slowly, and you couldn’t think of anywhere better to be. 
“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight,” Jake groaned, and you knew he was trying to go slow, but that didn’t make the stretch any more attainable.
“Need you,” you managed. “Please, Jake, want to be full—”
His hips slammed forward and you cried out as he bottomed out into you. 
You felt impaled, you felt him in your throat, you felt like this was everything you could want and you trembled but held him in you. You felt full, and it was so, so good.  
“Honey,” Jake gritted, “I’ve got to move, but I need to know you’re okay.”
“I’m good,” you whispered, “let me feel you.”
He groaned, another gorgeous iteration of that sound, and when he pulled back, you clawed at the edge of the couch. It was like he was shifting your center of gravity, but the pull was re-orienting. You had no choice but to surrender to it. 
Your whole universe was balanced on the edge of the sofa. 
Jake’s thick cock, stuffing you. Jake’s strong chest, pressed against your back, his arms holding you up, pulling you to him. Jake’s sweat, dripping off of him and onto you, sweet and sticky and heady. The pull and push of him, overwhelming and deep, remaking you. 
You weren’t going to cum from this; it was too much, but it was too good to stop. You’d already had yours, and you could hear how good it was for Jake, could feel it in the tight clench of his hands and the short length of his thrusts. 
Jake groaned, a throaty sound that jolted through you as he pulled you back onto his dick.
“Sweetheart you feel so good…is this what we’ve been missing out on? This tight as fuck cunt, that I can just feel clenching around me? Touch yourself, honey, I need to feel you come again, want to feel you come on my cock.”
You couldn’t be sure if you were crying or babbling, but when Jake told you to play with yourself, you summoned your boneless limbs to do as he asked. 
When your fingers brushed your clit, you immediately pulled back; it was too much. 
“I can’t,” you gasped, hands falling back to brace against the couch. “It’s too much, Jake, I can’t–”
“Poor baby,” Jake gritted, and one of his hands smoothed down your back before dipping around to your stomach and finding his way to your clit. Your knees buckled and your hips jerked away from his hand, but a moment later you were pressing into him, needing the perfect pain of his touch. 
“Honey, you’re doing so good,” Jake’s voice was tight. “God, you feel unreal, clenching down on me like that. Are you gonna cum again? Is this pussy going to cum for me?” 
“Jake,” you sobbed, his name the only prayer you could manage.
“That’s it, baby,” he soothed, his touch gentling, even as his hips sped up. “I’m almost there; I know you are too. Where can I come, honey, where do you want me–”
“Jake,” you moaned, your head thrashing from side to side. It was too much, it wasn’t enough, but you knew you needed him. “In me…please..Jake...”
“Holy fuck,” Jake groaned. “Baby, are you sure I–”
You bucked back into him, the thought of losing his heat and his presence nearly unbearable. “Need you,” you whimpered. “Jake, please–”
“I’m right here,” Jake’s hips pistoned impossibly faster. “Fuck, I’m here, I’ve got you. Shit, honey, you feel so good, you’re gonna make me cum, baby, please–”
He ground his hips deep into you and rolled his fingers over your clit once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out and you felt Jake grunt as he caught you, his hips pounding into you a couple more times and he stilled with another beautiful moan as he pumped his release into you. You felt him, hot and pulsing inside of you, and you wanted to curl up into that feeling forever—warm, full, safe. 
Jake summoned some kind of strength as he turned the both of you, him settling onto the ground and you on his lap, your cunt clenching around him, like you still couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. You turned into his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you, cradling you, somehow knowing how intense that had been and that you needed the warmth of his chest before you could come back down. 
You were shaking, incredibly exhausted but deeply satisfied. And as you drifted back, you became aware of the tangible things around you—Jake’s chest hair prickling your face. Stranger Things still playing, on the TV. The cool air in the room around you, the sticky remains between your thighs. 
You lifted your head to find Jake looking down at you, his expression careful, like he was worried what he’d see. Your eyes closed again, and you managed a smile before you turned your face into his chest again, pressing a kiss to whatever was closest. His hands were locked around your back, but you could feel his thumb brushing over your skin, lightly. And it was wild, that that was what had started this all, and if you’d had the energy for it, you would’ve laughed. 
You could deal with the repercussions later, what this meant for your roommate situation, if your thigh was any worse for wear, any of that. Because that motion, that comforting gesture that Jake didn’t even seem to be aware he was doing—that meant that this was always where you were gonna end up. 
//
tagging: @bradshawsbitch @callsign-fangirl @laracrofted @datemephoenix @mandylove1000 @withahappyrefrain @gigisimsonmars @babyonboardfloyd @blue-aconite @mxgyver @hangmanbrainrot @lt-bradshaw @wildbornsiren @fuckyeahhangman @double-j @sebsxphia @javihoney @jadore-andor @teacupsandtopgun @thedroneranger
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foreverjustaplace · 3 months
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The Bear in the Room
AHHHHHHH!! I'm not at all normal about Syd and Carmy. Like not at all. I have been reading and writing fanfiction since elementary LOL, but it's been years and years since I wrote anything. I've devoured just about every single fanfic with the Syd/Carmy tag I could find and then some. I've had this tumblr for over a decade and posted ZERO things. Now I've retweeted every other sydcarmy post and debated sharing my own theories and fics. But it's time. Feedback is welcomed! But be gentle, my darlings, I'm not exaggerating when I say I haven’t written fanfiction in over a decade. I'm nervous. Here's an excerpt from the first chapter, which will hopefully be up soon on AO3. It's called The Bear in The Room and will be a 5+1 Time fic.
5 Times Syd called Carmy "Bear" and 1 Times he calls her "Bear"
Syd is irritated. “Look, Carm. Effective teamwork begins and ends with communication.” She doesn’t tell him she stole that line from Coach K. “How can we build this up to be as successful as we want it to be if you’re not even telling me you’re going to be late? Or, I don’t know, text me if you’re not going to come in at all during our scheduled time.”
“Syd, that was one time. And I didn’t realize my phone wasn’t plugged in properly which is why it died and I couldn’t text you until much later. That’s my fault. I was tired–”
Sydney cuts him off. “Carmy, dude, I’ve literally gotten less than five hours of sleep each night for the last couple of weeks. We’re all tired. We’ve been tired. This shit isn’t new for us. We need you on your A-game. I need you at your best!” 
Carmy runs both of his hands through his hair, and his voice is strained but louder than it’s been all morning. “Syd, you are the one person who gets me at my best. If I’m fucking up out there,” he gestures to the windows behind them as he continues, “I’m doing everything in my power to not bring that shit near you. I give you whatever my best is, okay? You have to know that I want this restaurant to succeed, and I want to get you those fucking stars.” His face redding as his electric blue eyes look into her expansive brown ones. 
Syd’s annoyance is fizzling out. She knows she shouldn’t let it. She wants to keep it at the forefront of her mind. She tries to force herself to keep thinking about how he’s been absent, hanging out with his girlfriend–a friend who’s a girl–Claire–whoever she is to him–but he’s still Carm and she’s still Syd. And though she hasn’t worked on the menu with him in his apartment in weeks, and though the moments of them talking about nothing and everything outside during a smoke break, where he somehow is always just finishing the cigarette he came outside to smoke as she opens the back door and comes to sit right next to him, haven’t been as frequent, she still feels deeply connected to him. 
So all she can do at that moment is bite her bottom lip and swipe her tongue on that same spot so quickly, you’d miss it if you blinked, before hesitantly responding. “You have my best, too, and I—” But she doesn’t get to finish because Fak chooses that moment to push the restaurant’s new door open and boisterously yell out to no one in particular, “Look who I found! It’s Claire Bear and she is going to help us with our GET-THE-BEAR-FUCKING-READY-FOR-OPENING-DAY day!” Syd can’t help but stare at Claire, a beat too long, with her full face of makeup and fancy-looking shirt. At least she put on some closed-toed shoes for today. Before Claire can get out of Fak’s embrace, Syd turns back to Carmen and says, “I need your best to be better,” as she walks off to find Nat.
Soo what do you think? Is it worth posting?
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skullpie · 1 year
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OHMYGOD NEW BLOG THAT WRITES FOR TWO OF MY FAVOURITES??:!189( SCREAMS
anyways is it okay if you just do some silly relationship hcs with joonyeong (aouad) and jaeheon (sweet home) separately I WILL LITERALLY CRY TEARS OF JOY
relationship hcs x
joonyeong x reader; jaeheon x reader (separate)
summary: relationship hcs for joonyeong (aouad) & jaeheon (sweet home)
warning(s): series typical warnings!
note(s): anon based on this request i think u have a type.. side eye.. can’t blame u tho uptight dorks with wire framed glasses are hot ! hope u enjoy lovely :) and ty for being my first request on this blog!! i thought i’d have to put some fics out before i got any so this is rly encouraging. i appreciate you!
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joonyeong
such a little nerd
definitely started out as good friends
absurdly proud of the fact that he has a partner
like… him?? he feels so special
(he is)
study dates where he actually intends to study and you distract him the whole time by begging for kisses and sitting on his lap etc
sometimes he caves, sometimes he doesn’t, he takes his academics seriously
but idk the image of you wrapping your arms around his neck and telling him to take a break with you during exams week.. lord….
“i miss my boyfriend”
“we’ve been together for the past three hours”
“but you’ve not been paying any attention to me! :(“
he does help you with work though, he thinks it’s really important
your parents adore him, they think he’s a great influence on you (even if you’re also great at school)
he’s the type to think the secretly hate him, though, so you often go over to his to spend time with each other
really enjoys going to whatever events you’re involved in
even if he doesn’t understand jack shit about any of it
remembers really specific and small details about you for sure
very eager to introduce you to people as “my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner!”
really proud of you and your relationship–does not try to hide that he’s taken
but he overall prefers private intimacy and affection
and very small, gentle forms of it at that
you can fluster him pretty easily tho
i can definitely see a friendly academic rivals to lovers situation happening
when the virus breaks out he never lets you out of his sight
cliché, but if you’re ever accused of being infected, he’s defending you with his life
when you can’t sleep he holds you, which doesn’t make you sleep but it is comforting
tries his hardest to tell you how important you are to him very often while everything is happening
first (and last) l-word is said when he decides to jump out of the barricade to save everyone (sorry ouch)
jaeheon
wholesome wholesome wholesome
he admires you so much
you probably meet in the elevator
he tries talking to you about his lord and savior–you think it’s really endearing how passionate he is
genuinely believes god sent you to him personally like an angel
just always smiling with you
holding hands everywhere you go
very often being mistaken for a married couple when you’re out and even by neighbors
(hyein starts telling people you’re married, and referring to you as ‘that married couple’)
likes holding your face and just admiring you, pressing little kisses to every spot he can think of
basically worships you
not the type to get flustered, per-say but he does get very hesitant and shy about certain levels of intimacy
hugging you from behind and pressing kisses to your shoulder, up your neck and to the top of your head. omg
just very traditionally romantic in the ways he shows you affection
kissing your hand, getting you flowers often, opening the car door for you, etc
biggest gentleman
when you get locked in the apartment building, he becomes bolder, or at least less hesitant about things
literally would die to protect you (and he does)
is always holding onto you in some way in low-intensity situations
the thought of you asking him to teach you how to use his sword, and he does that cute thing where when he goes to teach you, he stands behind you and holds your hands and arms to show you IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES
forehead kisses. that’s it just forehead kisses
when either of you are given a task, he always makes sure to hold you for at least a minute or two before he leaves. in case it’s the last time (sobs)
really good friends with jisu during the lock-in
you two find comfort in each other after he’s gone (NOT LIKE THAT) ((but also maybe like that idk im not the boss of you))
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