#since I desperately wanted to be in grad school and wasn’t | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daisynik7 · 10 months

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test drive

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

cw: exes-to-lovers, a breakup scene (flashback) established past relationship, fluff, some angst, smut - car sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, face-riding, 69 position, sex with no condom, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: You’re moving back to your hometown of Paradis after completing two long years of grad school in Marley. In desperate need of a car, you’re surprised to hear from your ex-boyfriend Eren, who graciously offers you one. Author’s Note: Had this in my head for a while, brain is a little fried at the moment, but I just had to get this out! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated! Header image found on Pinterest, mdni divider by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, do you think we should break up?”

The two of you are in your bedroom, finished packing the last of your luggage before you fly out to Marley tomorrow morning. It’s near midnight on the last day of summer. The windows are open, and the chirping of crickets is loud amidst the silence of the night air. He zips your suitcase closed, peering at you, confused. “What?”

It’s been the lingering question on your mind the past couple of weeks, but you were too afraid to mention it. Maybe you were hoping that the thought would go away on its own. You didn’t really want to break up. You love him. The idea of being apart scares you, though. The uncertainty, the unknown. Two years isn’t very long in the grand scheme of life, but who’s to say you don’t end up deciding to remain in Marley for good? Eren has already made it clear that he has no intentions of leaving Paradis. Would staying together be a waste of time when the future is so unpredictable?

You bite your lip, nervous to elaborate, voice timid. “I’ve heard that long distance is really hard.”

He stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? We’ll get through it.”

“Will we, though? I’m going to be busy with school, and you’re starting your new job. Plus, Marley is so far away. When are we ever going to see each other?”

He stares at you as if you’re sputtering nonsense. “We’ll make it work,” he answers, definitive.

“It’s not going to be easy.”

He scratches his scalp, frustrated. “I don’t understand. Do you want to break up?”

You stay quiet, contemplating. When you don’t respond right away, he says, “You do, don’t you?” He sounds like he’s been betrayed, which in retrospect, he has been. By you, of all people. The person who’s supposed to love him.

Breathing staggered, tears welling in your eyes, you murmur, “I just don’t know if we can do it.”

He begins pacing the floor, voice increasing in volume, rightfully upset. “You don’t know if you can do it. Me? I’m all in. You’re already giving up before we try.”

“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt!” you cry.

“What do you call this, then?!” he yells, tears rolling down his cheeks. “This fucking hurts! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way sooner?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t sure! I was scared.” You sob into your hands. “I’m sorry, Eren.”

He’s shaking his head erratically, fists bunched in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now. After all we’ve been through. You don’t even want to give it a shot.”

You swallow hard, wiping snot from your nose. “We can try it out. Let’s try it out,” you plead with him, regretting it.

“No. It’s too late now. You already set us up for failure. Since you’re not confident about us, then maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.” He sounds spiteful. Daggers piercing through your heart in the form of harsh words. And while you struggle for breath, drenching the fabric of your t-shirt, you can’t blame him for reacting this way. You spent an amazing summer together, and the night before you leave, you drop a grenade like this. What were you thinking?

“Eren,” you beg, sniffling

“I gotta go,” he mutters, grabbing his keys, avoiding your gaze.

“Eren, wait!” you shout, following him out the room. Down the stairs. Through the front door. In front of his car. “Eren! I’m sorry! I take it back!”

“Have a nice life in Marley,” he spits out, getting into his car, slamming it shut, and reversing out of the driveway without another word. Headlights reflect off the shimmer in your eyes, watching him leave.

That’s the last time you saw Eren. The next day, you boarded your flight to Marley and moved into your new home. You tried to call him, text him, even pestered friends and family to urge him to reach out to you. He never did. And all the while, you still don’t blame him for reacting the way he did.

The two of you were happy. You loved each other. And when an inkling of hardship reared its ugly head, you ran for it instead of facing it. There’s no way you could have predicted that your relationship would fall apart. In fact, there’s many times that you’ve considered how much stronger the two of you would have gotten if you did stay together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you had believed that sooner, you wouldn’t be living with this remorse.

It's been over two years since that day. Life continued, though it was tough not having Eren around anymore. He was always your biggest supporter, the anchor that kept you afloat. Grad school wouldn’t have been as stressful if you had him by your side, but you managed to scrape by. You made new friends along the way while maintaining your relationships from home. Mikasa and you would chat regularly, and on occasion, she would mention Eren’s name in passing. You received little footnotes of his life through her, but overall, he’s a stranger to you now.

That being said, you’re shocked to finally hear from him after that fateful night two years ago.

Following graduation, you secured a job in Paradis nearby your hometown. For now, the plan is to move in with your family until you save enough money to move out. Unfortunately, you don’t have car. So, in an unexpected turn of events, you sit in the rear of a taxi, on your way to Eren’s.

Eren: Heard you’re home and you need a car.

Those were his first words to you after two whole years of radio silence. After telling you to have a nice life in Marley. Of course, you were stunned when his name popped up on your screen in the first place, even more so to see his offer to help you. Most likely he was informed about your current situation by Mikasa. Nevertheless, it shocks you that he wants anything to do with you.

You actually want to meet with him. It may be no more than a business transaction, but to see him in the flesh will be nice. Will it fix what happened? Probably not. It’s worth a shot, though, for some peace of mind. Maybe this is his own way of telling you that he’s over it, and that the two of you can finally put this to bed.

So, you arrange a time to meet at his place. He gives you an unfamiliar address; it seems he moved out of his parent’s house not long after he started working. Mikasa had mentioned that before. What she’s never disclosed with you is if he’s been dating. On your way to him, your belly begins to fill with dread. Could you handle seeing Eren with another woman? Living together, happily in love? You want him to be happy, but with someone else? Deep down, you still love him. You never dated anyone seriously during your time in Marley. No one even came close to him. He’ll never get back together with you, not after what happened. In fact, you’re positive he’s already found someone, a person who will appreciate him and love him for all he is. Someone who isn’t afraid. It’s better he’s with someone else; you actually hope you see that today, so that you can finally move on.

The trip takes over half an hour. You recognize the route being taken; the same one you would take on the way to Paradis University, where you and Eren met for the first time. During freshman year, Mikasa, your roommate at the time, introduced you to him. The two of you became fast friends, even faster lovers. The spark was there the moment you shook his hand, the moment he gazed into your eyes, flashing that charming smile at you. It was casual at first, no labels, no strings attached. Two horny college kids fulfilling their sexual desires exclusively with one another. Kisses and sex soon became something more, something special. By the time you were sophomores, it was official: he was yours and you were his.

The driver enters a quaint neighborhood, pulling up to the front of a modern apartment complex. Once you pay the fare, you step out, inspecting the building. Eren lives on the third floor; each unit has a balcony overlooking the neighborhood, the nearby cityscape in the near distance. It’s a beautiful location and your curiosity gets the best of you. Who is he currently sharing his life with? Do they watch sunrises together from their grand view, sipping their morning coffee in domestic bliss? Should it be you instead?

Before you get carried away with your imagination, you retrieve your phone from your bag, texting him that you have arrived and are waiting outside. There’s no reason for you to head up into his apartment, right? You’re here to check out his car; that’s it. You can’t help thinking that it would be fun to check out. For research purposes, of course.

He replies quickly, mentioning how he’ll head down to you. You take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing yourself to see him for the first time ever since your bitter goodbye. Do you hug him? Keep your distance? Should you say anything personal or keep it strictly professional? All of these conflicting feelings are fighting with each other in your head. There’s so much you want to tell him: your life the last two years, how sorry you are for the way it ended, how much you miss him. At the same time, you want a clean slate, almost as if you’re strangers meeting for the first time.

As he steps out from the lobby, you freeze on the spot, dazzled by his presence. What strikes you initially is how long his hair has gotten; it’s enough to put up into a small bun, with a few stray strands scattered around his face. His eyes are as brilliant as ever, barely visible dark circles underneath from age or stress, most likely the lather; it hasn’t been that long. There’s still that youthful charm about him, though. That will never fade.

He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sweats pants, an outfit reminiscent of his college years, laid-back and casual. You’ve always liked this look on him, always found it sexy. Too many memories of you stripping this exact attire off him, hasty to make love in the twin bed of his dormitory. You try to shake these thoughts away as he approaches you with a rigid disposition, hesitant and a bit awkward. He clears his throat before saying, “Hey.” His hands are in his pockets as he greets you.

You respond with a gentle smile. “Hi.”

This is going to be harder than you thought.

~~~

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since they broke up, since he last saw her. Two whole fucking years.

Eren didn’t want to break up. The thought never even crossed his mind. He was determined to be with her the rest of his life, of their lives. That’s why he got so upset when she suggested it. They spent an entire summer together, perfect in every possible way, and she had the nerve to ask that question the night before the big move? Do you think we should break up? He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. They were supposed to love each other forever.

It doesn’t excuse the way he behaved to her afterwards. Instead of discussing it like a mature adult, he exploded, too caught up in the storm of emotions raging in his head. His ego was hurt, pride shot down, heart betrayed. Following that night, Eren was too ashamed by the whole ordeal; he thought it’d be easier to ignore it and move on.

Move on. Yeah right.

He replays those scenes constantly. Her pleas of We can try it out. Let’s try it out. I’m sorry! I take it back! ringing in his ears like a broken record, reminding him that if they talked about it, if he had just turned around to work it out, maybe they’d still be together. They’d be happy. It’s the biggest regret of his life; not fighting for her and letting her slip away. A fleeting moment of weakness and fear leading to their ultimate demise. A tragic ending to such a beautiful story. Can they ever get the happy ending they wanted?

He tried to date other women; it never amounted to anything serious. Eventually, Eren gave up on the dating scene all together, focusing his energy on other priorities like his career and friendships. He was hoping that one day, he’d magically be over her.

When Mikasa informs him about her move back to Paradis, he knows immediately he needs to meet with her. Seeing her one last time might be the key to moving on once and for all. So, he finally decides to be mature and contact her, under the guise of giving her one of his cars. In his defense, he’s been meaning to sell it anyways. He never could quite let it go, though, considering it’s the car he drove all throughout college, with her. Late night drives to Maria’s Point, holding hands and kissing beneath the stars. Fast food runs at their favorite drive-thru, her feeding French fries to him from the passenger side, cruising through the empty streets with their favorite music blaring through the radio speakers. Even the backseat has seen plenty of action during those years, the foreground to many naughty trysts away from campus. Every corner of it carries a memory of her; that’s why he’s been so reluctant to let it go. He still loves her. But that’s all in the past. This car will be the final peace offering that will allow him to move on. He’s got it all planned out.

What he’s not prepared for is the rush of emotions that flood his chest upon seeing her. This is definitely not part of the plan.

When he greets her, she smiles at him, the same radiant smile he’s yearned for the two years of her absence. One that instantly warms his soul. He does his best to maintain his composure. Keep it together, he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he clenches his fists, bursting at the seams. This isn’t part of the plan.

He kicks the ground with his heels, fidgeting. “So…it’s been a minute, huh?” He does a mental eye roll to himself. Did he really say that? Idiot, idiot, idiot.

She giggles, and he nearly combusts. How is it that a simple laugh can ignite every fiber of his being? He’s a fool for assuming he could get through this unscathed. “Yeah. It has. How are you?” Her expression is sincere; he always loved that about her, how intently she listens, how much she cares. Even after their harsh breakup, that sincerity remains. She’s making this much more difficult than he expected.

He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m okay. You?”

She mimics him, raising her shoulders. “I’m alright.”

He chews his lip nervously before asking, “Well, do you want to check out the car?” Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, he reminds himself.

She nods, following him to the parking garage to his designated spot. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “You want to sell me this?”

“Yup.”

She inspects it, mouth parted, surprised. “Wow. The Titan.”

He busts out in laughter, amused that she remembers the silly nickname they came up with freshman year. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

She turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, lips curled into a warm smile. “How could I forget?”

He swallows hard, saliva thick on his tongue. Fluttering in his core, tingling through his fingers. The question stumbles out quickly. “Want to take it out for a spin? A test drive?”

Eren’s aware that this is dangerous territory. The two of them, enclosed in the small space of his car, memories in every crevice of the interior. It’s his chance to properly apologize for what happened. That’s how he justifies it, at least. Part of him also wants to recreate their past together. Riding in his car, fingers laced together on the center console, singing their favorite songs with the windows rolled down, wind blowing on their smiling faces. It’s infeasible; he doesn’t even know if she feels the same way. There’s that tiny portion of him that holds out hope; she did agree to meet him. That means something, right?

She contemplates for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive, though?”

“Still the passenger princess, I see.”

“Some things never change, right?” She gives him a wink before stepping to the side of the car, waiting for him to unlock the doors.

He gulps, thrilled and jittery at whatever adventure they’re about to embark on. In the corner of his mind, all he can think is

Fuck the plan.

~~~

You weren’t supposed to get in it with him. The idea was to meet him and do the exchange, simple as that. When you recognize the car, all the memories you shared flood into your mind. You let your emotions get the best of you; you want one more special moment with Eren. It’s only fair to your relationship to end it on a good note, right? You weren’t expecting anything more than closure, which was what the both of you needed.

He doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, but he doesn’t have to. By the time you’re on the highway, you watch the sun set in the distance from the rearview mirror. You pass by multiple signs, indicating Maria’s Point in x number of miles, the amount decreasing the closer you approach it. The two of you chat, condensing all from the past two years into a half hour car ride. You describe your experience in grad school, he talks about his full-time job. It’s cordial, like two old friends catching up after a while being apart. Except the both of you are fully aware of the elephant squished in the backseat of The Titan. Neither of you mention anything about it.

He drives up the familiar hill leading up to the panorama at the top of the cliff. This spot of Maria’s Point is often secluded, which was perfect for you and Eren back in the day. He parks away from the edge, the last rays of orange and pink hovering on the skyline. With a twist of his keys, he shuts off the ignition and it’s silent. Suddenly, after effortless conversation, you’re shy, unable to speak.

Luckily, he does. “I actually want to talk to you about something important.”

You snap your seatbelt off, adjusting to give him your full attention. His hands remain on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry for the way I acted that night.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; you know exactly what he’s referring to. You’re caught off guard from the apology, so you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.

After a deep breath, he explains, “I blew up, and I shouldn’t have. I got upset because I thought you had given up before we even tried. But I know you were scared; I was too. Regardless, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry. For that and for avoiding you after.” He slides his hands around the wheel, dropping them to his lap. His eyes are forward, avoiding you.

When he doesn’t have more to add, you respond. “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I should have told you how I was feeling instead of ignoring it until the last minute. Like you said, I was scared, so I ran away from it without even giving it a shot. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to us.” He’s focuses on you now, listening carefully as you talk. “Just so you know, I never blamed you for how you reacted. I deserved it.”

He shifts his body towards you, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t even say goodbye.”

You blink away the oncoming tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. We can do that now.”

The stillness that follows is concerning. He studies you with an unreadable expression, contemplating. Then, he leans closer to you, elbow resting on the center console, his breath tickling your cheeks, whispering, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

You gravitate towards him, lessening the space between you, gazing at his lips. “You don’t?”

“I never wanted to in the first place.”

Drifting forward, you rest your forehead to his, the skin-to-skin contact rekindling the spark that burned so brightly not too long ago. “Eren.”

“I miss you,” he confesses. “Every fucking day.”

His lips graze yours, eyes watching you, waiting. Unable to hold back any longer, you kiss him, melting into him seamlessly. The two years of remorse vanish in an instant, and you’re transported in time, as if you were never apart. You touch your palm on his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping against your fingertips. He slides his hand around the nape of your neck, cradling you gently, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft on yours, prudent and delicate, careful not to overbear you.

You pull off to catch your breath, clutching at his t-shirt so that’s it’s bunched into your fist. “I missed you, Eren.”

He swallows loudly, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “I missed you so fucking much,” he mutters, driving his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you desperately now. He drinks you up like he’s dying of thirst, the only cure to his drought. You match him, opening wider, swirling your tongue with his. His lips trail to your neck, sucking on the pulse point beneath your chin.

“Eren,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair.

“I love hearing you say my name. Fuck,” he swears, licking at the spot. He marks you on the other side, nibbling lightly at your skin with his teeth. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Every day,” you admit, eyes closed as he moves to your ear, pinching your lobe between his lips. “And you?”

“All the time,” he answers. He breaks away, cupping your cheek tenderly in his palm. “I’m still in love with you. I love you.”

Your breath hitches, throat tight with emotion, though you manage to utter, “I love you too.”

He beams at you before suggesting, “Should we get out of here? Go to my place?”

Tugging at his collar, you shake your head with a smirk. “I can’t wait that long.”

Understanding what you’re implying, he suggests, “Backseat?”

You give him a wet smooch and a nod. He chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you that needy for me, baby? Can’t even wait to go home?”

Glancing at his lap, the evident bulge protruding from his sweats, you scoff at him playfully. “Don’t act like you aren’t either. Look how big you are already.”

He grins, exiting the driver’s side and quickly sliding into the backseat, spreading his legs wide, hoisting his shirt off to reveal his chiseled torso. “You’re right. I’ve been waiting two years, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

You follow him to the rear, shrugging your blouse and pants off hastily until you’re down to your underwear. He marvels at your bare figure, licking his lips while you kneel beside him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, scanning you up and down, almost in disbelief. “Would you think about me whenever you touched yourself?”

Nestled to his lap, ass sticking out, you nod, rubbing your face on the erection straining against the fabric. “I only thought about you, Eren.”

“Fuck,” he groans, mesmerized. He pets you, brushing his thumb across your cheeks. “Me too, sweetie. No one makes me come the way you do.” He lifts his hips to slide his bottoms and boxers down his legs, exposing his hard cock standing stiff and pretty, glistening with precum leaking from the tip.

You’re salivating, spit coating your entire mouth, hungry for his cock. Without wasting another second, you swallow him, surrounding him in your wet heat until he hits the back of your throat. He bucks up slightly, thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuck,” he swears, trailing your spine, gliding to your ass. “Always so good to me.” He slips beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. “Can I fuck you with these fingers? Please?”

You nod with his cock in your mouth, slurping the drool trickling on his shaft, bobbing on him. He slides one in, then another, pumping them in and out of you as you moan around his dick. He wriggles inside you, stimulating your sweet spot, gushing on his digits with your first orgasm. His follows immediately after, his load spurting onto your tongue, guzzling every last drop of him.

You release him, turning over so your head is resting on his lap, peering up at his face. His hand is between your legs, rubbing the soft plush of your thighs, smiling down at you. He teases your clit, flicking his wet fingers on it, causing you to whine.

“You still like it when I play with you like this,” he purrs, watching you twitch from the pleasure. “My good girl always comes so much for me.” He caresses your forehead gently, toying with your swollen bud. “Can you give me another one, princess?” Too many times do you remember him pleasuring you, sitting in the passenger seat, you gripping to his wrist, directing his hand to your pussy. Tonight is no different; he’s just as relentless, tapping away at you until your creaming for him once more.

“I need to fucking taste you,” he growls, slipping his fingers past his lips, licking them. “Sit up, sweetie. Ride me while you make me hard again.”

It’s clumsy maneuvering in the cramped space, but eventually, you get into position. He’s below you, slurping at your sopping pussy as you’re bent over his cock, licking the head as you stroke him off. The windows begin fogging up, the air sweltering and humid. Your knee digs uncomfortably into the cushion, the other hangs off the edge of the seat, foot planted to the floor. Eren manages to fit his impressive stature, one leg angled and stretched towards the driver’s side, the other laid across the backseat, enough space for you to blow him while you ride his face.

“I missed this sloppy cunt,” he muffles, spreading his tongue on you. He spits, smearing his frothy saliva across your clit, puckered around it, sucking.

Once he’s hard again, you beg, “Fuck me, Eren.” You’re close to another climax and you’re desperate to come with him in you this time. “Please.”

He laughs, lifting you off, his face glossy with your slick, covering his nose, mouth, and chin. “Whatever you want, princess.” He sits up against the seat, legs splayed like a throne for you to sit pretty on. You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy on his cock before guiding it into your entrance.

You both drawl out, “Fuck,” kissing messily, arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace. You ride him feverishly as he fucks up into you, gripping onto your hips tightly, bouncing you on his dick. You’re both sweating immensely, the temperature in the car sweltering, but neither of you mind it, too concentrated on each other’s orgasms, too addicted to the high you’re chasing together.

“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans, picking up the pace, his thighs slapping lewdly against your ass.

“Come inside me, Eren. Fill me up,” you whimper, pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead.

“Yeah? You want it? Take it then. Take it sweetheart.” His eyes are shut tight as he shoots his load, thick cock pulsing inside you. You ride out your orgasm with him, scattering delicate kisses on his face. He grins, gazing at you with a hazy expression.

“What’s that look for?” you ask, booping his nose.

“Nothing,” he replies, cheeks rounded into a bigger smile. He squeezes your face between his palms. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably happy right now.”

You place your hands over his, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”

You stay comfortably like this for a few minutes, Eren cracking the windows open to let out some steam. You joke, “So, are you still going to sell me this car?”

He chuckles. “How about I give it to you. I was going to anyways.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was supposed to be a peace offering. But I like this outcome way better.”

“Me too. But I’m not going to just take it from you. Let me pay you for it.”

He tips your chin to look at you, grinning wide. “How about you move in with me instead?”

“What?” you giggle, unable to contain your smile, thrilled by the suggestion.

“Move in with me,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose to yours.

“Isn’t this is a little too soon, considering we just got back together?”

He stretches his arms out, relaxing into the seat, smirking at you. “We already wasted two years without each other, I’m not wasting any more time.”

You scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

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wrenreid · 9 months

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Off Limits

Part Twenty-Seven

My freshman year of high school, I was put into a junior level government class. I was only in there because it was the only class that fit into my schedule other than ag classes I couldn’t have been less interested in. I didn’t talk much in the class because everyone was older than me, and they thought I was a kiss up because i always made good grades. I didn’t particularly love the class, but of course, I still did my work and did it well.

Toward the end of the year, we did a mock trial. We drew for positions within the trial, mr flynn the judge. I drew attorney.

The case was a business lawsuit, I was the lawyer who was going against the business for their supposed cruel acts.

Mr. Flynn told us that we would receive extra credit if we dressed up, so me, a fourteen year old with a desperate need for academic validation, borrowed one of my mother’s pencil skirts and a suit jacket from my dad. I looked like a mini Aaron Hotchner, even my mom said so.

I remember preparing for the trial for at least a week, being a little excited about the project. I wanted to win the case, especially since I was, as I believed, on the right side of the law.

My opposing attorney was Noah Kincaid. He was a smart but cocky kid who also cared about winning the trial.

I remember standing up from my desk when is was my turn to ask questions to the kid under oath. I felt as though I had stepped into myself for the first time. It was just a mock trial that lasted half an hour, but I felt proud and confident. I was good at it.

Mr. Flynn pulled me aside after class and told me I should consider law school in the future. He said, and I quote, “The way you handled yourself was the most confident and concise I’ve ever seen in a student. You surprised me, Hotchner.”

I didn’t take it to offense that he said my skills surprised him. In his defense, he’d only heard me talk when I turned in a paper or answered a question, which the latter was usually rare since I didn’t particularly like to “show off” in front of juniors who already thought I was a kiss ass.

I did, however, take his first sentence as a compliment. I was confident and my statements and questions were concise.

I smiled, nodded, thanked him, then left. A lawyer was not on my top five career choices at the time. I didn’t want people to think I was doing it because of my father. I was definitely not. But after some research and a few binge watches of crime shows, I knew I actually did want to be an attorney. Not because of my father but almost in spite of him.

My dad quit his job as a lawyer and took the job Agent Gideon offered him at the BAU. I resented him for it, still do, but that’s besides the point. He wasn’t around much in my most influential years, and at fourteen, I decided I would be a lawyer, and if I happened to have a family, I wouldn’t take a new job that prevented me from being there for them.

So now, I’m currently four weeks away from grad school and three years away from the BAR. And I’m going to rock the shit out of them both. Because I can and because I’m determined. It’s also way less about my unresolved daddy issues now than it was in high school and even some of college, it’s a dream of mine.

Spencer has made it his mission to make sure I enjoy the last month of summer as much as I can. He’s taken me out on a million dates like picnics, movies, late night drives around the city and out into the country, and more every chance he gets between cases.

At least now we don’t have to sneak around and lie about our relationship. Though I was prepared to keep this from my dad for however long necessary, I’m pretty glad we accidentally outed ourselves at my graduation dinner.

My dad cooked a big meal for me, some family, friends, and we invited the team too. Spencer and I didn’t even sit near each other. We barely talked the whole dinner just to be safe.

But as love-sick, horny couples do, when we saw an opportunity to take a minute alone, we did just that.

Having your father catch you making out with a guy will never not be awkward, but when the guy happens to be his employee, it’s fucking weird.

Though, I will say, the look on his face was priceless. I’ve hardly seen him have that much emotion on his face.

After a very awkward, flushed-face, and stuttered explanation from Spencer and me, we were able to calm my father down. He was a lot more excepting than I expected; I think he finally realized he can’t dictate my life, and he saw how happy we are together.

The rest of that dinner consisted of a lot of teasing from Derek Morgan, my brother being grossed out by me having a boyfriend, and everyone asking about law school.

I’m excited and anxious to start the rest of my life as a law student. I’ve prepared for this for nearly 8 years now, and I’m getting closer and closer to my dream career. It’s terrifyingly exciting. I’m grateful to have my family and Spencer by my side through all of this.

hey, so this is it for this story! this is also most likely it for my fanfiction in general.

and for a little life update: i started college a month ago, and i’m adjusting to my new life which has been interesting and scary and fun. im also in a healthy relationship and have been for a while which has been pretty amazing. i hope all my mutuals/ readers are doing well. thank you guys for sticking around :)

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @jazzerbelle14 @kylakins88 @f-me-reid @lovejules888 @marimorena06 @daph-421 @idkusername8787

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 months

Text

Recall - Part 2

WHAT THE F*CK IS PROJECT ASTER?

A/N: Not me sneaking this in under the radar while we're all riding the high of Pedro's SAG win. <- Actually, exactly this. I never meant for there to be such a long lapse between chapters but here we are and here this is - even if it is 695 years later. If you need to refresh your memory (I know I needed it) or you're just starting this series, you can catch up here. And if you want to come chat about this story or these characters, my inbox and messages are always open and I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts!

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: language, mention and description of gunshot wounds, even more angst than part 1, Jack Daniels and his Charm

Summary: You race back to the lab after receiving Ginger's message, only to be met with more questions than answers regarding Jack's progress.

You practically ran from the housing complex back to the lab, heart pounding and blood rushing in your ears the whole way.

Something is wrong.

Ginger’s message flashed behind your eyes with every blink. You had no idea what she meant, and that was what scared you the most. Despite the fact that Statesman had been developing and working on the Recall program for years before introducing it into standard protocol for all Agents, it was still relatively new technology. Preliminary studies were done on lasting effects of the nanites, of course. But the truth of the matter was that the program wasn’t old enough for there to be any real longevity data. Which meant that if there was a threshold for how many times the Recall program could be run successfully without causing damage, you didn’t know what it was… or if Jack had surpassed it.

How many times has he…

You were vaguely aware of one of the other Agents - Absinthe, maybe - waving hello and using your codename, but you were too lost in your thoughts to respond. Instead you kept walking, trying desperately to remember how many times Jack had gone through the restoration process. This was the second time since you had taken the position with Ginger, but you knew there had been others before then. You concentrated as hard as you could, trying to reconstruct the page in Jack’s file that had that information on it in your mind. That tactic had worked for you during exams in college and grad school - you’d close your eyes and picture your notes and pick out the answer you were looking for from memory. But the stakes weren’t nearly as high then as they were now. No matter how seriously you took your studies, adrenaline never coursed through your veins during a bio-chem midterm quite like it did as you made your way toward the elevator, and for all your concentration you simply couldn’t find the fact you were searching for.

Something else shook loose, though, as you stepped into the car and slammed the close door button - a memory of one of the countless times you’d shared that same space with Jack. It wasn’t just a random moment, though. As the doors slid closed and you felt the jolt in your stomach that told you the car was descending, you were struck with the memory of how it felt to hear Jack address you by your codename for the first time.

It was only your third day on Ginger’s team when the Silver Pony came in from New York, and you smiled to yourself as you watched it land smoothly on the runway.

He’s back.

The last time you saw Agent Whiskey, you were still working in scheduling and he had just been cleared to return to duty after being wounded on a mission. Duty, as it turned out, had meant an extended trip up north to meet with investors and sign off on some financial paperwork on Champ’s behalf. It was the type of work you imagined that an Agent like Whiskey hated. Not that you knew much about him. But from the very first interaction you had, you got the impression that he was a man of action, someone who preferred to be in the thick of things when things got thick.

And they certainly always seem to.

You didn’t know the full details of the injury that had taken him out of commission prior to the New York trip, but you knew that it must have been serious if the first thing he’d been assigned to upon his return had essentially been busy work. Though you didn’t like the idea of him - or any of the Agents for that matter - in danger, you were glad to know that he was back at HQ because it meant that he would be getting back to the kind of work that he joined Statesman for. The work that he did so well.

The path you were on, the one that connected the employee housing complex to the main building, joined with the path that led to the airfield, and just as you reached the juncture, you were joined by a pair of boots and the cowboy wearing them.

“Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes? First face I see when I get back happens to be one I was actually lookin’ forward to seeing.”

What? Me?

He grinned at you, and the heat that you felt climbing your cheeks had nothing to do with the springtime sun. “Howdy, darlin’.”

Me. Okay.

Recovering as quickly as you could from the unexpected attack of his charm, you cleared your throat. “Welcome back, Agent Whiskey.” You returned his smile as he fell into step beside you. “Was being in New York so awful that you actually looked forward to scheduling your training and testing sessions?”

He tilted his chin and leaned closer to you. “Schedules have nothin’ to do with it. I am genuinely glad that the first person I saw this morning was you and not Tequila or Vermouth.”

That made you laugh, but it also gave you the perfect opportunity to tell him what he’d missed while he was away from HQ. “Well -” You thanked him as he held the door to the lobby open for you, letting you enter the building first. “That’s good, because as of three days ago, you’ll be making those schedules with someone else.”

Glancing over, you saw his eyebrows jump, an intrigued glint flashing in his eyes. “Is that so?”

Another Agent - Absinthe, from the sound of their voice - greeted Whiskey from across the room, and you saw Merlot throw him a smile and a wave as she continued to speak to someone on her earpiece. Even though he acknowledged both of them, his focus remained on you as you responded.

“It is.” You grinned as you reached the security turnstile that restricted access to the elevators. In your previous position, this would be where you’d have to tell Agent Whiskey to have a good day before heading down the first floor hallway that housed the non-classified offices. But not anymore. Pressing your palm to the scanner atop the turnstile, you waited for the blue light to flash before looking back up at the man standing beside you. “You’re looking at Ginger Ale’s new assistant lab tech.”

You stepped through the gate as it opened, turning in time to watch him place his palm on the reader. He broke into a smile then that reached his eyes, the corners of them crinkled with the force of his genuine excitement as he followed you through. “Well hot damn, darlin’, that’s great!” He bumped your elbow with his, the brief touch sending a jolt through your stomach. “Congratulations.”

Letting out a flustered little laugh that you hoped didn’t give away the effect his proximity was having on you, you reached out to press the button to call the elevator. “Thank you, Agent.” You reigned your smile in despite the fact that you were still over the moon about your promotion and everything that came with it. “I’m really looking forward to learning from Ginger.”

The elevator to your left opened, the two of you moving towards it. “And I’m sure she’s just as happy to have the help.” He held his hand up to keep the door from closing as you stepped inside, then joined you. The door stayed open for a few seconds longer, but even though no one else came through it and there was no need to, he stood close to your side, the scent of his cologne hitting you as you inhaled. Goddamn he smells good.

You swallowed and selected your floor, the lab level lighting up on the panel. Hand still hovering near the buttons, you tilted your head to the side, silently asking what floor he needed. But instead of answering and letting you press it for him, he reached in to do it himself, the position of his arm further caging you close. His fingertips grazed your knuckles on their way to the buttons and you had to stop yourself from gasping at the electric feel of his skin meeting yours. Pressing the button for the floor that Champ’s office and the boardroom were located on, he withdrew his hand. As he finally took a step back, you could see the hint of a smirk playing on his lips that told you he knew exactly what he was doing. Shameless flirt.

That didn’t come as a big shock. Though you hadn’t worked closely with any of the Agents yet, you knew that some - if not most or all of them - had reputations around the HQ offices. Tequila, though capable in the field and loyal to the Agency, was known to be somewhat of an overgrown frat boy with a penchant for drinking games and strange dance moves. Merlot mainly kept to herself, unless you were to get her talking about her most recent needlepoint project, which seemed far too tame a hobby for someone with as severe a stare as she had. There was Absinthe, the toxins and poisons specialist who, it turns out, could have had a career in comedy had he not joined Statesman, and Bourbon, the quiet one whose quirk you hadn’t learned yet. And then there was Whiskey, the shameless flirt.

But where others rolled their eyes at his syrupy compliments and quasi-pick up lines, you found yourself charmed by his southern antics. And by him in general.

As the elevator car began to move, the man sharing it with you spoke, his eyes widening in realization as he looked at you again. “Wait. Hold on a minute, darlin’. If you’re part of Ginger Ale’s team now, does that mean that you’ve got a-”

Your groan cut off the rest of his question. “A codename?” Wincing, you wrinkled your nose and let out a laugh that was part sigh, part scoff. “Yes. Or, rather, Champ is trying to get me to go by one. I’m not sure it’s going to stick.” Because there’s too many jokes to make about it.

He cocked his head to the side, one hand resting on his popped hip just above the coiled lasso that hung at his belt. Your focus was involuntarily drawn to the sight of his thick fingers curled casually around the synthetic rope, but you snapped your eyes back to his at the sound of his voice again. “Oh no?” He tipped his hat back, pushing the underside of the brim with two of the fingers you’d just been staring at. You swallowed and shook your head. “Well maybe I can help give it some traction. Care to share that moniker with me? I like knowing how to properly address the people that I-“

“It’s Maraschino.” You pressed your lips together to keep from smirking at the way his jaw dropped open almost comically.

“Maraschino?” Recovering quickly, his mouth quirked to one side, pulling his mustache with it. “Like the cherry?”

You rolled your eyes. “Like the cherry.” Glancing up at the numbers above the door, you saw that you still had a few floors to travel before your stop.

“And just what about that name makes you hesitant to use it?”

Laughing, you turned to face him more fully, resting one hand on the rail that ran around the inside of the car. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe I’m not looking forward to being asked if I can tie a knot in a stem with my tongue.” A brief scowl crossed your face as you recalled a moment from the previous day. “I already overheard Agent Moonshine mumbling something about popping cherries...”

You weren’t sure why Whiskey was the one with the bad reputation for being a flirt, when Moonshine’s watercooler talk was as uncouth as it was.

That turned his tone serious, one brow raised as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so?” You shrugged and nodded. “In that case, it might be time to remind Agent Moonshine of his manners.”

You were just about to wonder if you’d said something you shouldn’t have when the lights above the door changed again, and the car began to slow to a stop - yours. “I… it’s fine, Agent, really, you don’t-”

“Jack.” You blinked as he said his name with a lopsided smile. “If you’re gonna be part of Ginger’s team then you’ll see my file sooner or later anyway, and I’d rather give it to you than have you read it off some screen.”

You sucked in a breath as the doors slid open, feet temporarily glued to the floor under Jack’s gaze. This is me. I need to get off. I have to- Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips as you finally responded. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jack.”

“Pleasure’s mine, Maraschino.” He winked. “And for what it’s worth? Call me old fashioned, but… I like it. I hope it sticks.”

Warmth rose in your cheeks and flooded your stomach as he addressed you by your codename, and right then and there you decided to keep it, Moonshine be damned. Though it sounds like that won’t be a problem for much longer.

Before you could respond, you heard Ginger’s chipper tone from the hallway calling you. “Right on time, Maraschino! Come on into the lab and we’ll get started. I want to show you the Alpha-Gel protocol.” You watched her press her ID card to a pad on the wall to open the lab doors, and then she was gone.

“Better not keep her waitin’ or she’ll get antsy.” Jack grinned.

“Right.” You laughed, bringing one hand up to absently roll one of the pearls on your necklace between your fingers. “You have a safe day, Agent.”

With that you left the elevator, feeling his eyes on you until the doors closed.

The memory from just over two years earlier vanished as the elevator jolted to a stop, the doors opening on the lab floor. The only thing you felt as you stepped through them was a cold shiver down your spine that you knew wouldn’t leave you until you were certain that Jack would be alright. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself as much as you could before using your ID card to enter the lab.

The lock panel beeped, the door sliding open with a whoosh, and as soon as possible your eyes were on him. Your ribs could hardly contain your heart as it pounded against them, the beat thudding in your ears, too. But to your immediate relief, he appeared exactly as you left him only a few hours before, and a quick scan of the monitors displaying his vital signs assured you that medically he was fine. Oh, Jack.

“You’re here. Good.” Your attention snapped to the sound of Ginger’s voice, the other woman adjusting her glasses as she crossed the room to where you stood. “That was fast.”

Grabbing for your lab coat, you thrust your arms into the sleeves and shook your head. “I came as fast as I could. What’s going on, Ginger? He looks…” Your forehead furrowed in confusion as you swallowed a tight knot. “Tell me what’s up.”

She nodded, deep creases cutting between her eyebrows to match the concern written on your face. “Remember when I told you that I had some files from Merlin to go over?” She pointed at the work station she’d been using when you entered the lab and started heading towards it.

“Yeah.” You nodded, following her at a clipped pace over to the main bank of monitors. But what does that have to do with…

On the largest screen she had Jack’s file pulled up, the page listing all of the programs, projects and missions he’d been a part of displayed alongside his Statesman I.D. photo. Many of them were from before you started working with Ginger, and therefore before you gained the level of clearance that you currently had, so you were in no way involved with them.

But I recognize some of those names because they were major milestones for the Agency.

Scanning the list, you took a moment to mentally tick off the ones you knew about. Project Rodeo. The São Paulo job. The Recall Program. Operation Card Shark. Project Whiplash. Jack’s file read like a textbook or a training manual on the most important discoveries and victories in the last twenty years at Statesman. You glanced over at the recovery bay to where he lay, still unconscious and connected to the machinery that would bring him back from the brink of death, and your chest ached.

He’s done so damn much for this place.

Not that you needed to read his file to know that Jack was an exemplary Agent, or a good man. There was a reason Champ had made him the youngest Senior Agent in Statesman history, just like there was a reason that you had let him into your heart. Turning your focus back to the screens in front of you, you vowed for the hundredth time that night that you would make sure that he pulled through. But just as you were about to question Ginger about what the files Merlin sent over had anything to do with Jack’s situation, something on one of the smaller screens caught your eye.

Wait a minute. That’s not right.

“This is…” Eyes narrowed, you shook your head as you looked over the information listed in the identifying features section. Every Agent’s file contained a catalog of scars, birthmarks, tattoos and other unique markings. It was used to keep track of injuries, to ensure that no one could easily impersonate an operative and infiltrate the organization, and - though you hated thinking about the final reason, you knew it was an important one - to identify an Agent in the event that they were killed in the line of duty in such a way that left them unrecognizable.

Looking quickly at the diagram, you realized that it was incomplete.

“Ginger, this isn’t right. It’s missing information.” You stepped closer to the bank of monitors and pointed at the diagram. It showed the scar on the inside of his right leg that he’d had since childhood, the smattering of freckles dotting his neck that you’d mapped with your lips, and a few other markings that you were aware of. “He’s got another scar right here.” You moved your fingertip to the area near the figure’s temple, tapping it twice. “And…” Turning to face the woman beside you, you let out a breath. “He’s got a tattoo on his chest. On the left side. I’ve… I’ve seen it.”

Her eyes widened behind the frames of her glasses. “A tattoo? Of what? When did he… Why wouldn’t it be listed in his file?” She shook her head, sending her short hair swinging about her ears.

“It’s a bundle of three wildflowers,” you responded, throat tightening as you remembered the last time you traced the delicate lines of those petals. “Asters. And-“ You shrugged, looking back over your shoulder. “I don’t know how long ago he got it, I just…” Trailing off into a frown, you watched Ginger pull up another tab from Jack’s file. “What are you d-“

You gasped at the image that appeared once she’d stopped typing, your right hand flying up to cover your mouth. Oh, fuck. A chill trickled sickly down your spine and you felt your heart plummet as you stared at a photo of the man you loved - his eyes lifeless and glazed over, a bullet wound blown through his chest. Jack…

Ginger must have heard your sharp inhale, because she immediately turned to you, apology clear in her expression. “Shit, Maraschino, I’m sorry I should have warned you. You weren’t… You didn’t see him like this when it happened.”

She gestured to the screen and you forced yourself to look again. Doing your best to bypass the graphic image of torn flesh and spilled blood, you focused instead on the date stamped on the upper left corner of the photo. It was from three months before you started working in the lab, and without having to ask, you realized that this must have been the incident that preceded the temporary transfer to New York that he had just returned from when you told him the news about your promotion. I had no idea that this even happened. He never told me about this and-

Despite your best efforts, your eyes slid back down to his chest - or what you could see of it - and you realized something else. The wound was situated just to the right of center, meaning that the skin of his left pectoral, though stained red with his own blood, was visible. There’s no tattoo there. There’s… he must have gotten it after this happened.

Minimizing the photo so that it was no longer the only thing on the screen, Ginger confirmed your conclusion by crossing the room and cutting open the snowsuit that Jack was still wearing lying in the Recall bay, revealing the delicate design of the three black and gray wildflowers inked there. “Shit.” She muttered the word under her breath, then turned to face you. “This is worse than I thought.”

Concern crowded your thoughts then, making logic difficult. What? It’s just a tattoo. How could… what does she mean? Stepping up to the other side of the bay, you swallowed. “Ginger, I don’t understand. What am I missing?”

She sighed and used one hand to adjust the arm of her glasses. “Agents are required to report any and all new identifying features including scars and tattoos. And Whiskey knows that. He’s the agency’s top ranking operative and currently our only senior Agent.” She shook her head. “He didn’t get to that position by ignoring protocol.”

She’s right. You sucked in a breath. “So you’re saying…”

“That he didn’t realize he hadn’t reported it. Or possibly that he thought he already had.”

Your eyes widened and your heart dropped like an anvil. Fuck. In your research you had theorized that issues with an Agent’s cognition - specifically the reordering and manufacturing of memories - could occur with repeated use of the Recall program, but you had yet to identify any symptoms or warning signs that would flag you or Ginger to the problem. Fuck, Jack. Your fingers twitched at your side and you had to physically stop yourself from letting them brush over the hair at his temple. What’s going on in there?

Steeling yourself for more bad news, you looked back up at Ginger. “What did you find in the files from Merlin?”

She met your gaze with a concerned expression of her own, and then crossed back over to the bank of monitors with you in tow. “Okay, well, you pretty much just confirmed what I was afraid of but…” There was a pause as her fingers flew over the keyboard and Jack’s Statesman file expanded to full screen view again. “So this is the file that we have on record for Agent Whiskey.”

You scanned it, rereading the same operation names and missions that he was a part of, nothing seeming off. “Okay?”

The keyboard clacked again with a few more strokes, and then an almost identical file popped up in a split screen view. “And this is the file that Merlin sent me.”

Immediately you noticed a difference. At the end of the list of missions there was one on Merlin’s copy that did not appear in the official Statesman record. Project Aster. As Ginger clicked through the pages, you noted several entries where the mystery project was referenced, including, to your horror, three instances where it looked like the Recall program was used in conjunction with injuries he sustained in the service of the clandestine op. The signature on all of the entries was an old one, and you realized that it wasn’t Champ’s, meaning that these entries, this project, pre-dated Statesman’s current leadership. “What?” You tried and failed to make sense of what you were looking at. “Ginger. What the fuck is Project Aster?”

She gave you a tight-lipped frown. “Right now? Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve never heard of it. And-” She attempted to open one of the tabs with notes under one of the entries, but the page wouldn’t open. Instead it displayed a message that sent a hollow feeling through your bones:

ACCESS DENIED. HIGHER CLEARANCE LEVEL REQUIRED.

It made no sense. There was no higher level of clearance. You sunk into one of the desk chairs in front of the monitors. This is bad. “How did Merlin find this?”

Pulling out the second chair with a sigh, Ginger sat beside you. “He said that he wanted to know as much about us as he could since we were the ones who brought Galahad back. I guess a healthy dose of skepticism is his M.O. and… and I guess he has good reason for that. I offered to let him look into our files since our organizations are working together now, but he said he preferred to access them on his own. He was able to hack our network, and it turns out that these files - our files? They were encrypted. That’s why Project Aster doesn’t show up on them.”

The full weight of the situation settled in your stomach. This could mean that Statesman is compromised. Or that Jack is. Or that- You squeezed your eyes shut against the onslaught of sinister theoreticals and tried to focus. “Well can he decrypt the rest of it?” Opening your eyes again, you pointed up at the screen. “Merlin. Can he-”

Ginger held up one hand, palm facing you. “He’s working on it now.”

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath that didn’t do much to steady you. “We need to get Champ in on this. See if he…See what he knows or-”

“He’s on his way here now. But I can’t imagine he knows anything about this.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t condone hiding information this important. Not if it has anything to do with the Recall program, and especially not in regards to Whiskey. They came up in the agency together. Champ was the former Senior Agent, they… No. He’s going to be just as in the dark about this as we are.”

You felt utterly helpless, a hurricane of information swirling through your head and none of it falling into place. Checking your watch, you saw that there was less than an hour left on the countdown, meaning that whether or not you solved the mystery of what Project Aster was or why it was hidden internally, Jack would be waking up soon. For the first time since he went down, you wished you had a little more time to figure things out before his deep brown eyes opened again. Because if there’s something going on that we don’t know about, he could be in danger.

If the combination of Project Aster and the Recall Program had altered Jack’s cognitive function or rearranged his memories, it could mean long term brain damage. It could also mean that he had become a danger to Statesman. And if the files surrounding Project Aster are encrypted… You swallowed. Then we have no idea if any of the other Agents are affected.

Shit.

The only thing you could do until Champ arrived or Merlin was able to get through the encryption, was wait.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know or you can fill out the form on my masterlist.

tags: @something-tofightfor @paracosmenthusiast @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @littlemisspascal @hellovanessax @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @writeforfandoms @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @novemberrain221 @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @Noisynightmarepoetry

#agent jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x you #pedrostories #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels kingsman golden circle #jack daniels fic #agent whiskey fic #series: recall #part 2: what the f*ck is project aster #pedro pascal character

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pixeldistractions · 2 months

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Selena was just glad that she had her darling Fabio. The dog has grown so much bigger in a few months, and now wears a long, flowing mane like his namesake. But that was the dog’s great glory, and Selena had nothing going on in her own life at all. Sadly, Andre wasn’t calling as much as she hoped. He wasn’t calling ever. She had initiated every conversation they’d had since August, and she was beginning to feel clingy and desperate. She didn’t like that. She needed to go out and get some fresh air, and her friends were happy to oblige.

The group of them dressed to impress, and they went out dancing. But they all teased her, “If you come out to the club dressed like Pollyanna, you’re bound to catch yourself a dork.”

They weren’t wrong, actually. Was it the plaid, the elbow patches, or the cable-knit turtleneck? Selena’s look did indeed attract a dork, but he was a very distinguished and professorial type of dork. To be honest, that didn’t turn Selena off, and she had no intention of telling him to get lost.

“Does that seat belong to your boyfriend?” he asked.

“I’m here with my friends,” she said. “Nope, no boyfriend. Not here, anyway. We’re long distance. I’m not sure it’s working out.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, looking like he didn’t believe it was a shame at all. “Might I borrow you for a chat then?”

They left the cacophony of the dance floor for a quieter place to talk. His name was Martin Harwood and he was the new visiting law professor at Sierra Nova University.

“I graduated from there two years ago,” she said.

“I just missed you. What did you study?”

“Culinary arts.”

“I admire that so much. I’m a terrible cook. But I suppose it’s for the best that I missed you. If you were still a student, it wouldn’t be right for me to ask for your number.”

His interest in her was nice, after months of neglect from Andre. He was serious, maybe a little smug, or maybe a little smarmy. She had no idea if he was nice or cruel, generous or greedy, honest or conniving. She knew nothing about him at all except that he was thirty-three years old and different from every other man she’d dated before. (Okay, fair enough, she’d only dated two men before.) But maybe she was in the mood to try something different.

Selena was unsure whether months of apathy on Andre’s part signaled the end of this tragic romance they were dragging through the dirt. Maybe she should just put them out of their misery. Except she was pretty sure he wasn’t miserable over it, only she was. She had really wanted Andre to be the one. She wanted him to call her in the middle of the night and plead for her and say that he couldn’t live without her another moment longer. But that just wasn’t happening.

She read too many romance novels, maybe. She’d filled her head with fantasies.

“Yes, Professor Harwood, you can have my number.”

And if he called her before Andre did, that would be Andre’s fault.

— from “postcards from grad school” (4/4)

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims story #selena #martin

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rosiesramblings · 1 year

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The Best Ex

Fandom: Stranger Things, Steddie, Nancy's POV

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Finished my first semester of grad school! Here's a small fic to celebrate.It's kind of a different style than what I usually go for. Lmk what you think. :) /gen /pos

Nancy Wheeler knew she was far from perfect. But, for all her faults (bossiness, impatience, her tendency to be a know-it-all - okay, Mike thank you for elaborating!) she considered herself to be a good friend to her ex-boyfriend, Steve Harrington.

It certainly didn’t start out that way. Nancy still felt a curl of guilt deep in her stomach when she thought of the cruel, drunken words she spat at Steve that Halloween, or the way he still winced when anyone said the word bullshit. But, after saving the world with her four times in a row, Steve had somehow found it in himself to forgive her. That was a gift horse that Nancy certainly wasn’t going to look in the mouth.

Here’s the thing: Nancy knew Steve. Like, better than most people. Her unique position as ex-turned-friend meant that she had access to information that few others did. And one such piece of information was just how much Steve craved physical affection.

It was obvious to her, the way he would lean into Robin’s touch when she fixed his collar, or the way he seemed to always be the last one to let go in a hug. Steve wanted to be touched, and no one was doing it enough.

At first, Nancy was stumped. She didn’t necessarily want to be touchy with Steve again - that just wasn’t the type of relationship they had now, and knowing the kids they would assume that the two of them had gotten back together, which was a conversation she wanted to avoid if at all possible. But it seemed too weird to walk up to Robin or Dustin and ask them to touch Steve more.

The perfect solution fell into her lap one movie night. The Babysitter’s Club, as the older kids had dubbed themselves, tried to meet at least twice a month, more to get high and shoot the shit than to actually watch movies. This particular night found Robin and Nancy digging through Steve’s parents’ extensive movie collection, yet to find one that they both agreed on. Jonathan and Argyle sat on the couch, being unhelpful, Nancy thought to herself when neither of them backed her up when she suggested All The President’s Men. Steve had situated himself on the other couch, stretched out, languidly watching Nancy and Robin argue with half closed eyes. Eddie strode into the room with all the grace of a newborn deer, nearly spilling the giant bowl of popcorn in his hands.

Eddie reached Steve’s couch and prodded Steve’s foot. “Move these, big boy, this spot has my name on it.”

Steve raised one eyebrow and made a show of looking at the seat in question. “Huh. Weird. Nope, nobody wrote Eddie Munson’s Spot on here. In fact, I figured that this couch was reserved for me, since this is my goddamn house,” he snarked, smirking and crossing his arms over his chest.

Eddie squawked, throwing a hand over his heart as he began a dramatic monologue about betrayal and the king’s throne. Nancy was suddenly struck with a mischievous idea.

“Eddie,” she said, cutting off his rant mid-sentence.

He turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, lady Wheeler?”

Nancy smiled, blinking innocently. “Steve’s ticklish.”

Steve’s eyes shot open in panic and Eddie’s in delight. “Nance!” Steve protested, trying to vault himself off the couch frantically, only for Eddie to throw his entire body on top of Steve’s, knocking the wind out of both of them.

Eddie recovered first, crowing in delight when a poke to the side had Steve recoiling with an aborted giggle. Without further ado, Eddie rained ticklish pokes up and down Steve’s torso, cackling madly. Steve, failing to wrestle his arms out from underneath Eddie, bit down on his growing grin and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Ohhh, Nancy Wheeler, Chaotic Good doesn’t even begin to describe you,” Eddie said, switching to rapid spidering along Steve’s flanks.

Steve puffed out his cheeks, desperately trying to contain his laughter, but Nancy could tell he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

“If you get under his arms, he’ll break,” Nancy said confidently.

“Would you just shUT uhuhuhuhuhup, Wheeler,” Steve yelped as, just as Nancy predicted, he collapsed into frantic giggles as soon as Eddie wormed his way under his arms.

“Not a nice way to speak to someone who knows all your tickle spots,” Nancy teased, watching as Steve’s already pink face turned crimson.

“Oo, I take it back, Nance, maybe Chaotic Evil fits you best,” Eddie laughed as he dug deep into Steve’s underarms, prompting a howl from Steve. “Any other tricks up your sleeve?”

Nancy pretended to think for a moment, taking her time as Eddie took Steve apart. Steve shook his head back and forth as Nancy tapped her chin.

“Nonononono, Nahahancy, plehehehease,” Steve craned his neck to look at her desperately as he laughed.

Unable to keep up the charade, Nancy grinned evilly. Steve might as well have given her permission. “If you squeeze his thighs, he’ll scream,” she told Eddie.

Immediately, Steve started babbling, pleading with Eddie, who evidently would have none of it as he reached down and squeezed the top of Steve’s thigh.

Steve exploded into laughter, almost bucking Eddie off of him as his hips shot towards the ceiling involuntarily. They quickly collapsed back down, though, as Steve’s energy sapped as his two worst spots were tickled at once. Tears of mirth gathered at the corners of Steve’s eyes and slipped down his cheeks.

Nancy caught Eddie’s eye and motioned for him to let up. Eddie did so, got up off of Steve, before lifting his limp legs and sitting down victoriously, placing Steve’s feet in his lap as Steve came down from his giggle-high. Eddie grinned at Nancy and she responded with a smile of her own. Then she mimed running her fingernails gently over the tops of her own feet, nodding at Eddie when his hand hovered, hesitating, in the same position over Steve’s.

Nancy looked on as Eddie ever-so-lightly brushed the tips of his fingers over the tops of Steve’s feet, and felt a warmth bloom in her chest at Steve’s responding tired, pleased hum. Eddie looked like he was going to keel over from how cute Steve was.

Steve’s eyes slipped closed as he focused on the tingly sensation. Nancy knew he wasn’t far from sleep; he was worn out. Before he completely drifted away, however, he mumbled in her direction, “And fuck you very much, Wheeler.”

Nancy snickered to herself. Oh yeah. She was definitely the best ex-girlfriend-turned-friend that Steve had.

#tickle fic #stranger things tickle fic #i am a fan of platonic stancy #they're better as friends and I will die on that hill lol #mostly joking #touched-starved steve harrington is a trope i will go for every time #tfb community #ler!eddie munson #steddie #tickling #stranger things

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eomayas · 1 year

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best friend • kms

pairing: minseok x gn reader, platonic lovers, best friend au

synopsis: a brief look into a 20 year friendship with kim minseok

genre: fluff

a/n: the thought of being a life long friend of minseoks sounds so warm and sweet.. so i had to write this rq!!

since you were 13, you and minseok became inseparable. back when you both were at an awkward stage in life: bad haircuts, ill fitting clothes, glasses. you two bonded one day at lunch over your tomagatchi that you’d been keeping alive for twenty days. he had a tomagatchi that he’d been taking care of for far longer, and saw the look of desperation on your face as your digital pet started to die.

what started out as a friendship built on taking care of fake pets blossomed into a real connection. it was fast forming, and one of your realest friendships to date. he was there through all of your embarrassing and monumental moments: your first kiss, your first heartbreak, bad hair days, bad moods. and you were there for him, evolving together.

you talked about your dreams together, during conversations where time doesn’t exist and you can’t tell if you’re really tired, or if it’s just late. he wanted to be a singer and dancer, to be on a stage. he was talented from the get-go, and you told him so. you supported him, because at that age everything seemed possible.

and it was possible. when he became a trainee, it was like you became a trainee. you didn’t have much money at the time, but you took him out to celebrate, just the two of you. you raved, telling him how he could be as big as shinee one day, maybe even bigger. you could imagine him up on stage in front of thousands, millions, singing the songs he wrote.

but you could see the doubt creeping into his face, his features going slack. “minnie, what’s wrong?” you had asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

he never beat around the bush with you, always told you what was on his mind because he could be truthful and honest with you. “what if i don’t make it, though?” he asked you, and that same fear he felt was transported into you. you never considered that—it wasn’t an option for you. you only saw snd heard success when he told you he had been picked up by an agency. “what if it’s for nothing?”

but it was for something, because he debuted four years later. four years, where you didn’t get to see him, and it quickly turned into six. by the time you were out of undergrad, and starting grad school, you were finally able to see him again. you had to tell yourself that he was just on a long vacation, and that one day he’d come home to you again and everything would be the same.

and it was, but it also wasn’t. he was a star now, an idol. he was in the public eye, being watched by everybody. he was older too, but his face stayed the same; the boyish smile he wore never fading. and when you finally saw him again though, it was like you were 18 again and he had just got the news that he was debuting. you couldn’t have been happier; you were 24 when you finally saw him again, but it was like time had barely passed between the two of you.

while you couldn’t see him due to his trainee days, you wrote him letters that you didn’t send each week. and when you saw him for the first time, you gave them to him. to your surprise (or not), he had done the same thing. that’s how well you two knew each other. even with years and time between you, you still managed to he in sync.

of course, you couldn’t read every single letter that day, so you two caught up verbally and in between conversations you were able to read.

by then, you were back like he had never left you, meeting all of his band members and hanging out like old times. of course, he wanted to keep you away from the camera and public, so you arrived places separately and left alone, but it was better than nothing if you wanted to go out to eat or go shopping. your traditions that you had as children persisted when he came over, movies and video games, and horrible food choices.

because of minseok, you were exposed to another form of life, to luxuries you could only imagine. but he had stayed the same boy youd met all those years ago, still teasing you over your crush on minho from shinee, even after he introduced you after his companies concert. you could barely look the man in his eyes, and minseok let it be known that you once had poster of hanging up in your room growing up.

on the topic of lovers, minseoks opinion always mattered to you. while he was away and you were in college, you didn’t have his opinion to rely on, and you’d never say it out loud, but you wonder if that’s maybe why you didn’t last with your previous partners. minseok always have good advice and had a good sense of judgment that you feel would have helped you when you were younger.

you had made an unwritten rule that your next partner had to be approved by minseok, and had to be okay with your friendship. it turned a lot of people off, seeing how close you and minseok were. people accused you of cheating, that there was always something more going on between you and him. it’s safe to say that you’re friendship was threatening to the people you were romantically involved with, but you weren’t giving up your relationship with minseok for anybody or anything. you knew you’d find somebody who could understand.

and you did, with your partner hyunjin. from the moment you met them, you ran back to gush to minseok like you were fourteen gushing over a crush you had in class. minseok knew right away that you’d probably found your life partner, and wasn’t shocked when the proposal came a year later. minseok was there for the engagement, wedding, and your children. they called him uncle minseok, and hyunjin looked at minseok like a brother.

the love you had for minseok was unmatched, and you don’t think it could be replicated. you loved him like you’ve loved nobody before, like a brother and then some. your relationship was built on trust and raw honesty, on commitment and on loyalty. if you were asked if you’d give your life for him, you’d say yes in a heartbeat.

#exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo x reader #exo x you #xiumin x reader #xiumin fluff #xiumin x you #exo fluff #minseok fan fiction

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violetmessages · 2 years

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Every single community character is bi and I will prove it here:

Jeff: he’s desperate for some kind of emotional intimacy, it seems obvious that doing it with men means more of a chance of getting that connection - he never does, mainly because he doesn’t realize he’s using sex as a way to cope, but he does realize that men are just as hot as women and he’s great at sleeping with them

Britta: she’s spent her whole life being accepting, the biggest ally, the one who goes to all the marches and parades but she can’t possibly be gay, she’s attracted to men. It’s not until she realizes how much she actually enjoyed kissing Paige that the realization that, oh perhaps it’s not *just* men pops into her head.

Annie: she’s always been so close to her childhood friend, close enough that when they were 14 they promised each other that they were going to go to the same college and then the same grad school then work at the same job and live in the same house forever and always be together. It doesn’t end up working, her friend goes to a “real college” and they lose contact (truthfully they had been estranged ever since Annie got addicted to pills). Her friend is married now and she’s totally not jealous at all until Britta points out that it’s not exactly the norm to want the kind of relationship that she clearly expected would happen. It’s only then that Annie realizes she’s bi and was in love with her childhood best friend

Troy: He grew up in a household where they didn’t talk about it, being gay was a sin, and he was always great with women - it’s not until abed shows up that he realizes what it’s like to have the most important intimate connection of his life. And he knows, this feeling, this love, it can’t possibly be a sin because it feels so holy.

Abed: he’s always known, it’s something that he’s known ever since it was possible to have feelings for another person. Love isn’t hard for him, he doesn’t need to worry or discriminate based on gender, love is freeing. Love is a warm hug from Annie and a day spent in the dreamatorium with Troy. Love is six other people who care about him more than anyone else has. Love is a signed Batman movie with extra footage and buttered noodles and special drink. It’s easy.

Shirley: she doesn’t realize it. Not until the group points it out. She’s a godly woman, a woman who prides herself on being a Christian, but she looks at the group and sees how happy they are, knows in her heart that being bi doesn’t make them sinful, and being bi herself doesn’t mean she’s going against god

Pierce: you’d never know on the surface. He’s the first to make a gay joke, he’s the old man stereotype to a fault, he’s has 7 marriages and countless other relationships with women. But he’s defensive. Too defensive on one day and it’s something he’s hidden from everyone, even himself. His father wasn’t a tolerant man, not in the slightest, and he had to be the perfect son in this, especially because he failed in all the rest. So what if the man he secretly loved was dying of a disease that seemed incurable. So what if it was his first love? A man he hadn’t even confessed anything to, a man who saw right through him and never once pushed him to say a thing. All he had to do was nod his head and pretend to agree when his father called it a plague that was richly deserved, that AIDS was a punishment from god. He turned his head and he never looked back because he was too frightened to see what he had left behind.

#community #jeff winger #britta perry #troy barnes #abed nadir #annie edison #shirley bennett #pierce hawthorne

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zhuzhudushu · 1 year

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I just read your navigation page thing and was just curious about what it’s like to be a speech pathologist? I’m in college and was looking at jobs to do with language and this came up. I wasn’t sure about it at first but now I’m considering.

Ahh! Yes I can talk about my field forever lol.

I will say it is SUPER different depending on which area of specialty you're looking into. I don't know what you know of the field but you can work with children or adults, from infancy all the way through elderly. I've worked with <24 hours old infant to my oldest patient who was 106.

You can work in nursing homes, hospitals, outpatient rehab, inpatient rehab, acute care, private practice, ENT or audiology clinics, NICUs (infant intensive care unit), school systems (K-12), and preschool/daycares.

In case you want to know: schools pay the worst (bc summers off are unpaid), nursing homes and PRN medical positions (meaning "as needed" - part time & no benefits) pay the most.

So... that's a lot. We do way more than literally anyone is aware of, even other healthcare workers.

All that to say, my experience is not necessarily the same as a speech therapist working in another setting.

I'm currently working in a small hospital, in both acute care with adults, and outpatient with kids. I like it, and actually just got a better job that's full-time outpatient with kids starting next month. I work with everything from children with autism, speech delays, articulation disorders, cerebral palsy, down's syndrome, etc. in outpatient, to strokes, brain injuries, dementia, covid/respiratory concerns, post-ventilator, head & neck cancer, or really any diagnosis in acute care.

So.. it's a lot lol. I really like my job. It's a lot of hard work, and grad school sucks ass. But with my new job I start next month, I will make enough money to live alone in my own apartment independently and still save some money. It's not a perfect field (it's literally 95% white women nationwide so... keep that in mind) and there's actually a lot of prejudice and ableism, but I hope to part of the change to fix it. It's a financially stable career, and a desperately needed career. If you love language/linguistics and want to help people, I would highly recommend it!

If you want language specifically (meaning you would be working more with language than speech/swallowing) then you're probably going to want either kids with language delays, which can be found in any pediatric setting, OR adult outpatient or inpatient rehab, where language-based and cognitive-based therapy is the most common.

I am always open to speech questions!! If you'd like me to expand/clarify anything I mentioned here (I tried not to use too much medical jargon but lol) or something else entirely let me know. Since I work with kids and adults everyday I'm a very general practitioner ;D

#answered #ask #anon #speech tag #zhuzhu rambles

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batmads-ao3 · 1 year

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Across The Universe

Detroit: Yuri’s done the math. He done the research and the consideration and the planning. This will be his last year of competitive figure skating, and this time next year, he’ll be moving on to grad school. No matter what, though, Yuri hopes to hold onto Victor in any way that he can. Even if he has to compromise and change his own dreams to do it.

St. Petersburg: Victor is tired of compromising. Tired of having dreams deferred, of stealing moments in the off season and after competitions to spend time with Yuri. The way he sees it, there are only two options: keep Yuri in competitive skating, or find a way to stay by Yuri’s side after this year is through. Because if there’s anything that Victor knows for certain, it’s that he’s never letting anything come between him and his soulmate ever again.

But how far are Yuri and Victor willing to go to protect the other’s dreams? And with a whole universe separating them, will a soulmate bond really be enough to hold them together when it matters most?

**Part Three of the Defy the Stars Trilogy**

Soulmates!AU • College! AU(kinda) • Happy Ending

Read Chapter Twenty-Seven here!

In whic Victor rings in the New Year, and both he and Yuri and forced to consider their seperate futures.

Posting every Friday (ish), chapter preview below the cut

Victor was in a holding pattern. That’s what it felt like. He kept waiting for life to happen to him. It was almost like he was at a net zero to the person he’d been before he met Yuri, but that didn’t feel quite accurate either. What Yakov had stressed to him the other night was true: he was better for having loved Yuri. He was changed. And even if he didn’t have Yuri in his life anymore, the impression his soulmate on him still lingered. But it wasn’t like he was ready to go out on the town the Zarya and let her introduce him to the first pretty face she saw.

At least he no longer felt shitty about life. That was a plus.

Right?

But the problem was he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with himself. He couldn’t stay like this forever. He wasn’t a machine. He was a person, with a life he wanted to live and enjoy. And he just hadn’t figured out how to do that yet. Or who he wanted to do it with.

“You’re dead to me. Officially.”

Victor glanced up to see Yurio standing over him. Ostensibly, they were at Zarya’s New Year’s Eve party. Mostly, Victor was just sitting on the zebra-striped armchair in the corner of her living room, sipping on his drink, smiling when people looked his way, and desperately trying to avoid having to make any small talk.

“I’m sorry?” Victor asked.

“You’re a pathetic waste of space and you need to retire since you’ve decided to give up on skating entirely.”

“And here I was, under the impression you’d be a least a little bit sad if I left,” Victor said. “I mean, I know you’re only in this for the other Yuri, but your words do sting.”

“I’m in this for gold medals, not to compete against any particular skater,” Yurio scoffed. “Competitors come and go, but winning streaks last forever.”

“Do they?” Victor asked. “You seem dead-set on destroying mine.”

“History will remember,” Yurio snapped.

“So…what? You want me to leave so you can get on making your mark sooner rather than later?”

Yuri snorted. “Please,” he said. “I’ll beat you next year easy, especially with how weak you’ve been lately. I’m just saying you should get out now to save yourself the humiliation. There’s no room in the field for old has-been farts who are only sticking around because they don’t know what else to with themselves.”

Well, that stung.

Victor sighed.

“Alright then, Yurio, if I can’t keep skating, what is it you want me to do?”

“Are you asking me if I solved your little problem?”

“What problem?”

“The Yuri problem. The one you asked me to solve. Don’t tell me you forgot? Unless he really isn’t that important to you.”

Continue on Ao3

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unbakehisbeans · 1 year

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I’ve been vegetarian since I was maybe 12-14 and vegan on and off until recently (as in I am committed to the ethical position of veganism). When I started off, it was fully for environmental reasons but I already kind of knew that I wanted to be vegan I just didn’t really understand how eggs and dairy would be harmful to the animals and also I was a teenager.

But at the same time, I had an eating disorder then and I’ve pretty much always been underweight and had trouble getting enough food to eat (I just have a really low appetite and OCD related food hang ups [ie being really irrationally afraid of choking/vomiting]). But the eating disorder predated my choice to be vegetarian/vegan, and I always understood that they were unrelated, because it was always about the ethics for me. So there was one time when I was 19 I think and I was like recovered from AN but having a lot of trouble eating because of stress and I was about to travel to Kentucky where I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat enough if I wasn’t eating meat, and I was really desperate because I was losing a lot of weight and couldn’t afford to lose anymore, and the stress of traveling always makes me lose weight anyway, so I decided to eat meat again for awhile and honestly, I thought most of it was really gross 😂. So then I went back to being vegetarian after I got home because I still wasn’t gaining weight even though I was eating meat and dairy and eggs and all that. And then because I was at home all the time because of the pandemic, I had a lot of time and space to eat enough food and so I was eating almost fully plant based and I gained a lot of weight and was really healthy and getting a lot of exercise and feeling fantastic. So I was like slowly creeping toward fully plant based and at this point I’m ethically vegan.

And then I move to another city for grad school and again I lose tons of weight because of stress and time constraints, but I’m still fully plant based. But because I’ve been struggling so much to just get enough to eat (just from being on the go a lot and not having a lot of time or a very big appetite) I do eat cheese and eggs sometimes when I’m out of my apartment. And I know that the reasonable thing to do would be to plan ahead and pack my own food so that I don’t need to eat eggs and cheese, but I am very bad at doing that I never remember and when I do OCD stuff makes it immensely stressful to eat, so I’ll eat what’s available as long as there’s no meat.

But like, even if I feel it’s necessary for me in some circumstances to eat eggs and dairy, im still vegan because you’re only ever as vegan as you can be, you know? As far as is possible and practicable. So I’m vegan and I eat a mostly, like 95% plant based diet, and all my wool is secondhand and I try to only buy vegan products (like soap and hair products and makeup and that kind of thing) which is neither expensive nor difficult, I buy cheap ass conditioner and my leave-in is Cantu which is vegan and my make up is all elf cosmetics. Idk if my shampoo is vegan bc I use medicated shampoo, and my birth control isn’t vegan, and I just get really cheap prenatal vitamins so idk if those are vegan (sometimes they use lanolin), but I use those things anyway because that’s what’s practicable for me and that’s fine, that’s still vegan. And like even bread and stuff can sometimes have animal products (generally unless you’re eating sweet bread it won’t have milk) but I eat like fortified bread and I think those sometimes have animal products, but I’m just…not that concerned about that?

I’m not much of a label-checker, and depending on what it is if it has an animal product that’s like really low on the ingredient list, I usually don’t care, lots of that is like byproduct anyway so I’m not super concerned. So I’m not doing anything extreme, I’m not spending a lot of money or depriving myself, I’m not an absolutist, I’m not martyring myself for the cause. My cat eats meat because she’s a cat and I’m not upset about it.

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floral-poisons · 2 years

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twst characters: what romance tropes your love story would be

i think it’s about time for some more original content since i have been doing requests recently. so here are the romance tropes i think your romance with the boys would be. also consider this a “what kind of tags would be in your ao3 fic” head canon list too.

honestly, i don’t even know if these are tropes. at this point i’m just making these up based on fics and movies i’ve experienced.

NRC STAFF

dire crowley

the beast and his contract. pining. hurt comfort. you venture into the woods, desperate to save your sibling from their illness. and you enter an opening where a little house resides. when you enter, the “beast” emerges. but he’s actually just a man who makes too many awkward jokes and talks about how generous he is. he’s not as bad as he seems. until he tells you what the price is. “are you willing to serve me to save your sibling? you can go home. but when i call you, you must answer or a terrible fate will fall upon your sibling.” what choice do you have?

ashton vargas

the sports coach and the single parent. pining. fluff. comedic. your child is a prodigy on the varsity team and their coach is none other than the famous ashton vargas. he’s charming and funny. and one day, he talks to you while you watch your child demolish the competition. you tell him you’ve recently been divorced and single for the past ten years. and he tells you he hasn’t been in a serious relationship in the past ten years. so maybe this is the start of opening up your hearts to each other. “would you like to have dinner with me this weekend? my house. it’s been a while since i’ve cooked but i’m sure we can have something enjoyable.”

mozus trein

rekindling an old flame. fluff. comfort. childhood sweethearts. would be something akin to vivir dos veces. recently, mozus’s life has been...less than exceptional. well, it’s been great! but after the passing of his first spouse, his mind begins to wander back to his first love: you. he went on to become a humanities teacher in the city while you stayed in the small town to become a math teacher. after contemplating it, mozus sets off on a roadtrip with one of his daughters to reunite with you. “so how special is this person?” she asks. “...very. it’s been so long since we’ve last saw each other. too long.”

divus crewel

the socialite and the workaholic. angst. unrequited love. the two of you have been friends since college. but does divus do anything useful with his degree? not necessarily. he works occasionally but the trust fund left to him fuels his life. you? you’re constantly working, building up savings and funds for when you want to retire. you’ve worked so hard that you’ve already been promoted to a high position. and yet, there’s nothing left for your personal life, especially your love life. and you’re far too busy to notice the lovesick socialite who’s been in love with you since college. “if you were to be in a relationship, who would it be with?” “why are you asking that question?” you laugh. “...just curious is all.”

sam

the foreign exchange student and the native. fluff. comfort. travel. you’ve decided to go abroad for an internship while in grad school. and you so happen to meet your roommate, sam, who’s here to help you get adjusted and show you around the city. at first, it’s great. the two of you get along really well and you’re able to balance work and social life. but as the work becomes more intense and the day you leave edges closer, could you and sam’s friendship survive? is it possible for you to confess your feelings to him before you leave? “would you stay here forever?” “with you i would.”

DIASOMNIA

malleus draconia

the dungeon master and the paladin. nerdy. fluff. pining. humorous. fantasy roleplaying was malleus’s favorite hobby and he was pretty open that he did it. a lot of people didn’t seem to understand that roleplaying wasn’t as nerdy as it actually appeared to be. you on the other hand? you were popular and you were afraid that people would see you as weird for enjoying roleplay (blame all those teen movies you watched constantly as a kid). your character is a paladin, holy art thou. and you were excited to go to the in person campaign session held locally. but when you enter the room, you’re shocked to find out that the dungeon master is...malleus draconia!? it’s too late to leave and you sit down, hoping he doesn’t recognize you. but he does and he reassures you at the end of the night that your secret is safe with him. he just hopes you come back for the next session. “you’re not surprised i do fantasy roleplaying?” “i noticed the, uh, warlord enamel pin on your bag. simple design that your friends probably wouldn’t notice. so i assumed you were a fan.”

lilia vanrouge

the co-teachers. cute. fluff. you have just finished your certification to be a kindergarten teacher! and no one to work with better than the lilia vanrouge! all the kids love him and all of his coworkers say he’s the sweetest man to ever work at this school. your classroom and children are chaotic, talking about family drama and even cursing each other out at some point. but as you two guide the children in the right direction, you begin to develop a bond. a unique bond. “did you ever have kids mr. vanrouge?” “(y/n), i told you to call me lilia.” “sorry mr. vanrouge. i mean, lilia!” “i have adopted kids. they’re out of the house now though. have you ever thought about having kids?” “once or twice, yeah.”

silver

greek life and the normie. humorous. pining. angst. comfort. you were a member of your greek life organization on the lookout for students to invite to rush week. on the lawn, you see a student that piques your interest. after waking up, he reveals his name is silver and you ask him to come join your organization. he says no and yet shows up during rush week to apply. he says his friend dragged him into it and coincidentally, you end up being his “tiger” (mentor) while he’s your “cub” (pledge). as the two of you grow closer, you learn that there’s a lot more to silver than he lets on. and he also likes to sleep. “what are you doing here mister? i thought you didn’t want to join greek life!” “my friend dragged me into it.”

sebek zigvolt

the delinquent and the model student. slow burn. pining. sebek zigvolt is uptight and follows the rules. he believes thoroughly in the words of his authority figures. you on the other hand are a free thinker. you don’t conform to the norms of your school and for that, you’re often targeted by your teacher. in order to try to help you, the teacher assigns you to be sebek’s partner. he’s far from happy from it, desiring to keep his perfect track record, well, perfect. as he continues to hang around you, you begin to influence him and he begins to question the authorities around him which the teachers don’t like. when something major happens at the school, you try to convince sebek to finally revolt against the authorities that keep him in place. “sebek! you know this is wrong! we have to speak up!” “(y/n), that’s easy for you to say.” “well fuck your perfect reputation! is your scholarship really more important than what is clearly right?” “it’s easy for you! you came from money! you can afford to go back to school like nothing happened!”

HEARTSLABYUL

riddle rosehearts

campaign rivals. high school romance. humorous. enemies to lovers. it’s only high school government. there’s nothing that special to it. other than the fact that you’re confident you’re going to become the future leader of the country one day. but ever since you were in middle school, you’ve been at odds with fellow overachiever riddle rosehearts. you just...hate his guts! always running against you AND ALWAYS WINNING! it doesn’t get any better when, in the middle of your campaigns, the both of you are forced to work together on a project. but as you peel back the layers of his supposed perfect life, you come to learn that riddle is a lot messier than he leads on. “you shouldn’t come to my house.” “and why not? we’re always at MY house!” “it’s none of your business.”

trey clover

the divorcee and the baker. fluff. comfort. rekindled love. you and trey were in love back in high school. but when you went off to college, you broke up with him to pursue a new love, a love you married. trey stayed in your hometown, taking over his family’s bakery. after getting divorced from your love, you return home to try to rediscover yourself. and you walk into the clover family bakery for the first time in ten years where you see trey, making a new dough for your favorite pie. “hey...” “(y/n)...is that you?” “yeah. it’s been a few years.” “a decade.” “has it actually been that long?” “yes. sit. let me get you a slice of mixed berry and a cup of chamomile tea.”

cater diamond

the popular boy and the social reject. pining. angst. hurt comfort. something similar to she’s all that. cater used to be your childhood friend. he used to be close to you. but once you guys got to middle school, he just left you for the popular crowd. you became a social reject, obsessed with your hobby and your favorite subject. after being dumped by his girlfriend, cater seeks out someone to make over, something to ease his bruised reputation. and he sets his sights on you. “hey (y/n)! long time no see!” “cater what the fuck do you want?” “why so harsh?” “you’ve literally ignored me for the past...i don’t know, seven years.”

ace trappola

friends to lovers. pining. angst. comfort. you’ve been in love with your friend for so long. but he’s so oblivious. no matter what you do, he doesn’t notice you. and the last straw is him getting a significant other. heartbroken, you decide to abandon your feelings for ace. but as his relationship goes sour and you enter one yourself, his heart begins to hurt every time he sees you. and his hands get sweaty. and he begins blushing. and...he realizes he likes you. “(y/n)...what if you’re not happy with the person you’re with?” “why would you ask that!” “...just a thought.”

deuce spade

roommates. pining. comfort. fluff. you’ve finally moved in on campus! it’s your first year of college and you’re ready for a new start. your roommate is deuce spade. he’s a little uptight but he keeps to himself, uses his own things, and keeps the room clean. you don’t think much of deuce until one day he snaps a bit and lets his anger get the best of him when there are students who won’t stop picking on you. gradually you become interested in him. but the idea of getting with your roommate is simply abhorrent! what if you guys get together and break up? what if you aren’t compatible? what if...you’re just good as roommates? “deuce, do you ever think about the couples that room together?” “yeah. i hear about it all the time. it gets awkward after they break up.”

POMEFIORE

vil schoenheit

the actor and the interviewer who treats him like a real person instead of a deified god. angst. betrayal. hurt comfort. you’ve finally landed the job of your dreams at your favorite media company. and for your first big story, you’re going to interview THE vil schoenheit! how exciting right? of course you’re nervous and yes you fumble during the first few minutes. you can see how bored he is with your generic questions. but as the interview continues, you begin to grow closer. and at the end, he asks you a simple question: “you want to get drinks?” but after your very successful interview and the clear connection you have with vil, your boss suddenly asks you to get the inside scoop in vil’s life and then publish a juicy story, going against everything you stand for. “people are so interested in my life...” “oh are they?” you ask nervously. “yeah. i don’t think many interviewers actually understand that...my life is nothing special.”

rook hunt

the boyfriend’s relative. hurt comfort. angst. pining. your ex has been...well, terrible. he’s been neglecting you recently and when taken to his aunt’s third wedding, he leaves you for some random person. you could only chug down cokes and eat crackers. suddenly, someone sits across from you. “lonely night?” “yeah...” you mutter. “same. my plus one left me for...well, your boyfriend. my cousin.” “cousin?” “yeah. i’m rook, roy’s cousin. it’s my mom that’s actually getting married again.”

epel felmier

the country boy and the visitor from the city. pining. humorous. you’re off, ready to go to your uncle’s wedding, sort of. he’s moving out to the countryside with his new husband where they will renew their vows. your car ends up breaking down and who comes to your rescue other than epel felmier, a local farm boy who helps his family run the apple farm. he provides you a place to stay and hot meals but in exchange, you have to help out with the chores. it’s not exactly your forte especially because you were from the city, born and raised. but as you continue to spend more time with epel, the superficiality of the city feels more distant and your bond with epel grows closer. “what do you say about going to a wedding?” “a wedding with mostly city folk? doesn’t sound like a scene for me.” “it’ll be fun! i promise.” “(y/n), i don’t think you understand. it’s a lot more complicated than you could ever imagine.”

SAVANACLAW

leona kingscholar

high school sweethearts who are going through a bit of a rough patch right now. long distance. hurt comfort. fluff. college really has separated the two of you. your love language being physical touch only makes the distance the two of you have to face much harder. leona promises you that you and only you reside in his heart. but seeing him have so much fun while he’s away makes you doubt him. and yourself. “i just...i just miss you.” “sorry babe. gotta go. someone’s asking for me.” “...okay...”

ruggie bucchi

the rich popular kid and the poor outcast. fluff. angst. established couple. i kind of imagine a little bit of a pretty in pink scenario here. the two of you were only classmates. but one day, ruggie is approached by you and you ask him to go on a date with you. completely random and seemingly out of the blue. but as he begins to fall for you, he soon realizes that you forgot to mention one thing: class. “hey ruggie. do you want to go out some time?” “uh...well, i...sure?” “cool i’ll pick you up at your house at 7.”

jack howl

the jock and the ballerina. fluff. pining. your worlds were too far apart to even comprehend. a jock who played american football and you, a ballerina. after an injury, jack is told by his physical therapist that ballet might be something to help him with movement and learning to balance himself. so he seeks you out, the leader of your school’s ballet dance troupe. “(y/n), i need your help.” “what for?” “...i need you to teach me ballet.”

OCTAVINELLE

azul ashengrotto

the merman and the sailor. pining. fluff. hurt comfort. working for the royal family, you are exploring the ocean in order to find an island that contains valuable minerals. however, you end up getting caught in a storm and wake up somewhere...underwater! but how could you possibly breath? “it’s magic.” a voice says. turning your head, you see a merman floating behind the bars of what appears to be a cell. but instead of a fish tail, he has eight tentacles. a sadistic grin crosses his face. “welcome to my domain mere mortal.”

jade leech

the secret lovers. fluff. heartache. dilemma. you’re a member of the upper class and since you were young, you’ve been attended to by your personal servant, jade leech. you don’t know much about him since you don’t believe there is worthy conversation there. but after discovering that the person you’ve been arranged to marry is cheating on you with their personal servant, you run into jade’s arms. you begin learning everything about each other. even that he has a twin brother who travels the seas! but when your wedding day comes, will you walk down the altar or run away with your true love? “take my hand (y/n). i promise i will never leave you. your wish is my command.”

floyd leech

the pirate captain and the suffocated aristocrat. adventure. humorous. pining. yes i am totally basing this off of my high fantasy head canons you’ve always wanted to explore the world. your mother keeps you sheltered and locked up. but the town is suddenly raided by pirates one day and crashing through your door is...a pirate captain! he’s cheeky and he has sharp teeth and he’s very handsome. your mother yells for you to get behind her but the captain offers his hand out. “would you like to join me on a voyage into the unknown?” and without hesitation, you take his hand.

SCARABIA

kalim al-asim

the prince and the broke college student. pining. fluff. you’re trying to survive college at a prestigious school known for its international relations program. sure you have a scholarship and lots of aid but it’s hard being at a school full of rich people who go out for dinner every night. one night, you go to the lounge to cook some food only to find someone else in there. “oh! sorry do you need the kitchen?” he asks. “yeah i do.” “well here! there’s enough space for two of us. i was just a bit homesick so i wanted to cook my favorite dish.”

jamil viper

the overlooked childhood best friend. fake dating. pining. angst. you and jamil have been best friends since you guys were in diapers. he’s been through everything with you. every victory, every failure, every heartbreak, every relationship. and yet after all these years, you still cannot see him. you have never considered him an option. until now when you want to get back at your ex. “are you in this with me jamil? you can always back out.” “i’ll always be with you (y/n).”

IGNIHYDE

idia shroud

the runaway groom. new love. commitment issues. pining. idia’s run away from his wedding! how tragic. but also, not really. he’s had so much trouble in love and while at an internet café, still in his tux, you sit down across from him. and you’re also in formal wear. “rough day?” you ask. “yeah...i guess you can say that.” “let me guess...you ran away from the altar.” “how did you know?” “because i did the same thing.”

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hongism · 3 years

Text

deal - k.hongjoong 18+

↣ pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader ↣ genre: fluff smut/nsfw ↣ wc: 10.3k ._. ↣ for anonymous: “hongjoong + roommates au + “Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That’s still up for debate.” for drabble game?” ↣ warnings: protected sex, nsfw, oral: fem receiving, lewd innuendos ↣ a/n: thank u so much to my besties my babies my beloveds @ppersonna and @uhmingi for reading and betaing this beast i love u both sm 🥺

...

rule number one: do not under any circumstances sleep with a roommate.

a rule you put in place several years ago, freshman year of college when your eye landed on the person you were assigned to, and it has never failed you in the six years since that moment.

your reasons for such a rule are simple: 1) no muddled feelings or relationships if you don’t fuck. too many people get involved in relationships that have benefits but no feelings and it tends to end badly when someone gets jealous or catches feelings for the other. so it’s easiest to avoid that issue altogether. 2) no annoying questions from friends or family. while you still do hear the stray ‘are you dating’ question here and there, it’s greatly avoided because you can easily say without an ounce of guilt ‘no, we’re not fucking and we don’t plan to’.

it works wonders for you — as it always has since the day you implemented it (not that any of your roommates have ever propositioned you for sex anyways but that’s beside the point) — and it has kept you for the most part out of emotional turmoil with your roommates. there was the girl from junior year of university who accused you of stealing her specially made face masks from japan but that turned out to be debunked the following month on account of her catching her boyfriend trying to smuggle one out of the bathroom. so all in all, you’ve done well for yourself with that rule, and any subsequent rules tend to be unimportant since you never cross that line.

here you are now at the ripe old age of twenty-four (“wow, you made it that far?” as your mother would say with each birthday that passed after you turned twenty) with a roommate who is simultaneously the most chill and the most high-strung man you have ever met.

kim hongjoong.

graduated art school at some fancy and prestigious place a year early after taking a full course load every semester and part-time in the summers all while working a grueling internship under some photographer who was insecure about his dick size. (hongjoong’s words, not yours). and if that wasn’t enough to make you mildly terrified of the man, he went on to tell you at your first meeting that he worked sixty-plus hours a week at his first job after college, only to get burned out so fast he wanted to send himself into early retirement right then and there. five years later at the lovely age of twenty-six, here he is: sharing an apartment with a twenty-four-year-old woman who barely knows how to keep her life together and barely graduated in four years only to decide that she hated herself enough to go onto grad school. you two honestly couldn’t be any more different from each other, but that’s life sometimes.

you needed a new apartment with a lax roommate who wouldn’t mind your late hours between work and grad school, and hongjoong needed someone who let him take up space with his art projects and photography. and who didn’t complain about the near-constant lo-fi k-rnb music constantly playing throughout the apartment. so while you could not be more different, the two of you needed each other desperately, and that’s what started your whole roommate arrangement a year and a half ago.

it’s that same soft k-rnb music that plays throughout what you call home now as you step through the door at one o’clock in the morning, bag slung over your shoulder. the lights in the hallway are still on, causing a funky yellow light to filter across the apartment in some areas. hongjoong is nowhere to be found, but you catch his speaker on the living room table with its lights strobing in time to the music.

at first, coming home to such a scene was a hard adjustment. it was different for sure but mostly shocking for you to go from having to sneak like a bandit through your apartment to get inside, take a shower, eat something, and get ready for bed in complete silence to being able to freely go about your business without worrying about waking your roommate. now, you take full advantage of hongjoong being awake and fling your bag onto the couch before heading into the kitchen for your evening tea.

“y/n, y/n, y/n!” you don’t look up from the kettle in your hand despite the sudden intrusion. hongjoong makes himself known moments later as he pops up at your side with a cheeky grin and dark circles decorating his under eyes. “brilliant news. well, mildly brilliant. you might be upset, actually. please don’t be upset.”

“you know when you lead with ‘please don’t be upset’, that only makes me more concerned about what you’ve possibly done?” you mumble, finally glancing over at him out of the corner of your eye. he smiles back at you despite the nasty side-eye you’re sending his way.

“well, then next time i’ll lead with ‘the plumber is coming in the morning because i accidentally dumped paint down the drain again and now there’s a clog in the bathroom sink’!”

“again?!”

hongjoong ducks out of the way as you reel on him, almost expecting the swift swing of your fist into his arm but not dodging completely before you hit him.

“listen, i have a defense. i was on the phone with yunho so i wasn’t entirely focused on what i was doing and dumped paint down the drain on accident.” hongjoong moves over to the pantry, and you leave him to it this time, returning to your kettle and putting the fresh water on the stove to heat up.

“how many times do you have to do something before it stops being an accident?” you mumble more to yourself than to your roommate, but hongjoong pops back up at your side a moment later with a lollipop dangling between his lips. “it’s one in the morning, why are you eating sugar?”

“let me live my life! you know it’s a substitute for cigarettes,” hongjoong retorts. your hand stops halfway to his face and drops back to your side without a fight. better than the alternative. i just have to remind myself that it’s better than the alternative. “anyway, to answer your question, seven and a half times.”

“what — why seven and a half?”

“that’s how many times my ex and i slept together before we started dating.” hongjoong tugs the lollipop out with a wet pop, teasing the top with the tip of his tongue as he sends a wink your way. “we called it an accident every time before then!”

“…how do you only sleep with someone halfway?”

“tragic interruption before i could, you know—” he cuts himself short to make a crude gesture with his hands, and a laugh erupts from his lungs when you scowl at the childish antics. “but in any case, i figured i would warn you before you come out of your room all scantily clad.”

“that was one time!”

“i’m sure the exterminator remembers that one time very well.”

even though the incident where you walked out of your room in only one of hongjoong’s old paint-stained t-shirts and a pair of panties that (according to hongjoong) “rode so far up your ass crack that he could see the grand canyon between your ass cheeks” happened almost eight months ago, hongjoong has yet to let it go.

“you seem to remember that one time way too vividly. are you sure you’re not jerking off to the thought of me dressed only in your shirt and a pair of underwear?”

“you wish!” hongjoong calls out over his shoulder as he departs from the kitchen. all you can do is shake your head at his back, too tired to come up with any sort of retort to that.

the other thing about living with kim hongjoong is having to live moments just like that.

while the two of you don’t fuck perse, there is certainly no shortage of flirtatious conversations and remarks, including the time where you had to explain to a friend that you don’t wear his shirts because you fuck — he offered them to you when you started complaining about having to shop in the men’s section for nightshirts because the women’s section only offers tight-fitting shirts that were uncomfortable to sleep in. it’s normal, something frequent and regular for the two of you. sure, it’s something that can leave some room for interpretation: some people see it as a romantic thing, others can recognize it as merely something that happens when you live together. the flirting, the sharing of clothes, the sharing of a blanket during movie night — it’s normal.

your tea is long forgotten, the kettle is whistling away on the stove by now, and yet you are standing in front of the stove glaring holes into the wall like it’s done something awful and terrible to offend you. (in reality, the only person you have to blame for this train of overthinking and slight insanity is yourself).

rule number two: do not entertain the thought of being in a relationship with a roommate.

…

“good morning! how’s my favorite couple doing?”

choi san, as annoying as he can be, is actually one of your closest friends. right now, however, you would truly love to punch him in the nose in the middle of this cafe. it’s only a small reach across the counter, the register can’t protect him from your punch either, so it would really be a piece of cake to do something as simple as that. you refrain with the last shred of patience in your being instead and opt to send a strained smile in his direction. hongjoong is the one to speak up from the spot where he stands beside you, hands buried deep in the pockets of his newly reformed jean jacket (the project he was working on when he ruined the sink drains again, as it turns out).

“san, how many times—”

“mhm, still in denial i see. that’s okay. we’ll work on it. what can i get you both?”

“you know our order by now, don’t you?”

“our?” san echoes, glancing up at you when you speak. your smile falters at the blunder.

“hongjoong owes me for making me wake up early on my only day off work and school,” you argue as you bring your arms up to cover your chest. “and for having to explain to the plumber why our drains are such a wreck.”

“that was — what? almost two weeks ago? are you still bitter?”

“he saw my bra, hongjoong!” you retort, hissing the words through your teeth so the people behind you won’t overhear too. san offers a barely concealed laugh as he taps away at the register, no doubt putting in your usual orders. “this is the exterminator all over again!”

“okay, first of all, i see you in your bra every single day and you don’t complain. secondly, he saw it on the floor. and third — the exterminator saw a whole different level of—”

“compare my ass to the grand canyon one more time and i will personally set you on fire.”

“you two bicker like an old married couple. it’s disgustingly domestic honestly.” san scowls as he takes hongjoong’s credit card then shakes his head at thin air like he’s having some odd internal debate with himself.

“you don’t have to make it weird,” hongjoong retorts through a scoff. it’s light-hearted as always though and you know there’s no real venom to it.

when the two of you finally get your drinks and find a small table to sit at, hongjoong whips out his laptop and immediately gets to work. it’s typical of him to do things like this: work endlessly on whatever new and budding idea comes to mind and frantically try to get it all out of his brain before the ideas vanish into thin air. you’re accustomed to sitting across from him and not doing anything. simply watching. observing. admiring, on some odd days.

it’s not admiration in the sense that it’s… romantic. rather, it’s something to look up to, a goal to achieve, seeing someone who has achieved the things you want to achieve. hongjoong’s work ethic is nothing to be shy about. yours is nothing to write home about.

once you finish up with grad school you’ll go off and find some mediocre job to pay off the student loans and leftover bills. who knows whether hongjoong will be part of that life or not. he’s more of a free bird — in case that wasn’t glaringly obvious. some days you wish you could be him, and others, you wish you didn’t compare yourself to him so much.

“penny for your thoughts?” hongjoong chirps after your staring drags into daydreaming and you’ve been looking at him for god knows how long without blinking.

“i’ll give them to you for a dollar,” you sing back before taking a sip of your coffee. your gaze falls to the side, over to where san is greeting customers by the register. he changed his hair recently. undercut, dyed black after his hot pink stint. it suits him.

“you drive a hard bargain, miss.”

“i’m running a business here, sir. i can’t be giving away my thoughts for one cent!”

hongjoong smiles from ear to ear, lips folded into a soft-sided smile that has your thoughts short-circuiting and your throat closing up a little. you may not be… interested in him in that way, but you certainly aren’t blind and good looks are good looks. hongjoong could easily be a twelve out of ten.

“oh, before i forget, what time are you getting home tonight?” hongjoong inquires, lifting the pen in his hand to aim it at your face.

“well, i don’t have anything planned, so probably after the grocery run? five-ish?”

“hm, okay, i have a dinner date at eight and i was gonna bring her home with me after.”

“oh,” you echo. another thing that’s not new with hongjoong. he’s what some would call a serial dater. you think it’s because he’s too much of a free spirit to be tied down by the shackles of a painstaking relationship that can either suck the creativity from your bones or leave you with a muse. (you’ve definitely been reading too many of hongjoong’s old poetry textbooks, to be honest, you never say things like that even to yourself). “that’s fine. i can — i’ll c-check with san? yeah, i can crash at his place tonight.”

you don’t particularly enjoy the idea of being home while hongjoong bangs his date to high heaven and back. you made that mistake once and got around fourteen minutes of uninterrupted sleep because his partner was screaming bloody murder from the room across the hall. it was a bit traumatizing, looking back.

“you sure? i don’t mind cutting my date short. i’m sure she… well, i don’t wanna be mean but i don’t think it’ll work out. she’s just interested in a quick fuck, and i’m there to provide it. she’s not — my type, she’s not my type really.” hongjoong shrugs to cover his blunder but you don’t miss the stumble of words and hesitance in his tone. you choose not to comment on it. whatever it is, you are probably better off not knowing even a little bit about what it means.

“meh, go for it. you’ve been extra horny recently so i can tell you need to get your dick wet.” you give a quick shrug, not thinking much about your words before speaking them, and luckily it’s hongjoong across from you and not some other roommate who would question you for saying such a thing. this is just how you and hongjoong are. “i’ll check with san and see if he has plans tonight.” hongjoong flicks a grin your way before sipping at the edge of his cup. you’ve seen that specific glint in his eyes too many times to count. “don’t.”

“i didn’t say anything!”

“i can hear you thinking something nasty.”

“excuse you — is wanting my roommate to get dicked down nasty?”

“um, yeah?”

“lies. you should be glad i’m not suggesting yunho.”

“i would never sleep with yunho and you know that!”

“wrong. i know you would choose him over me if it came down to it.” hongjoong points an accusatory finger at your face, squinting harshly as you begin to roll your eyes. “see. that confirms it.”

“that confirms nothing, dimwit.”

“and now you’re getting defensive! y/n, darling, my beloved, sweetheart—”

“you said you would stop calling me things in public!” you swing at his shoulder from across the table. heat rises on your neck and reaches your cheeks, bringing blood to your face. you frantically glance over to where san still stands behind the register, eyeing him to see if he overhead hongjoong’s rambling.

“so you do wanna sleep with san then!”

if san wasn’t looking before, he most certainly is now because of how fucking loud hongjoong just screeched that.

“shut up!”

…

as it turns out, san did indeed have plans that night so you were unfortunately unable to crash at his place to avoid hongjoong’s sexual escapades. then apparently hongjoong told yunho that san told him that you needed a place to stay (even though hongjoong knew full well that you did) and of course then yunho offered his place at the cost of having to spend the night with four very drunk friends of his along with “an unfairly pretty boy who deserves to be wined and dined then eaten out like a five-course meal” (yunho’s words, not yours). you chose to opt out of that… excursion mostly to spare yourself any further details about yunho’s newest boy toy before yunho got even more explicit with alcohol in him.

thus, you spent the night at your home anyway and simply shoved headphones into your ears the minute you heard the front door open. there was no point in waiting around for the moaning to start (and knowing hongjoong he would make it start early because you’ve made that mistake before). and in the morning, his mystery girl was already gone without a trace, leaving not even the faintest mark on hongjoong. even when he paraded around the kitchen clad in nothing but a loose pair of boxers while you prepared coffee and eggs for the both of you, you couldn’t see a single hickey marring his skin.

if you were to think too hard about it, you would point out that he never has marks after sleeping with someone.

if you made the smarter and more logical decision, you would ignore that fact and continue on in blissful ignorance to any of hongjoong’s bedroom habits.

thus, you do exactly that and carry on with your week without thinking twice about that incident or the glaringly apparent lack of marks on hongjoong’s skin. the girl never comes back, and he doesn’t bring her up again. for once it seems that hongjoong truly did have a clear cut, one and done fuck. (for once meaning that yunho’s friend wooyoung came over at least four more times after you first walked in on him and hongjoong fucking over the back of your couch — you didn’t sit on that stupid couch for over a week and forced hongjoong to wash it in front of you to make sure it was extra clean).

you think it would be quite the feat to never think about hongjoong’s sex life given the fact that he’s so… upfront about it with you. you appreciate the warnings and the genuine consideration he puts into making sure you’re okay with him having sex in the apartment: you’ve accepted that much. it’s the endless flirting he puts out with you that is starting to dig a bit under your skin.

take monday morning for example. you ran into each other in the kitchen. you were in a rush to get out the door for class, throwing a thermos of coffee together while hongjoong moved around you to get a cup for himself after a gross all-nighter spent on a new project.

typical.

hongjoong put his hand on your hip as he slid between your body and the counter to get to the fridge.

nothing new, at least for the two of you.

then he full-on smacked your ass, complete palm-to-cheek contact without even trying to make it seem inconspicuous. he practically spanked you in the middle of the tiled kitchen over a granite countertop and in front of the tiny succulent sitting in the windowsill above the sink. your child, mind you, only made worse by the googly eyes that hongjoong glued on the pot trembling when you lurched against the counter with enough force to bruise your hips.

“hongjoong!” you had hissed over your shoulder, too flustered and embarrassed to face him head-on. the succulent’s beady little googly eyes stared right back at you.

“sorry. your ass looks way too good in those jeans to not touch it. you know i’ve always wanted to go to the grand canyon?”

“god, hongjoong, comparing my ass to a canyon isn’t a compliment!”

the rest of the day went by without another incident although your hips were indeed bruised by the evening and you didn’t let hongjoong hear the end of those complaints until his next offense on wednesday night.

wednesday, of course, being movie night when you don’t have a large workload to deal with, which you were lucky enough to avoid this week. you forgot the name of the movie within five minutes of it starting and didn’t care enough to try to remember it. you moreso enjoy just getting to sit and laugh at bad acting and failed plot with hongjoong over anything else. and you truly did enjoy just that. until a sex scene came on in the movie. typical. lots of nudity. also typical. neither you nor hongjoong are immature to a point where that sort of thing is awkward for either of you. hongjoong, however, took it upon himself to grade the sex scene and mimic the male lead’s moans, saying he would do a much better job. you are just one woman. one poor poor weak-willed woman who loves the sound of moans a little too much, and even you are not invincible to your roommate moaning with too much authenticity right beside you.

he allowed you another precious break from the sexual tension on thursday, mostly because you made a point to stay out of the apartment until the echoes of his moans were far gone from your mind. friday was much tamer than wednesday, and thank goodness for that; you aren’t sure you would have survived another incident like that one.

friday did, however, bring about a very touchy-feely side of hongjoong. in the kitchen, in the living room, on the way to the bathroom, in the grocery store, while he was driving to and from said grocery store — hongjoong seemed utterly unable to keep his hands off you, which was odd considering how he is not the physical one between the two of you. you’re the one who likes a bit of skinship here and there but hongjoong? hongjoong never initiates it to that degree. from innocent brushings of shoulders to lacing your fingers together to a few stray touches to the outside of your thigh while you were in the car and he “missed” your hand trying to hold it. nothing like when he smacked your ass and tried to cop a feel right after, but enough to leave you jittery and more than a little on edge.

needless to say, by the time saturday comes around, you are pent up and buzzing with unexplained sexual energy that needs to burst so badly you might actually give yunho a run for his money. hell, if he wasn’t so infatuated with his current fuckbuddy/partner-to-be/boy toy/whatever-the-hell-he-is, you would probably just ask yunho to dick you down so you can get the tension out of your system.

right now though?

right now it’s eight o’clock on a saturday night and you are tucked into one of the old and fraying armchairs in the living room with both hongjoong and yunho sitting across from you on the couch. yunho (or yunho and a few other friends) come over from time to time on saturdays, but not ever after a full week of heightened sexual tension and flirting between you and hongjoong.

“let’s play a game. truth or dare?” yunho is the one to interrupt the silence hanging between your small group. the tv runs in the background, providing a white noise that keeps you from losing your mind, but his voice draws your attention away almost instantly.

“what are you, five?” you retort through a scoff. you nearly laugh when yunho’s lips draw up into a childish pout, the expression dramatized significantly in a way that only proves your point further.

“eight inches actually, but you can fact-check me if you don’t believe it.”

air catches in your nose and you choke around nothing. yunho tosses his head back with a crystal clear laugh. hongjoong cuts through the sound in a way that has you sitting up straight in sheer shock.

“just start the damn game.”

you exchange a nervous glance with yunho, both of you caught off-guard by the sudden intensity to hongjoong’s tone, but yunho drops his nerves just as quick it seems because he shrugs and turns back to your roommate with a lopsided grin.

“fine, let’s make it strip truth or dare. deny a question or dare and one piece of clothing has to go.”

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you’re trying to get a threesome out of this,” hongjoong drawls from where he’s sat across from you.

“i certainly wouldn’t say no to that but yeosang did invite me over for a second date so i’ll hold off for now.” yunho widens his grin a bit.

“yeosang? lucky bastard.”

“which one of us is the lucky one?”

“not yeosang, that’s for sure,” you chime in, muttering the words under your breath so yunho doesn’t catch them. hongjoong does, on the other hand, and he snorts back at you while yunho glares between the both of you.

“okay anyway, hongjoong, truth or dare.”

“truth. i already know you’ll ask me to start stripping if i pick dare.”

“no fun! fine, top three favorite things to do in the bedroom. or outside the bedroom if that’s more your style.”

“are all the questions gonna be perverted?” you whine, hiding your face behind the half-empty vodka-whatever-the-fuck-it-is that yunho put in your hand earlier in the night.

“first you call me childish and now i’m being too perverted? make up your mind, woman!”

“it’s really no big deal,” hongjoong cuts in. he bears a smile, one that stretches his cheeks from corner to corner, and you find yourself stuck to the sight of it. “i’m not shy.”

“better call itzy.” yunho points both index fingers at hongjoong, laughing along to his own dumb joke before toppling over on the couch. he clutches his stomach as though in pain, no doubt simply overdone on his own humor and not seriously hurt in the slightest.

“top three things during sex: eating my partner out, marking — thighs in particular if i’m being picky, and a bit of manhandling. giving on that one.” hongjoong stares you down in such a way that it makes your skin itch and burn. it’s like he sinks straight through your body and buries into your soul. you shift in your seat, thighs pushing together to quell the surge of heat that floods your gut. hongjoong doesn’t stop there; no, apparently he hasn’t had enough because he stares you directly in the eye when he smiles next. “i’m very much an ass guy, but i think that much is obvious. holding someone down on top of my face while eating them out with my hands on their ass… it can’t be beaten.”

you can’t maintain eye contact any longer. your mind is caving in on itself, sending you back to the morning where hongjoong touched your ass in the kitchen, and his words leave so little to the imagination that your whole body is flushing with embarrassment from head to toe.

yunho whistles low between his teeth.

“you’re a demon.”

“you flatter me. but now i’d like to ask y/n something.”

you know deep down that hongjoong wouldn’t make you do anything too far out of line if you were to say dare, and even if he did, you could get out of it easily by just stripping yourself of your hoodie. but this is your pride on the line. the easy way out is not an option.

“truth or dare, y/n.”

“truth,” you mutter, bringing your gaze up from the floor, at last, to look hongjoong in the eye. it’s no easier than before, especially not with the borderline dangerous glint to his stare. he leans forward upon hearing your response, and his elbows come to rest against his knees.

“how many times have you had sex since we became roommates?”

you’re of half a mind to strip now because that’s the last question you expected from him. yunho’s eyes nearly bulge right out of his head, but hongjoong’s face hardly shifts in the slightest. you grit your teeth and force a neutral expression.

“why do you want to know, hongjoong?”

“because i’m borderline concerned at this point. you rarely get out as it is so i’m assuming that means you aren’t getting fucked in any capacity. i mean, there’s no shortage of willing parties. yunho, me, san would be more than willing as yo—”

“stop it. how many times do i have to tell you that there’s nothing going on between us?” you sigh, letting the exasperation slip through in your tone. hongjoong arches a brow.

“maybe nothing is going on right now, but it sure as hell could be. that’s not the answer to my question though, y/n.”

“zero, kim hongjoong,” you hiss out between your teeth. you throw back more of your drink before you can catch the expression that covers his features, not too keen on seeing whatever it would be anyway.

“wait, wait, wait,” yunho cuts in as he leans forward on the couch cushion he’s currently teetering on. “zero? as in you haven’t fucked around in over a year and a half?”

“it’s hard to fuck when i’m a full-time grad student with a job. i barely get time to myself as is, and i’m never keen on spending that free time browsing dating apps or trying to meet new people.”

yunho and hongjoong blink at you with equally blank faces for several seconds. then, they slowly turn to each other and blink a few more times. you brace yourself for whatever dumb idea is about to come out of their mouths, but somehow you still aren’t ready for what actually happens. both men lift a hand, index fingers extended and pointing at air before landing on hongjoong’s face.

“oh, absolutely not,” you say without an ounce of hesitation. yunho releases a huff of air.

“oh, you’re no fun. fine. between me and hongjoong, who would you rather fuck?”

“are you propositioning me right now?!”

“well, that depends on your answer!” yunho quips in response, dropping a foot to the hardwood floor with a huff.

“you.”

“oh? that was quick.”

“well, i don’t fuck roommates. it’s not… i don’t know, it’s just not something that i’ve ever thought about or that i really want to think about.” slight lie. only a slight one, not one big enough for you to feel guilty about but present nonetheless.

“and what about you, hongjoong?”

“i don’t think it’s my turn,” your roommate says through a shrug. his expression is unreadable and vague, one you can’t decipher even a little bit.

“god, you’re no fun. that question wasn’t even part of the game!”

“if y/n is curious, she’s always welcome to ask.”

hongjoong shifts to stare at you. he doesn’t blink — barely breathes in fact, and you struggle to look back.

“okay. truth or dare?”

“dare,” he exhales, leaning forward across the space between you with a smirk painting his lips. it’s wide and teasing; he knows what he’s doing, he knows how cheeky he’s being, and you try not to let the disappointment slip through your features. you aren’t upset. truly. you simply wish to ask him the same question so that you can hear his answer because you know it would be the same as your own and that’s that. bury the issue, prove to yunho that you two are fine and there’s no weird lingering sexual tension between the two of you, and move forward.

yunho clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth before huffing out a low chuckle.

“how entertaining.”

there are two ways for this to play out.

the first: you dare him to pick who he would rather sleep with between the two of you.

the second: you dare him to sleep with you and get your answer if he says no.

“i dare you to choose who you would rather sleep with between yunho and me.”

“oh, this is delightful,” yunho coos from his side of the couch. hongjoong’s smirk falters for a fraction of a second, enough for you to pick up on the minute shift, then he returns to his regular cockiness after a second.

“are you sure you want to know the answer to that, y/n?”

you lift your chin a bit. it’s neither confirmation nor denial; moreso it’s a stand-off to see who will break first, and you’re determined for it not to be you.

“raise the stakes a bit, come on. don’t be shy!” yunho enters the picture, draping an arm around hongjoong’s shoulders and pressing his face into the exposed patch of skin at your roommate’s neck. you aren’t sure why there’s a small flare of jealousy in your gut. “dare him to pick between us and actually sleep with the winner after.”

“i just said i don’t sleep with roommates,” you counter without missing a beat. yunho twists to look you in the eye. it’s only then that you realize your mistake, but it’s too late to try to rectify it or clarify what you said because the implication is blatantly there and hongjoong knows it. his grin stretches wider by the second.

“go ahead and ask then, if you’re so confident.”

you wish you could be the type who backs down from a challenge when you know it won’t end favorably for you because that would stop you from saying what you’re about to say. alas, you’re hardly any good at that; your ego is too big, your pride too important, all those unsavory things that always bite you in the ass later on down the line.

“fine. pick between us, and whoever you pick has to sleep with you tonight.”

“has to? you make it sound like a burden,” hongjoong purrs. he pushes up from the couch, knocking yunho away from his shoulder, but the man keeps on grinning between you and your roommate like a wolf waiting for slaughter. in two swift steps, hongjoong is standing before you with a hand gripping your chin between lithe fingers that are cold on your skin. you can’t look away, can’t move, rooted to the spot by something as simple as a touch. if he moved his hand any lower, he could feel your pulse. the erratic beating of your heart under clammy skin. the drop of sweat trickling down from your jawline to the junction of your neck and shoulder. he bends at the waist, and his lips land all too close to the shell of your ear when he stops moving. “in that case, i choose yunho.” the words are nothing more than a whisper, but the blood pumping through your veins makes it feel like so much more than a mere whisper of air. it feels impossible to breathe in his vicinity. “you aren’t upset, are you?” he continues, and this time you feel the heat of his lips curling over your ear as he speaks. the taunt in his tone threatens to push you over this cliff and into an unending freefall.

“not at all.” it’s choked and broken, hardly convincing in the slightest, but kim hongjoong has an edge over you now. something tells you that he’s never going to let go of that edge now that it’s in his grasp.

“good.”

this is bad — no, it’s catastrophic and terrible for your health. it’s unknown territory that you have never dared to bridge with any roommate you’ve had, especially not hongjoong of all people. yet here you are, flushed and panicked and dangerously on edge because of this one man while yunho grins like he’s just won the lottery across from you. you don’t even think it’s because hongjoong picked him, not with the way he’s staring directly at you like he did with your blunder that caused this mess to begin with.

“hey, wait a second, i didn’t think you were gonna pick me. we can’t sleep together; yeosang will never wanna see me again! i swore celibacy to him!”

“that’s not how celibacy works, dimwit,” hongjoong scoffs, smacking yunho upside the back of the head a moment later.

“i’m celibate for him!” hongjoong rolls his eyes as he sinks back to the couch cushions across from you. you sink your teeth into your lower lip with the shakiest of exhales. at this point, you’re barely holding yourself together enough to be coherent, and if hongjoong hasn’t noticed how flustered he’s made you throughout the week, he surely sees it all on full display right now.

“relax, yun, i’m not gonna sleep with you.”

“okay then at least ask me a question now! i have to go see the man i’m staying celibate for in like, five minutes, we can work one more round in.”

“hm, no,” hongjoong hums and tilts his head to the side. “let’s play, y/n. truth or dare.”

“dare,” you bite back. any dare he could possibly come up with sounds ten times better than another truth like the one from before. and since this is most likely the last round for all of you before yunho heads out, you’re anticipating something tame and easy. your luck might have just run out though.

“perfect. i dare you to touch my tonsils with your tongue.”

“excuse you? absolutely not!”

yunho echoes your shock by choking around his drink and pulling it down from his face after a second.

“and why exactly not?” hongjoong falls against the back of the couch, head tilting to the side as he asks the question.

“don’t you not even have tonsils? didn’t you have them removed when you were younger? jesus christ, hongjoong, why would you—”

“that’s for you and your tongue to find out, no?”

“okay, nope, i’m trying to honor my oath to yeosang, but the thought of witnessing that is making me wanna act up. so! i’m gonna head out before you two start fucking before my poor innocent and weak-willed eyes. i’m merely a man with a terribly large voyeurism kink, and this is a lot for me to handle right now. however, the sight of yeosang sucking the life out of me will whip me back into shape so goodnight!” yunho pushes up from the couch and sets his drink on the coffee table in one fluid movement, then steps around the back of said couch. the second he’s out of hongjoong’s peripherals, the tall man levels you with a stare that you’re tempted to ignore.

the moment you realize you should definitely have ignored it is when he mouths the words ‘fuck him’ to you as he moves for the door.

“don’t have too much fun without me!” yunho calls out before he fully dips out of the apartment and leaves you to your fate with hongjoong.

neither of you moves or even utter a word for what feels like hours after the door snaps shut. hongjoong seems to be fully occupied with analyzing your demeanor in every way while you silently wish for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. when your roommate does, at last, decide to speak, it’s not the escape you hope for it to be.

“you owe me a dare. or a striptease.”

“haven’t you had enough fun for one night?” you spit back. the embarrassment returns in full, although this time you have to admit that it’s for a different reason. you know the kind of person kim hongjoong is. he sleeps around, fucks people for fun, leads both men and women alike into his trap knowing full well that he doesn’t want something serious with them. and you were determined to avoid that trap for over a year. not just because of your stupid little rules but because the man kim hongjoong is outside of all that shit is the epitome of your type.

artsy, creative, carefree, hard-working, driven, inspirational, unapologetic. you could go on for hours about him and all the traits you admire about him because it’s easy to fall in love with hongjoong. it’s not difficult to see the good and beautiful qualities about him when you live in such close quarters with the man. you’re just the fool who fell right into his trap regardless.

now, hongjoong tilts his head to the side as though questioning your comment.

“i’m not interested in playing your games, joong. i love you, but i don’t want to ruin our relationship like that. and frankly, you’re the best roommate i’ve ever had, so i want to keep that going for as long as i can,” you rant, drawing your hands up over your chest. the nerves are starting to run rampant through your body; your fingers have begun to obsessively wring together while your knee bounces to an unknown rhythm on its own.

“y/n, i think you’re misunderstanding me,” hongjoong starts, and at the same time, he sits up straight and leans forward to look at you better. “do I love you? yes. do I like you? that’s still up for debate. this isn’t about me trying to ruin anything between us. i really wouldn’t offer it if i thought it would ruin things. is this something i’ve thought about? hell fucking yeah, more times than i can count. it’s not just that you’re attractive and frankly fuckable as hell. i trust you, i care about you, i think you’re one of the best people i’ve ever met, and i respect you more than i can put into words. i know i don’t — i market myself like some trashy fuckboy who sleeps around and doesn’t care one bit, but that’s not how i treat my friends or the people close to me. i consider you to be both those things. so when i say that i really fucking want to bang you into a mattress, i also mean that i want to take care of you and treat you right, whether romantic feelings are involved or not.”

hongjoong gives a small shrug then drops his hands to his knees. you blink at him with a stark blankness to your expression even as he stands up and steps away from your cramped living room space.

“if it’s not something you want, then i’m okay with that. i’m not going to hold any immature grudges or keep bringing it up time and time again. i think my actions this week more than spoke for themselves, so you know where i’m at with this.” hongjoong looks back at you, a few loose strands of dark hair falling around his eyes. the smile he sends your way is as blinding as ever and causes those butterflies in your gut to at up as usual. you can’t even bring yourself to speak as he continues all the way to his room and disappears into it without another word.

in all fairness, there was nothing more to be said on his side. he laid all his cards out, showed you his hand and pushed his stack of chips to the center of the table. you can either match his bet and try your hand or dip out now.

maybe it’s not too late to convince san to let me move in.

except you don’t truly want to move out or remove hongjoong from your life over something as stupidly trivial as this. you’ve always made some huge and detrimental deal about the possibility of sleeping with hongjoong — yet as he said, you love and care about each other. shouldn’t those things matter more than some weird post-fuck feelings?

your legs move on their own accord. instead of taking you to your own bedroom door as they normally would, they take you straight to hongjoong’s. it only takes two knocks for him to open the door and greet you with a curved grin. with one last deep breath, you seal your fate and take the leap before you can talk yourself out of it.

fingers latch onto the fabric of hongjoong’s navy blue hoodies then yank him forward into your space. lips collide in a mess of teeth and saliva; it’s messy, wet, borderline disgusting, but hongjoong is right there to match your energy and push harder against you in response. you let him guide the kiss: parting your lips when his tongue prods your lower one, nipping lightly at the tip of his tongue when he pushes it into your mouth, then letting him fully explore your wet cavern without relent when he finally wraps his arms tight around your waist. it doesn’t take much for him to pull you flush against his body, nor does it take a lot for him to coerce you into stumbling into his room. location is hardly important to you now, you’ve waited so long for this that hongjoong could fuck you backwards over the bathroom sink and you would still be enamored with the idea. (maybe that idea is a bit too enticing — it’s giving you too many ideas for what’s supposed to be a one-time thing).

hongjoong’s hands never stay in one place for long. from all your time of observing him while he paints and works, you’ve seen how he can never sit still or settle on one thing for long, constantly moving from place to place like his brain moves too quickly for his body. that carries over here in this more intimate area too, as it seems, because his deft fingers wander from your back to your hips to your waist to the hem of your hoodie over and over without relent. he only stops to focus on one thing with those hands when his knees hit the edge of the bed. there he latches on tight and hard to your hoodie, tugging upwards without need for conversation.

the first time you part from the kiss has both of you gasping in deep gulps of air, but you’re only separate long enough for him to pull your hoodie off and throw it to the side. you fumble with the hem of his own shirt, catching both his sweatshirt and shirt in one grip and tugging the way he yanked at yours. despite your haste, it still feels like you aren’t moving nearly fast enough until he strips down to his underwear and sits on the edge of the mattress.

ironically he stops roaming your body with his hands there too; he sits stock still and lays both hands over your hips, eyes moving up to find yours.

“ride my face.”

your first instinct is to deny him the pleasure, argue that you would probably end up choking him out unintentionally, or even that you’re far too embarrassed to do such a thing. then hongjoong curls his fingers around your thighs, gripping the skin between his hands through your sweatpants. the heat that furls in your gut is unbearable. needless to say, you need no further convincing beyond that. you press both hands to his chest and knock him flat on his back with so much ease that it’s laughable. hongjoong takes it in stride and lets you push him down, and his lust-filled gaze continues to rake down your body as you drop both your sweats and underwear to the floor. you don’t think twice about your shirt, leaving the paint-stained mess of fabric on in favor of climbing up on the bed over hongjoong.

“fuck, you look so good in my clothes.”

heat floods your body at that comment. one glance down confirms that it is indeed one of hongjoong’s old school shirts, now useless and ruined by his projects, but that hardly matters because he still looks ready to eat you alive. you’re almost all the way up to his face when his hands grab onto your thighs just as you’re trying to turn yourself in the opposite direction.

“joong, let me turn around at least,” you plea. the words are shaky thanks to your peaked arousal, only made worse by the way hongjoong digs his fingers harder into your skin. “i-i wanna — i wanna suck you off while you… yeah.”

“how adorable, baby girl,” hongjoong coos back but his touch doesn’t let up. “if your mouth comes anywhere close to my dick, i’m not gonna be able to focus in the slightest. i wanna be able to give you my full and undivided attention, darling.”

“o-okay,” you stammer. the sudden usage of the pet name has your head reeling, which must be a result of the arousal because he’s never had such an effect on you before when calling you such things. upon hearing your confirmation, hongjoong hooks his hands around the backs of your thighs, just under where the curve of your ass starts, then yanks upwards. a small yelp of surprise slips out of you, one hand flying up to brace on the headboard as the other reaches down between your legs. you nearly poke one of hongjoong’s eyes out in the process, but after a bit of fumbling you get a comfortable grip on his hair with his nose poking between your already drenched folds. looking down at him is nearly too much for you to bear — the sight of his glinting eyes peeking up at you as his nose emerges glistening with your slick arousal. you can’t tell whether it’s that lust or embarrassment that makes your gut tighten a bit further.

“just relax and let me make you feel good,” hongjoong mumbles, voice muffled by your thighs. the vibrations of his words travel up to your clit and send a shock of pleasure through you. your knuckles go white from how hard you’re gripping the headboard. “yank my hair as much as you want, baby. i’m more than a little into that.”

you open your mouth to respond, but hongjoong chooses that exact moment to drag the flat of his tongue through your slit, parting your folds and letting your wetness flood his tongue. the moan that escapes you is practically deranged; nothing more than a broken and strangled cross between a groan and a whimper. maybe hongjoong was right in saying it’s been far too long since you fucked because that one touch felt ten times better than any and all of your toys combined.

“j-joong, maybe — ah, maybe this was a bad idea!” you choke out between bitten-back moans. each lap of his tongue has your walls clenching around nothing, and every time he prods at your entrance with the tip, you try to pull him deeper. “i won’t l-last long at, ah fuck, all.”

“that’s the point, kitten,” hongjoong hums against your clit. you yank hard at his scalp involuntarily, hand withdrawing immediately when a groan follows your pull.

“i’m — oh god, i’m sorry, joong, are you okay?”

“do that again and i’ll cum in my underwear like a teenage boy, holy fuck.”

a weak laugh tumbles out of you.

“noted. i’ll save it for when you’re fucking me?” your confidence dwindles a bit as you continue the sentence, falling into a question before you can stop it. hongjoong blinks up at you and his mouth pauses against your folds.

“i won’t last two seconds if you do that.”

“i’m not gonna last another minute if you keep talking against me like that so we’re even,” you exhale. hongjoong has the audacity to laugh at that, and it sends such an intense wave of pleasure through you that your vision goes spotty for a few seconds. maybe even a minute was a gross over-estimation because you’re up on the precipice now, only teetering more and more as hongjoong returns to digging his tongue into your tight heat. he fucks you proper with his tongue now; none of his previous teasing stays as he works to push you into your first orgasm like his life depends on it. you bring your free hand up to join the other on the headboard, clinging to the wood so hard that it hurts your knuckles, but that’s also the only thing keeping you from bucking your hips across your roommate’s face. hongjoong slips a hand over your ass and thigh and uses it to draw quick rotations around your clit. he can’t speak with his tongue occupied the way it is but you don’t need to hear him verbalize the command when it’s clear enough.

your orgasm hits like a fucking train. every muscle in your body seems to seize up and freeze atop hongjoong’s face, fingers going slack around the headboard and your own head thrown back in pleasure. you can’t tell whether a noise leaves you or not honestly — either your lips part in a silent scream or you cry out hongjoong’s name so loud that the neighbors will surely complain, but none of that really matters in the hazy aftermath of your high.

when reality does begin to return to you, you’re greeted by hongjoong’s lips pressing kiss after kiss against the skin of your thighs, laying a series of kisses there and mumbling such soft praises that your chest aches. hongjoong seems to notice the life returning to your muscles because he pauses his ministrations to blink up at you with wide eyes.

“hi there.”

“h-hi,” you reply through a shaky smile. hongjoong lays another kiss to your inner thigh.

“you did so well for me.” the praise has you curling against him, preening like a content cat over him.

“can i — can i ride your cock?”

hongjoong inhales sharply. it’s barely noticeable but you catch the way his fingers clench a little harder around you. …dirty talk?

“yeah, yeah, go for it, god damn. can’t say no to that.” he releases your legs to allow you to slip lower and resituate atop him, hands falling out to his sides uselessly.

“condom?”

“yeah, let me grab one.” he sits up as your hands reach his underwear and twists at the waist to reach for his bedside table. you take that opportune moment to pull the hem down over his cock, watching with a tad bit of shock as his painfully erect member springs free. he’s certainly not the biggest you’ve ever seen (shoutout to the time mingi and yunho streaked outside the lakehouse you rented last summer) but he is much bigger than you expected for a man of his height. not so much so that it’s disproportionate or stands out as a “red alert! this is a massive fucking schlong!” but he’s got a nice balance of length and thickness in a way that has you biting your lip. the foil wrapper of a condom hits his abdomen, and you blink up at hongjoong with momentary surprise. a small bottle of lube comes down on his stomach a second later. “just in case,” he laughs, sending a cheeky wink your way. you resist the urge to roll your eyes before picking both items up.

it doesn’t take much effort to slip the condom out and roll it over his member. both of you seem equally eager to do this — which is quite reassuring for you as you heat a bit of lube between your fingers and jerk it slowly over hongjoong’s cock. the noises your touches elicit are borderline sinful but enjoyable nonetheless. they bring that heat back to your stomach, the small spikes of arousal that make you want to sink down on his dick with reckless abandon. you hold yourself together despite that and take it as slowly as possible when you finally line him up with your drenched cunt.

“hands, baby, give me your hands,” hongjoong calls out through a breathy moan. you do as told without complaint, dropping both hands into his waiting ones just as you begin to sink down his length. the stretch isn’t unpleasant to an extent where it’s painful but it is significantly more than just the width of hongjoong’s tongue. he slips his fingers between yours and clings to the backs of your hands. “easy, y/n. i’ve got you — just take it slow.” you’re grateful he offered the lube because despite how wet you are, the lube helps with the slide and eases you down his cock until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. hongjoong is clearly holding back the urge to fuck up into your pussy, ever the picture of patience beneath you with his head thrown back against the mattress. the image of his hair fanned out under him with sweat glistening across his forehead is one you quickly commit to memory because hongjoong looks a dream like this. if you woke up tomorrow and questioned whether this truly was a dream, you’d certainly believe it was one thanks to how ethereal hongjoong looks right now.

you roll your hips forward a bit, testing the waters and the stretch of your walls around his cock. even that small movement draws a litany of moans out of the both of you.

“fuck, you’re impossibly tight, y/n.”

“you don’t feel too bad yourself, joong,” you quip in response.

“cute, but if you don’t start moving, i’m flipping us and fucking you out of the ability to walk in the morning.” something about the way hongjoong says that with so much nonchalance has your walls fluttering around his cock. it’s impossible for the man to not notice such a thing given that you are so tight and that he’s currently fully buried inside you. “change of plans. i’m doing that anyways.”

one swift and fluid movement later, you are the one flat on your back under hongjoong. you barely have time to breathe as he hooks his arms around the backs of your knees and hikes your legs up to his shoulders, hips pushing forward until they’re flush with your ass. another strangled moan leaves you as his cock hits deeper than before. there’s a moment of hesitation to hongjoong’s thrusts right then, the calm before the storm, and this time you’re the one to end that.

“please, please, please, fuck me already, joong.”

it’s a good thing you have nothing left to say because hongjoong quite literally fucks the ability to speak out of you, and the sheer impact of his thrusts against your sweet spot will probably rob you of the ability to walk too. it takes him a few thrusts to find what makes you squeal the loudest, but once he finds the angle that has his cockhead rubbing right over your g-spot with every drag of his cock, he doesn’t stop hitting it at that same angle.

hongjoong seems equally unable to speak coherent thoughts beyond a few short praises and breathy groans hissed against the skin of your neck. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck to hold him in place, letting his hips do most all of the work for the both of you while he ravishes your neck in love bites. if you could manage to return the favor, you most certainly would but you can’t keep your jaw shut for more than a few seconds at a time thanks to the blinding pleasure that his dick is providing right now.

“g-gonna come soon,” hongjoong pants against your sweat-slick skin.

“me too, me too, fuck, just d-don’t stop.”

hongjoong’s erratic jerks lose their rhythm with each passing thrust, knocking against your g-spot with sloppy thrusts that are enough to send you crashing over the edge one more time. you really do cry out his name this time, and you’re fully aware of the way your walls clench hard around his cock. he manages a few more stiff thrusts before stilling inside your cunt, pumping the condom full of come as your walls begin to relax.

you don’t know how much time passes after that. it feels like an eternity before your panting stops and hongjoong lifts himself off your body to glance down at your face. you feel a mess — sweat causing hair to cling to your forehead and drenching your skin, lips bitten raw, but hongjoong’s gaze is as soft as ever.

“god, yeah, better than i imagined.”

“oh shut up,” you whine, swinging a weak punch into his arm. “carry me to the shower?”

“i’ll wash your hair for you if you wash mine.”

“deal.”

...

#kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez fic #ateez oneshot #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong scenario #ateez scenario #ateez ff #ateez fanfic

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mrskurono · 3 years

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title: Bet Me || domming the Seijoh Grads

a/n: anon who gave me this idea, I thought FOREVER about how to execute this and I just like- this happened while taking a shower ok. Iwa had it coming to him being the alpha dog

word count: 2.7k

tags: dom!reader, group sex (mmmmf), established relationship (on Oikawa’s end), bondage, handjob, slight degradation, edging, cockwarming, ruined orgasm, masturbation (male), oral( male and female), rimjob, cucking, male on male (penetration +oral), anal creampie, cocky Oikawa, brat taming Iwa, slightly dacraphilia, safe word mention (unused) petnames, uh probably something else but c’mon its fucking smut, unedited

character(s): Oikawa Tooru (hq), Hajime Iwaizumi (hq) Takahiro Hanamaki (hq) Issei Matsukawa (hq)

heavy nsfw undercut ⇾ ⇾ ⇾

Tooru ran his mouth like a bullet train.

No one took him seriously when he toted about how amazing you were. Claiming you to be the best. Which, to Iwa’s, Makki’s and Mattsun’s surprise, that was notably a lot coming from the ladies man himself. Tooru’s taste in women came like his coffee order did, sweet and sweeter. So when the man came sporting some glamorous little bruises on his torso. Well, that lead to a bit of a bet.

“This won’t work.” Iwa scoffed at the idea, nearly rolling his eyes out of his head when the last bit of rope was secure, “She can’t do it since Shittykawa is just a wimp of course he cums easily!”

“You gonna bet me for that huh baby?” Standing above the man who was now tied at your feet seemed to leave you in a pretty domineering position now over him. Iwa wouldn’t give it up though. He was certain you couldn’t edge him until he cried.

If Iwa cried, then the bet was in your favor. Makki and Mattsun would without a doubt bow to your ability. Seeing though as no one had bested their friend since high school, neither of them saw much potential besides maybe a fun circle jerk out of this. Tooru on the other hand was nearly vibrating out of his own skin with excitement for the occasion.

“You’re gonna eat those words you know Iwa!” Tooru grinning. His best friend really had no idea what he was in store for. And he wasn’t going to tell him either.

Rolling your eyes you wave your boyfriend away and kneel down in front of the bulky athletic trainer. Searching his face. Paying almost no attention to his half a hard on even now, and you simply smile at him, “No kissing. And the safe word is teal, yeah?”

Iwa rolled his eye once more, “Yeah ok.”

Mattsun and Makki elbowed each other with a bit of a giggle between the two of them. They didn’t think you could do it but were certainly glad to not be in Iwa’s shoes. Only arms tired behind his back, Iwa was left in a precarious position when your hand ghosted over his cock.

Feathery touch of your fingertips down his thick shaft and Iwa scoffed. An offhanded comment about if that was the best you got then you should just jerk him off. Instead you let his words fall on deaf ears. Smiling as you took your hand away. Earning all eyes on you as you reached for what was simply a regular bottle of lube.

Drizzling it over Iwa’s cock until it ran down his shaft and between his balls to drip on the ground at his feet. You really had everyone’s attention now that his cock was slimy with lube and untouched. The peanut gallery snickered. Tooru said something in a husky mumble. But it was clear all three men were beginning to palm themselves through their pants. Iwa on the other hand, held firm that this would just be another handjob.

Which in reality you suppose it was. Your work slow and methodical. Wasn’t long before you realized Iwa was enjoying himself. Fingers dancing up and down his cock. The squelch of the lube when you squeezed his tip. Watching him roll his head back and savor the simple movement. Really besides his arms being tied behind his back this was all about to end like a normal handjob.

That was, until the first stringy bits of precum dripped from Iwa’s cock.

“Fuck- Right there-” His low guttural moan.

Indulgent and self centered. Iwa was about to cum and not a tear in sight. Even Makki and Mattsun who now shamelessly were jerking themselves off weren’t surprised by the outcome. But like he knew something they didn’t, Tooru had his hands off himself. Completely. Only those brown eyes set forward and fixated on your hands like he was waiting for you to do something.

“You gonna cum baby?” Your fingers working magic up and down his cock.

Iwa nodded. He wasn’t even paying attention. The handjob was hot but all eyes on him while he was going to win seemed to fuel him even more. You could feel his cock twitch in your hand. Carefully you watched until his balls tightened and then you did it. Exactly what Tooru knew you’d do.

Hand smashed to the top of Iwa’s cock before he could say anything. Your strokes stopped completely. Replaced by a firm grip and your opposing hand feverishly rubbing your palm in circles over his slit. Iwa had no time to react. The overstim right into too much making his entire body twitch and convulse. He doubled over but could not escape. The bindings he strained against didn’t give way. And your hand didn’t stop with it’s cruel motions. Nothing he did could make him escape the pins and needles of pleasure cascading through his body on overdrive.

“Give up? Too much baby? Huh you not gonna cum? Baby wanted to cum though. Where’s all that big boy talk now, Hajime?” Your words sweet in tone and evil in context. Iwa was coming undone in front of everyone he knew. Makki and Mattsun had stopped stroking themselves entirely. Wide eyed at the sight as Tooru was giggling and palming himself finally to his slight relief. His queen was going to win the bet. He just knew you would.

“-‘s much-” Iwa croaked, body trembling under your touch.

“What? I can’t hear you?” Your hand only slick with precum and the lube off his cock, “Come now, I wanna see all your sweet milk spill out~ Won’t you do that for me Hajime?”

Iwa grunted, bucked his hips and gritted his teeth. His orgasm was being forcibly taken from him but still not a tear to spare. As he twitched and shifted his hips up he was certain this would come crashing into an orgasm. Building quicker and quicker by the passing second. He forgot to care if everyone around him was even jerking off to the sight of him anymore. Iwa gasped just when his orgasm was tipping to no return.

“That’s enough.”

Iwa gasped. Mattsun and Makki gasped. Tooru giggled.

Your hand completely removed from Iwa’s cock. All men witnessed the cruelest thing to date. Iwa’s cock bouncing, in desperation, with one exact bead of white cum oozing from his slit. You just ruined Iwaizumi’s orgasm and they all watched you do it.

“No! Don’t stop! Idiot! K-Keep doing it! Keep moving I- I just- I wanna cum!!” Iwa’s pleas fell from his mouth. Ending with his voice cracking as his orgasm tightened around him but just wouldn’t be released. You sat smug in front of him and when his voice cracked he knew it was all over.

You won.

“Shit....” Mattsun mumbled, fixated on Iwa’s poor cock standing so abused and hard.

“Man....that’s....wow.” Makki, still grabbing at his cock, couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Told you guys so~” Tooru sung your praise more than happy to see both his friends adamant that what they saw wasn’t something they wished on anyone. Especially themselves.

“So.” You stood up, hand covered in slickness mixed with Iwa’s precum and looked at Mattsun and Makki, “Anyone else think I’m a liar?”

Quickly they shook their heads.

“Good.” You smiled sweetly. Fixing to pull your panties off right away and throw them between Iwa’s legs still bound in front of you. On full display the natural juices clinging to your thighs with how wet you’d gotten on this little bet. So now you figured no one was going to argue with you, it was your turn for some relief, “Makki, come here.”

Eyes wide he looked at Tooru. Who grinned and nodded for him to do as you said.

Sheepish of the same treatment. He knew a bet was a bet. Undoubtedly you were proclaimed alpha and did as you asked.

“Sit for me yeah?” You point across from Iwa.

Makki swallowed hard but listened. He didn’t want the same outcome as Iwa. When he’d sat down you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him into your ass, “Lick me up a little. I don’t wanna sit on your cock this wet.”

Obediently Makki liked this outcome much more. His tongue swiping over your thighs and lapping at your juices with no questions asked. If he heard you right, sitting on his cock was next in line.

“Tooru baby,” You cooed at your boyfriend, “Mattsun looks awfully hard. Maybe you should take care of him?”

While you pulled Makki’s face into you more, letting him lick you clean in front of Iwa. You take pride in seeing how well your boyfriend drops to his knees to take his friends cock. Mattsun certainly as big as some of the toys you make sweet Tooru gag on. It’s within no time that he has him down his throat. Brown eyes looking up at Mattsun as his cheeks hollow out and he goes to town sucking him like a good boy. Allowing you to enjoy yourself a bit more.

“Alright thank you, Makki,” You pull his face away, coated in your juices and a bit of a dazed look. Adding to the bliss on the man’s face when you finally seat yourself on his cock. Makki’s hands going right to your hips, “Ah ah ah, don’t move. Unless you wanna end up like Iwa huh?”

“Y-Yes ma’am-” Makki stutters with the right amount of fear not to try you on it. Iwa is still left bound in front of you with his cock head purple and aching as it twitches against the air for some kind of relief.

When you wiggle yourself comfortably on Makki’s cock. Moaning softly and spreading your legs so Iwa can see his friend’s cock buried inside you. You click your tongue at Iwa to make him look at you.

Drawing a finger up your slit and teasing your own clit, you smile at Iwa, “Bet you wish you hadn’t lost huh? Wishing you were stuffing my cunny with that cock right about now? Instead, only seeing sweet Makki stretch me out and how hard my clit is. Bet I could cum like this. On his cock that is.”

Iwa licked his lips. How desperate he was to cum. You were absolutely right, Iwa desperately wanted to be Makki, “.....please.”

“Please what?” You asked, reaching your wet fingers back to stuff in Makki’s mouth, “Suck baby.”

Makki listened well. Tongue washing over your fingers to eat your juices up as he relished the feeling of his cock inside you after all this. He wasn’t about to screw this up.

Hanging his head low Iwa internalized his growl and finally spoke up, “....please...let me taste you.”

“That’s a good boy,” You use your foot to tilt his head up towards you. Making him face you but when that smile widened Iwa’s stomach tightened, “But first, Tooru~”

Popping his lips off Mattsun’s cock, your boyfriend turned towards you. Seeing you motion him over. Tooru hated to leave what he was doing but was more curious about what you could want.

“Love, do you think you could take Mattsun?” You ask sweetly.

Tooru blushed at the idea, “I mean...yeah...with a little prep I could-”

“Say no more,” You wave his words away and look to Iwa, “Prep him for me will you baby?”

Giddy at the idea. Tooru didn’t waste anytime getting on his knees. Hips pushed back towards Iwa and Tooru bringing his face inches from your core. Not allowed to taste you but where he could vividly see Makki’s cock stuffed in you.

Perhaps it was the grogginess of a ruined orgasm. Or the fact he was desperate to cum at this point. But there was no hesitation when Iwa pressed his tongue against Tooru. Earning a lewd moan from his best friend that fueled him. Finding himself so hard at the idea of Tooru pressing back on his face as Iwa tongued him.

“Mmm there, does Iwa’s tongue feel good love?” You caress his face as your free hand plays with your clit. Makki not moving as you ordered but his hands certainly didn’t seem to count as he groped and fondled your breast.

“S-So good-” Tooru moaned. His labored breathing and cock hanging between his legs as Iwa ate him out was a beautiful sight. One that wouldn’t last long though.

“Can you take Mattsun now?” You asked sweetly of him. Tooru nodded. He didn’t want to lose Iwa’s tongue but he knew the next thing would be better. So you looked to Mattsun with an inquisitive look.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.” Mattsun ready to stuff his cock in anything a this point.

You watched in pure bliss as you saw Tooru straddle his friend like he did you so often. Instead of sliding down on a toy though. You watched Mattsun’s enormous cock disappear in his ass. Tooru’s stomach tensing until he relaxed and the brown haired man sighed in relief.

“Feel good?” You asked the both of them.

Hardly a response though as Mattsun and Tooru ended up in their own little world. Fucking only mere feet from you. Makki’s cock buried in you as you lazily played with your clit. Leaving Iwa out of it.

“Please...” He stooped as low as to beg, “...Please let me taste at least.”

Feeling generous and like it would be a nice change. You indulge him. Allowing Iwa to finally get a little something even though he was the loser.

“Make me cum before Mattsun fills Tooru and I’ll let you cockwarm next time~”

Iwa didn’t need to be told twice. Diving between your legs to find your clit instantly. His tongue working overtime as you leaned back into Makki. Making the man hold you and catching his lips. He was a good boy who wasn’t moving so kissing him was the least you could do.

As instructed Iwa was an expert with his tongue. Giving your clit all of his attention. Sadly thought he wasn’t privy to winning this either. Glancing over at the other two soon assure you of that. The way Mattsun gripped Tooru’s hips. Cum drooling out of Tooru’s cock for lord only knows how long now. And the way Mattsun’s brows pinched in the middle and hips stalled meant Iwa lost once more.

Unsurprisingly the two men had to catch their breath. Mattsun pulling out and a flood of cum following. Tooru being a good boy when you told him not to waste any and he scooped up Mattsun’s cum and pushed it back inside himself. Fingering himself as Iwa’s tongue began doing the trick when your hand found his hair and your grip tightened.

First a wonderful little tickle until finally you were leaning back into Makki groaning with a shudder. No real movement save for the ripple of your cushiony cunt walls around his cock. After all this Makki wasn’t going to complain. Even as Iwa’s tongue glided over his shaft a few times in desperation to keep you cumming on his tongue.

Neither men cared when your orgasm was in full swing. Your cunt tightening around Makki until he had no choice but to double over into you. Holding you tight as his cock throbbed inside you and his balls emptied every last drop of cum into your well deserving pussy. Even Iwa not caring as he did his job to ride out your orgasm and some of Makki’s excess cum drooling out around him and Iwa licking it up like a good boy. Focused on your hand in his hair until he knew he’d done his job when your grip slowly loosened and finally released him completely.

Satisfied but not letting Makki go anywhere just yet. Which he didn’t mind. Tooru crawled over to you. Kissing you with the faint taste of Mattsun’s cock on his lips and certainly his cum still dripping down his inner thighs. Tooru smiled against you before nuzzling his face against yours.

“Aye wait-” Iwa, still the only one who hadn’t came yet, huffed and looked around.

No one said a thing. Makki spared you a look by hiding his face in your neck like Tooru. Mattsun looked your way and didn’t say anything to his friend. And Tooru simply kept kissing your neck without a care. None of them were going to go against your wishes making you smile at Iwa, “Well, maybe next time you’ll know better than to bet against me now won’t you?”

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wherethingscomebackx · 3 years

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Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!! As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

#larry #larry stylinson #larry fic rec #harry styles #louis tomlinson #fic rec #one direction #1d #one direction fic rec #larry fan fiction #updated because I'm an idiot and added a zarry fic

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