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smileyerim · 11 months

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what’s mine is yours

if mark isn’t going to make a move on you himself, his friends will surely find a way to make one on his behalf. the opportunity arises after an evening of drinking at mark’s apartment that lands you tangled in mark’s sheets wondering if he feels the same chemistry that you do.

pairing: mark lee x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive !!MDNI!!

length: 4.9k

warnings: adults drinking alcohol and getting drunk, dialogue about sex, both reader and mark are drunk the entire time, mark is a pussy!

net tags: @kflixnet @k-labels

Drinking with the boys always led you into sketchy situations. There was the one time Haechan insisted on breaking into a waterpark to ‘visit the mermaids’. Or the time that Renjun ordered a cab for all of you to go over to his ex-girlfriends house to win her back. Jaemin once threw up in the kitchen sink and didn’t tell anyone until morning.

So, yeah, drinking with the boys always led you down odd roads and tonight wouldn’t be any different.

“Okay!” You exclaim drunkenly, head previously falling forward as you dozed in your spot.

“Which one of you gentlemen are going to drive me home?” Your eyes lazily trail across the room at the boys all scattered about in various positions.

“Uh, I’m not good to drive,” Mark says and shoves his thumb into Jeno’s shoulder to ask “you good to drive?” Which earns him a shake of his head.

The rest of the group reacts now, all to let you know that none of them were sober enough to be behind the wheel.

“Okay…” you drag out the word and pull out your phone to open the rideshare app and struggle to type in your apartment’s address.

“Uber is $65.” You say bluntly, again scanning your eyes around the room expectedly. When you don’t get a response, you speak up again.

“This is the part where you say ‘Oh, here Y/N, we’ve got it.’” You tease and Haechan just rolls his eyes and groans.

“Just stay over. It’s fine, you can take the couch.”

“I call dibs on the couch.” Chenle’s voice is muffled from where his nose is nuzzled in the cushions. You’re genuinely surprised that he’s still breathing. You’re not too sure how, though, he’s buried pretty deep. He’s clearly not about to move any time soon.

“Fine, you can sleep with Mark.” Haechan says, hand signaling to the boy who was too distracted by his phone to keep up with the conversation until his name was spoken.

“Wait, dude, what?” Mark exclaims, his wide and glossy eyes switching between you and Haechan quickly. His drunk brain can barely keep up.

You hear a snicker from over your shoulder, “That’s a good idea, Y/N, why don’t you sleep with Mark?” Jaemin’s hand sits lazily on your shoulder.

You frown, a little too drunk to pick up the pieces and put them together.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Jeno says, his own giggle escaping his lips. The two aforementioned boys had smoked earlier, leading to a fit of giggles shared between the two.

“Why is this a better idea than walking her home?” Mark panics, watching you slowly absorb all that’s going on around you. It doesn’t seem like you’ve picked up on how obvious the boys are being and he’s thankful for that.

“It’s cold out and we’re all tired. Just take one for the team and let her sleep in your bed.” Haechan argues. He’s getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Mark has been complaining for weeks about his crush on you, and the moment that Haechan finally does something about it, Mark protests?

“Where will I sleep?” Mark stupidly asks and Haechan’s head falls back onto the couch when he rolls his eyes.

“With her, Mark.” He says with a frustrated tone, his eyes shut and squeezed.

Before Mark can object again, you finally put the pieces together and move to stand, nearly falling into Jaemin’s lap behind you in the process.

“Come on, Mark.” You say, your hand is out in offering for Mark to grab. His slow brain goes a bit numb, too focused on the gold ring on your middle finger. He hadn’t noticed you wear it before.

When he doesn’t move fast enough, Haechan groans and rolls his eyes, grabbing Mark’s arm by the wrist and placing his hand on yours.

“I have to do fucking everything around here, don’t I?” Haechan says to the group, excluding you two who have already begun your drunken trek to Mark’s bedroom.

The vibe is much different when you’re in his room behind a closed door. He keeps his room tidy usually, but his unmade bed and loose bath towel on the floor suggest he wasn’t anticipating company. You prefer it this way, it makes you feel less like a guest. Especially when you’re about to use his bedroom as a hotel, nonetheless.

It also helps when his ruffled sheets make his bed look all the more inviting and comfortable. You flop your belly down, snuggling into his pillow. It smells faintly of tea tree shampoo and musk. You wonder when the last time he washed his sheets was, but you aren’t sure you want to know the answer. It smells like it’s been quite a while but you’re too drunk to care.

“You want some clothes?” He says from his standing position. He wasn’t expecting to see you so… comfortable. You look as if you’re at home in his bed.

He can’t believe it. You’re here in his bed. Sure, you’ve been in his room a million times, you’ve sat on his bed a million times, you’ve even cuddled with Mark on his bed a million times. But this time is different. You’re sleeping here, you’re going to wake up here, you’re going to be lying side by side with Mark for a minimum of 8 hours and he’s not sure he’ll be able to hold it together that long.

“No,” you say looking down at your athletic shorts and crop top. You weren’t wearing a bra, anyways. “A toothbrush would be nice, though.”

He scurries off to the adjoined bathroom and rifles through his drawers quickly, praying that he’d have at least one clean spare toothbrush.

“Unless, of course, all your hoes have used all of them.” You tease. You aren’t quite sure where that comment came from or why you felt compelled to say it but it has an effect on Mark as he stills for a moment before continuing his search. He finds one and walks back over to where you’re still lying on the bed.

“My hoes don’t ask for toothbrushes.” He says in half-honesty. It’s true, no girls have ever asked him for a spare toothbrush. Sure, that’s due to the fact that he’s never had a girl stay over before, but it’s still the truth nonetheless.

“Ew. Good to know I don’t have much competition then. At least I have basic hygiene.” You say, already loading up the toothbrush with his toothpaste.

His brain goes haywire at the comment. Does what you said mean what he thinks it means? Why are you including yourself on the list of Mark’s “hoes”? Do you want to be one? His only one?

Once you’re done, Mark has already changed into his outfit for bed. He’s hesitant on whether or not to wear a shirt. For your comfortability he probably should, but you’ve never been bothered by his bare chest before in all the times you’ve been over. What would make this time any different?

He decides against it as he gets himself ready for bed, trading spots in the bathroom when you go back to bed. His heart is beating out of his chest, which is saying a lot for how much the alcohol still present in his system has relaxed him.

He’s equally thankful for and also angry at Haechan for the stunt he pulled to get you into his room. He’s wanted this for a long time, thats no surprise, but is this how he wanted it? He wants you to know that you’re special to him, is a drunken night sleeping in the same bed enough to tell you that? His head is spinning and it comes to a halt when he sees you lying in his bed on your phone waiting for him to come to bed.

You look natural there, like you’ve always belonged.

“I’ll be right back.” He panics and runs out of the room before you can acknowledge him.

He sulks out into the living room once his door is shut behind him where all the boys still remain. Only Haechan and Jeno are still awake, playing some video game on the TV.

He plops down on Haechan’s left, careful not to sit on Chenle’s knee which Haechan is resting his back against.

“How’s it going in there?” Jeno asks and Mark groans in response, pouring himself his final shot and downing it quickly. The burning sensation in his esophagus is a welcomed distraction from the flurry of thoughts in his head.

“I don’t know what you want, Mark, honestly.” Haechan says, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him.

“I know, I know. I just want her to know that she’s special to me and not just another girl.” Mark groans, playing with the idea of pouring himself a second nightcap shot.

“Did you tell her that?” Haechan says like it’s obvious.

“She’s drunk, Hyuck.” Mark counters, deciding finally to pour himself another shot of the room temperature liquor. Mark is drunk too, so he’s not too sure why that factor matters right now.

“Did you try telling her?” Haechan repeats himself, earning a shoulder check from Jeno.

“What he’s trying to say is that it’s in your hands at this point. You know what you want and you know how to do it. You just need to grow the balls and get it done.” Jeno says and Haechan leans his shoulder on Jeno’s shoulder to signify a quick hug in thanks.

Mark doesn’t move up from his position in an act of procrastination, and Chenle, who Mark previously thought was sleeping, kicks Mark swiftly in the lower back to force him to his feet.

“Go before she falls asleep and you lose your shot again.” Chenle says, head still buried deep in the cushions.

“How the fuck are you breathing, dude?” Mark asks dumbfounded.

“He has his ways.” Haechan responds, an arm wrapping around Mark’s hips to shove him out of the way of the TV screen.

Clearly, Mark is no longer welcomed out in the living room with his friends, so he moves back to his room with you, quietly opening the door in case you had fallen asleep.

You haven’t, of course. You’re far too concerned about Mark to relax long enough to fall asleep.

“If you want me to go home I can just get the Uber it’s fine.” You say the moment Mark walks through the door.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. He can’t even have one second to think.

“No, you can stay.” He says, heading back into the bathroom to brush his teeth again after the two shots he took.

“You just seem a little off, so I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s no big deal, really.” You say, already moving to stand up out of his bed, moving at a much slower pace than normal due to the alcohol still in your system.

“No, please, stay.” He says, walking over to your spot, essentially blocking you from standing.

Your face still doesn’t seem convinced so he shares the truth in the best way he knows how, “I want you to stay.”

You still don’t seem fully convinced, but you lie back down anyways and wait for Mark to join you. He’s stalling at this point, moving around the room and unplugging every socket he can see.

“Big fire hazard guy?” You tease from your position in bed, his pillow parallel to your chest where your head lies. There’s something about the hopeful anticipation in your eyes that makes Mark’s head spin.

Or maybe it’s the alcohol. Probably the alcohol.

He laughs dryly, finally laying down next to you. His head is flat against the mattress, blocking your view of his face from your position atop the pillow beneath you.

“Oh, here, you want it?” You say, offering him the pillow. Mark chastises himself internally for only owning one pillow.

“Nah, you take it, you need one too.” Mark waves you off and adjusts to bend his arm behind his head, resting on his forearm.

You think for a moment before replying, “Well… you’re here aren’t you?”

“Wh-“ Mark’s question is cut short by you sitting up, placing the pillow beneath his head, and then laying your own head on his chest.

He hopes you can’t hear his heartbeat when you ask, “Is this ok?”

He, very boldly in his opinion, responds by wrapping his arms around your body. One over your shoulders and one around your waist. Thank you, alcohol!

“Just peachy.” He says, voice cracking.

His limbs are still stiff around you, but you don’t mention it as you sit up one final time to flip the light switch by the door.

You feel him jolt when you lie your head on his chest again. You feel like rolling your eyes at his dramatics.

“Seriously, Mark, I can go home.” You say, gauging his level of discomfort by the stiffness of his limbs and the sound of his breath that he’s clearly attempting to get under control.

“Nope.” Is all he says as he wraps his arms around you tighter and pulls you in. A beat passes as you feel his muscles relax beneath your head.

“You’re confusing, Mark Lee.” Is your message of acceptance as your fingers find his collarbone, tracing circles around it and scratching into the caverns gently.

He scoffs at your words, “I’m confusing?”

“Well, you say you want me here but you’re clearly uncomfortable.” You retort. He just wishes you would let the conversation settle. He’s trying his hardest.

“I’m not uncomfortable.” It’s a half truth and he knows it, but he’ll say anything to get you to shut up.

“When’s the last time you had a girl in your bed?” You ask and thankfully you can’t see him roll his eyes in the darkness.

“A while.” He swallows. He can tell where this is going and he doesn’t like it.

“You could’ve just said that!” You say with a soft, almost condescending, tone as you coo, digging your head further into his chest.

“It’s not that. You think you have me all figured out but you don’t, so just drop it please? Let’s go to sleep.” Mark pulls you even closer at that and it’s your turn to stiffen.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his pec and he sighs, the hand around your waist holding you tighter.

“It’s fine, just settle down.” He says and you try your best, but your mind is now running a mile a minute.

What the hell did that mean? If you aren’t making him uncomfortable, and if it isn’t that he’s just out of practice, then what is it? Why is your best friend acting so weird?

Your mind can’t help itself but say, “Are you drunk?”

“Very. You?” He says honestly. You smile against his bare chest.

“Very.” You giggle and he does too, his hand traveling down your body to grab at the back of your knee to hoist your leg to rest over his. The ice has been clearly broken as he relaxes into the new position.

You nuzzle in closer to his chest, your hands continuing to explore the dips and curves of his shoulder.

“Did you drink more when you went out there?” You ask, not really wanting to go to bed just yet. You have an odd feeling that your night isn’t over.

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ sound. He can’t tell if you’re prying to try and collect information or if your drunk brain is truly just curious, so he keeps his answers brief.

You giggle out your question, “Why?”

“You don’t usually have this many questions.” He deflects, but you catch him.

“You don’t usually avoid answering.” You retort and he sighs, chest rising and falling slowly below your head. It’s a nice feeling, you think.

You’re anticipating an answer, but he doesn’t give you one. Frowning, you move your head so that your chin rests on his chest, your eyes level with his cheek from where he’s lying back. He looks down at you in the dark of the room to notice your impatient stare.

“Just needed a little extra liquid courage, that’s it.” He shrugs and you frown deeper. That answer just gave you more questions than answers.

“But-“ he cuts you off.

“Just let it go, please.” He begs, his voice genuinely sounding desperate. Usually you have a free pass to tease Mark, but something is different about him tonight so you don’t pester him any further. You lie your head back down over his chest and continue to stroke his shoulder lazily. You seem to be getting more and more comfortable with each other here, which pleases you.

He appreciates the gesture, clearly, as the hand that was previously around your waist travels back down to your leg to grab a large handful softly, his thumb stroking over the side of your thigh near your knee gently.

It’s a nice moment, you think, and before your brain can tell you otherwise, your lips are puckering to leave a gentle kiss to his bare skin beneath your head. His breath hitches softly at that, so you move your head gently away from the spot to rest your forehead against his chin.

Truth be told, you aren’t quite sure why you did it. You and Mark have cuddled a million times before, but you’ve never kissed him. You’ve never even given him a cheek kiss as a greeting. Your lips have never touched Mark Lee, but for some reason tonight you felt compelled to. It was innocent and short enough that you could pretend it didn’t happen at all.

You can feel Mark slowly turning his head, your heart beating at a mile a minute at the sheer unknown of how he will react.

Just as your mind begins to conjure up rejection scenarios, you feel something.

His lips make contact with your forehead, his warm breath fanning over the top of your hair as he stays in his position, gentle lips kissing your forehead. You hold back a gasp, and your heart picks up pace. He still hasn’t moved, which you’re thankful for, as you absorb the feeling and attempt to process your emotions quickly.

That was a move.

Mark is making moves on you. Do you want him to? You can’t lie and say you haven’t thought about him romantically before. He’s your best friend, he’s seen your lowest and your highest and he’s stuck around through it all. He’s also undoubtedly attractive and your type. But you’ve never imagined him in this context.

But you wouldn’t want to take advantage of him. This is Mark you’re talking about here. There is no “casual fun” with him. Whatever is happening is already changing the course of your friendship, do you want to keep it going and take it further?

He doesn’t give you the opportunity to decide before his hand finds your chin, pulling up to signal that he wants you to look at him. You comply, of course, with probably too much ease.

His eyes dart between your two as he tries to read you. He wants this. He knows he wants this. What he doesn’t know, though, is whether or not you want this too.

“Are you too drunk to know what you’re doing?” He whispers and you can feel the air from his words hit your lips and it only makes you want him more.

“No.” You whisper back meekly, your eyes trained to his lips. He’s never looked so kissable. In fact, you’ve never even considered the idea of kissing Mark. Now that you’re here, though, you can’t believe it’s not crossed your mind before. You want him so bad that it feels like you’ve wanted him forever.

Your answer was clearly all he needed to brush his lips over yours. It feels like the wind is knocked out of you as you lie there, not even pursing your lips, just allowing him to adjust to the feeling of being so close with you.

The moment is beautifully intimate, you won’t lie, but you’re feeling a bit impatient and if Mark spends any more time cherishing the moment rather than seizing it you may combust. So you take the next step and officially slot your lips over his, your hand coming up to grab at his jaw to keep him steady on you. He reacts without hesitation, kissing you back with as much force as you’re giving him.

The kiss is remarkable in all the ways that it truly isn’t. There’s no sparks or fireworks, and it takes you a while to get into a rhythm. Your teeth knock his a few times and you both miss the opportunities to insert your tongues into each others mouths. It’s almost laughable how bad the kiss is from a black and white perspective, but you’re satisfied. Because, above all else, the kiss is natural and it feels right.

Once you’ve found your rhythm though, you’re fully emerged in the feeling. He’s a slower kisser than you thought he would be, clearly still attempting to savor the moment with everything in him, and you let him.

It’s nice, you think, being here like this. Every first kiss you’ve had has spurred an emotional rollercoaster inside of you. You’re typically too preoccupied with doing the right thing, looking hot enough, memorizing the other person’s likes and dislikes, and thinking about the future when you kiss someone. Kissing Mark is different. You aren’t full of worries, you’re simply enjoying it. A part of you tries to pin it on the comfortability that comes with being as close friends as you are, but another part of you that’s been hiding for a long time tells you otherwise.

Your adrenaline spikes at the thought, and it spurs you to make the next move to straddle across his waist. He reacts instantly, his hands finding your hips as he kisses you harder.

You like Mark, you realize. Perhaps your heart is a little behind your head as you’re already kissing him, but the realization sparks something in you nonetheless.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he admits when his lips leave yours to trail down your neck. You aren’t sure if Mark is intending to bring the heat up, but it’s working when he finds that one spot near your carotid.

You hum, hand threading in his hair to keep him close. You love this. You love this moment. You never want it to end.

As if he hates you, Mark’s mouth leaves your neck to look at you to do precisely that.

“Are we doing this?” He says and you’re startled by his honesty and boldness. Is this the same Mark who was too scared to even sleep in the same bed as you?

“Define this.” You ask. It’s a valid question, he has to say, but he’s not bold enough to say it by name. Sure, he can grow a pair when he absolutely needs to, but his natural instinct is to quietly observe the other person, not be observed himself.

He doesn’t respond with words, but with an action much more bold than he realizes when his hands find your hips again and move you down to rest over his crotch. He’s not hard yet, but you still get the gist of what he’s trying to say. A gasp escapes you, earning a coy smile from the man below you.

“I take that as a yes?” He teases and you aren’t given the opportunity to respond before he sits up fully, meeting you in your sitting position to wrap both his arms around you tightly as he kisses you again.

Now the kiss is hot. His hands are busy all over your body, lighting fire in its path. You moan encouragingly into his mouth when his hands graze the underside of your breast. He catches the message quickly and moves his hand higher to officially grab you, both of you moaning at the contact. Your mouths connect sloppily, and you begin to feel a poke from underneath you.

It takes all the self control in your body to slow things down, but you owe it to Mark to talk about this.

You say his name into his mouth quietly, which he interprets as a moan, and responds with his own groan right back.

“Mark,” you say a little more firmly this time, your hands finding his shoulders to signal that you have something to say.

“Are you sure?” You ask and his previously anxious eyes soften.

“Are you?” He retorts and you roll your eyes deliberately at him.

“I asked you first, idiot.” You say and he smiles, bringing you in for a hug, his nose finding the crevice between your neck and shoulder. You can feel him relax below your fingers when you hug him back, your hands threading into his hair. The moment from before is long gone, but you prefer this.

You smile from your position on his lap. This is easy, you think. Much easier than it ever has been. It almost scares you how natural this feels with him, but you don’t allow your brain to indulge in the anxiety of it all. You’ll happily wait as long as Mark needs to give you an answer if he’s holding you like he is now.

“I’m sure that I want you, if that’s what you’re asking.” He says and it makes you smile again. He’s trying to get you to say it first. Your best friend has never been very sly, although he likes to think of himself that way.

“That is what I asked, but that’s not what I meant.” You say, throwing the ball back into his court.

All this back and forth is giving you a headache. Under any other circumstance you’d have been fed up with all the pussyfooting and made an actual move, but you want to give Mark the chance to say what he needs to say. You have a feeling that he needs the floor more than you do.

“I want to fuck you, but I don’t think it would mean the same thing to you as it does to me.” He says finally and you melt at his indirect confession, holding him tighter and slightly swaying your bodies side to side.

“Then ask.” You say simply, still not taking the power he clearly wants you to. He’s used to you being the bolder one, he’s never had to fight with you to get you to offer your mind.

“You’re making this really difficult for me, aren’t you?” He jokes and you let out a genuine laugh, kissing the crown of his head once you’re done.

“You’d regret letting me take the lead.” You read him honestly and he scans his brain for a conflict, but you’re right. He would regret it.

“You know me so well.” He says, resigned acceptance on his voice as his hand rubs wide circles into your back.

“I know, that’s why you like me so much.” You snark and Mark leans back to look you in the face with a shocked expression of offense.

“You said you’d let me take the lead!” He whines and you giggle, hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“You’re taking too long.” You attempt to justify yourself.

“I wanted to tell you.” He pouts and you move to grab the other side of his face with your other hand.

“You still can.” You gently inform him, quieting down and looking deep into his eyes.

You had anticipated a confession right then and there, but he continues to stare back at you. You can see the wheels turning in his head and you roll your eyes once more in faux annoyance, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Now, Mark.” You taunt with a giggle and he breaks out into nervous laughter, leaning away from your hands and you let him go hesitantly, resting your hands back on his bare shoulders.

He clears his throat and averts his eyes to the bedpost as he gathers his thoughts. It’s cute, you think, how flustered he is. All of this drama for you? Mark is this nervous to confess to you? You’re not a self conscious girl by any means, but you feel a little out of bounds by the idea that Mark Lee is flustered over you.

He’s amazing. Why doesn’t he think that you would notice that about him? Why does he look like he’s preparing himself for rejection right now? Does he really think of you that highly? Or worse, does he think of himself that low?

He clears his throat once more, saying your name quietly and grabbing your hands in his. You feel as if a bit more distance has been put between you now as you’re no longer holding him, but you allow him to guide.

“I’ve been into you for a while,” He says, taking in a sharp breath after the phrase is out. Although you were expecting to hear it, actually being in the moment feels more intense than you thought it would be. Your toes curl in anxiety as you attempt to keep your cool.

“and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I kissed you— that I genuinely blame on the alcohol—but this is all me.” He says with a sigh at the end. If the confession had been pretty, it wouldn’t have been Mark’s. But you love it all the same.

A smile slowly creeps over your face as you look at him through your eyelashes. You don’t want your reaction to influence him, you want him to fully own this moment.

“Say something please.” He says with a cute impatient lilt to his voice that makes you laugh.

Your poker face, if you even had one in the first place, slips when you open your mouth to respond.

“Mark, I’ve been into you for… well…. not that long,” you say and he laughs in response, hopeful eyes and expectant smile on his face.

“but this is all me, too. I swear if I had known before I would’ve done something before.” You draw an x with your finger over your heart and Mark grabs your hand and presses a gentle kiss to your fingertip. Your heart melts as he grabs your hand with his two and draw them down to his chest.

“I like that you let me.” Mark says, leaning in as if he was about to kiss you. You smile, tilting your chin to meet him.

“Thank you.” He whispers before meeting your lips together in a sweet kiss.

i wrote this all in one day and only proofread it twice so if it sucks…. uh….. yeah! if you did enjoy my little brain dump of a story, please reblog and send feedback! your engagement means waaayyy more to me than you realize.

#kflixnet #k-labels #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagine #mark lee smut #mark drabble #mark fluff #mark smut #nct dream #nct imagine #nct fluff

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

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Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {2}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: Alcohol leads to some bad decisions and a big fight threatens to tear the family apart. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, protective big brother, alcohol, daddy issues, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Round Twelve - Belgium 2022 A sponged microphone was shoved in your face and you barely stopped yourself from smacking it away out of reflex, but you did startle back a bit before recovering.

“You look a little wound up, Spitfire,” Lando commented with a laugh. “Ready to call a truce.”

“You wish, Norris. You may have won the battle but I’m going to win the war.”

The microphone picked up the exchange and the reporter cast a glance between the two of you. “Is this battling on the track?”

“With his tractor? No way,” you laughed, nudging Lando with your elbow and a smile to ease the blow. “Someone thought it would be funny to wake me up with a fire extinguisher, which I am totally blaming on Charles because I know you couldn’t come up with that on your own.”

“Hey!” Lando whined with a pout. “I…can’t come up with a lie right now.”

“That’s what I thought. Charles, watch your back and you both better sleep with one eye open.” You turned your attention back to the reporter and signalled with your hand for them to do their thing while you dutifully did yours for yet another Media Day.

“We know you and Max have a, some would say, unhealthy amount of competitiveness on the track but outside of that you are very protective of each other…so, how has he reacted to finding out you’re on the dating app Raya?”

You winced at the question and saw the guys get whiplash with how fast their heads turned your way. All along the line the question echoed. Lando, Pierre, Charles, Daniel and finally Max, ten beady eyes staring at you with a mixed array of emotions.

“What? You all get to date, why can’t I?” you asked defensively as you crossed your arms. “Gotta find something to do for summer break.”

“Hiking in the Alps,” Charles offered.

“Or sunbathing in the Maldives,” Pierre suggested.

“Please never refer to dating someone as ‘something to do’,” Max huffed. “Or better yet, never mention dating at all. Adopt some cats.”

You looked at Lando and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you have anything to add? Since everyone else seems to think they actually have a say in what I do.”

His eyes darted around the guys who were expecting him to pitch in but all he had was a squeaky and unsure, “No?”

“And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

“Why do you want to date anyway?” Daniel asked, and you swore there was more than just curiosity in his tone.

“You guys have girlfriends, and I want one too.”

“A girlfriend?” he asked with far too much enthusiasm.

“Maybe,” you replied with a wink. “I’m not ruling out 50% of the dating pool.”

“So how have you been finding the app,” the reporter asked, “any connections made?”

You huffed and shook your head, a few sighs of relief sounding down the line but you didn’t see who they came from. One was definitely Max.

“I’m an athlete. I train and I sweat so the last thing I want to do when I get home is do the laundry or cook a healthy meal. But my experience so far is that men think it’s the woman’s job to do that, so I need a guy that’s up for sharing responsibility. Is that too much to ask?”

“I’d cook for you!” A man called from the crowd and you sat up straighter trying to see where it came from.

“What about laundry?” you fired back.

“Security,” Max called with a finger pointed to the good looking man who put his thumbs up in the air.

“Ignore him. What’s your name?” you asked as you pulled out your phone. It only took ten seconds to find Martin’s social media accounts and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “This is why I have trust issues. I hope your girlfriend sees this and dumps you.”

Three days later You had failed to finish the GP after an embarrassing pitstop left one of your wheels rolling down the lane. The replay footage kept popping up wherever you went, even at the restaurant before the afterparty, and Max had the audacity to laugh. “Nice trike, zusje.”

“Shut up and get me another drink,” you grumbled as you drowned your sorrows.

He soon returned with two gin and tonics and huffed as you took them both. “I’m not carrying you back to the hotel if you pass out,” he warned before going and getting another drink for himself.

“That’s fine, I can always call my new friend, Martin,” you said with a grimace as he took your phone off the table and shoved it in his pocket. “Bonnie Tyler was onto something. Where have all the good men gone?”

“They aren’t at the bottom of your glass,” Max said as you tipped the drink back. “So you can stop looking there.”

“You’re right. I’ll see you later, bro.”

“Where are you going?” he asked as he watched you push your chair back and head for the door.

“Taking a page out of P’s favourite book,” you said over your shoulder.

Christian sat back in his chair as you left and asked Max, “What’s P’s favourite book?”

“We’re Going on a Bear Hunt.” Max sighed and rubbed his temples, making Christian laugh with a shake of his head.

“Should I send someone to keep an eye on her?”

“It’s fine, we have family share so I can see her location-fuck! I have her phone!” Max leapt from the table and rushed out of the restaurant. He looked up and down the busy street but he couldn’t see you anywhere and combed a hand through his hair, wondering what he should do.

He hardly used his social media accounts, leaving it to his PA to monitor that side of things, but this would be the exception. Opening twitter, he put out the message asking that if anyone spots you to send him the location. Almost immediately he got bombarded with replies of concern and his anxiety spiked when he realised he would waste his night with the time it would take to go through and find any messages that were actually helpful.

A familiar face spotted you on the dancefloor of the club you found yourself in and you grinned when he made his way through the crowd to you.

“Dance with me, Lando,” you shouted over the music.

“Your brother’s looking for you,” he replied, leaning closer so you could hear him.

“Please don’t tell him where I am.” You could already feel your mood deflating and he bit his lip as he was torn between loyalties.

“Okay, I won’t,” Lando promised, earning a bright smile that made him feel better. “But I’ll let him know you’re with me so he can stop freaking out.”

You didn’t bother to correct him, because Max would never stop worrying. He took his role as older brother too seriously, something you often found stifling since you had grown up without it and still struggled to accept it.

“I’m getting a drink, do you want one?” you asked as while he was busy on his phone, messaging Max.

“Uh, yeah, rum and coke, please.”

You slipped away to the bar, stumbling more than you would like to admit, and leaned against the bar top as you waited for some service. You hadn’t been there for more than a minute when an arm draped over your shoulders and you spotted the Forza Ferrari bracelet on the wrist.

“You have got twitter going crazy, chérie,” Charles said with a chuckle. “There’s quite a few people out hunting for you.”

“And I found her first,” Lando said as he brushed the arm off your shoulder and stood at your other side.

“Well,” you chuffed as you draped your arms over their shoulders and pulled them closer, “I’m on a hunt of my own and I could do with some help. A girl has needs and you two are going to be my wingmen.”

They both looked at each other and you could see the mental conversation they were having, each long passing second leading you to pull back. “No, don’t call Max. Lando, you promised.”

“We can’t just let you go off with some random,” Charles said as he caught your hand before you could escape the bar, “what if they are a serial killer?”

You tugged your hand back angrily and struggled to keep your balance when you were suddenly freed. “If I were a guy we wouldn’t be having this argument. Why can’t I have fun too?”

“We just want to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” you laughed bitterly and held your hand out. “Fine, give me a condom, I know you carry them around in your wallet.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Lando argued as he pushed your hand away. “You’re not sleeping with a stranger.”

“Is that you offering then?” You looked between Charles and Lando, watching their necks turn pink as you crossed your arms. “That's what I thought. I’m going to another bar, this one’s full of assholes. Hasta luego, pendejos.”

“Great, she’s been hanging out with Carlos,” Charles grumbled as you walked away.

“He’s better company than you two,” you shouted over your shoulder before you hit the exit.

Cold air rushed into your lungs and you realised two things. One; you should have worn more clothes, and two; you were sobering up. There was only one way to solve both problems so you marched your way down the street to find another bar.

Your head was pounding and your stomach turned when you woke up to the first day of summer break. The hotel room was elegant and luxurious, but it wasn’t yours and you didn’t know how you had come to get here.

“Coffee?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you sighed with relief as Lando walked into the bedroom with two cups in his hands. “Where’s my clothes? Did we have sex? Wait, no, you wouldn’t cheat and I’d definitely remember that.”

“They’re in the dryer, and no we didn’t have sex,” he said as he handed you one of the cups. “You were soaked when we found you.”

You frowned as you tried to remember what happened but came up blank. “We?”

“You went for a swim in the fountain of love in the city centre. It was a ‘part of your hunt’, apparently. Charles helped me get you back here before anyone called the police.”

“Oh, great,” you muttered as you pulled the sheets higher. “Hey, you’re doing my laundry. It’s a shame you’re not single. Then again, you can’t cook for shit.”

“Be glad you’re single. The grass isn’t always greener on this side of the fence,” he said with a sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.” Lando suddenly looked guilty as he took the half drunk coffee back and placed it on the side table. “I should probably warn you, I called Max after you took off from us last night.”

“I was with you and Charles?” Your brows pinched together as you started to recall being angry at them before embarrassment followed. “Shit, I called you assholes.”

“It’s fine, but the only reason we found you again was because of some clips on Instagram.”

You could imagine another lashing from the Red Bull PR, it wasn’t the first time you were involved in drunk misadventures and it was caught on camera. Usually it was some dare or competition involving Max where neither of you wanted to admit defeat and things just got out of control. He’d probably enjoy hearing you get ripped a new one by Christian while he got a pat on the head for being the golden child.

“What did I do this time?” you asked, knowing it was easier to just rip the bandaid off.

“It isn’t what you did,” he said with a wince. “It’s what you said.”

“Well?” you prompted when he shifted awkwardly on his feet.

“You said Charles’ listens to Nickelback.”

Your head fell back with a laugh and the sheet fell down as you let go of the cotton to clutch your nauseous stomach. “Well at least I wasn’t spouting off a bunch of bullshit.”

“And that there were three drivers you would date if you got the chance.”

“Ah, well…” you cleared your throat and scrunched the bedding into your hands, ignoring the way his eyes trailed over your bra that was on display. “That is a lie. There’s only two. It’s just my luck they are both in relationships. Did I really use the word date?”

“You said fuck but the meaning was there.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on them with a heavy sigh. “I’m a mess. I’m surprised you didn’t try to prank me while you had the chance. Or is there a dick in permanent marker on my face?”

“You wouldn’t have been coherent enough to appreciate it,” Lando teased as he took a seat at the edge of the bed. “I told you this last night and I know you’re lonely, but you're looking for love in all the wrong places. You’re not going to find someone who will treat you right in a shitty nightclub when you’re too drunk to even give consent.”

Tears of embarrassment stung your eyes and you swallowed the lump in your throat before climbing off the bed and wrapping the sheet around you. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m not going to take dating advice from the guy who clearly isn’t happy in his own relationship.”

There would be no way to erase the image of how hurt he was by the words so you turned your back and left the room, grabbing your damp dress from the dryer and pulling it on. Thankfully your shoes were beside the door so you swiped them up as you left, the heels dangling from your fingers as you pushed through the sickening feeling and left the hotel to break into a run.

People stared in the street, some even pulled out their phones when they recognised you but there would be no autographs. You focused on your breathing, focused on the cold slap of your bare feet on the pavement, focused on anything but the look in Lando’s eyes.

“Where the fuck were you!” Max shouted as you reached your room and found him already there, rising from one of the armchairs like the godfather. “I have been worried sick.”

“Jesus, you sound like Jos when you shout. Relax before you have a heart attack and leave me with no competition.”

“You’re more likely to lose your seat the way you’re going, and leave me without any competition.”

“Dream on, I just had a moment.”

Max cocked an eyebrow up and crossed his arms. “Yeah, and what was last weekend and the one before that?”

You sucked your teeth at the reminder and dropped your shoes to the floor. “That wasn’t my fault, I didn’t start the prank war. And I really didn’t think the smoke bomb would set off all of the sprinklers, just the one in Charles’ room. Plus, I paid for the damages and repairs.”

“Throwing money around doesn’t mean you can act like a spoiled brat,” he said as he fell back into the armchair.

“I am not a spoiled brat,” you growled. “I didn’t grow up with money like you and Vicky. I was the dirty little secret, just a bi-product of Jos' affair, that had to scrounge around for second hand parts just so I could have a working kart. So, fuck you, I’m allowed to enjoy the money I have earned.”

“And what about your mother? Do you think she doesn’t see those videos going viral of you drunk out of your mind, letting some klootzak take body shots off you? Does that make her proud?”

Fire burned deep in your gut as you felt attacked from all sides and the angry words spilled over before you could stop them, “I hate you.” Your feet stomped across the carpet to swipe your phone up from beside your stunned brother before you grabbed your backpack from the race which still had your passport and wallet inside. "I never needed a big brother, so you can stop fucking trying and just leave me alone."

“Where are you going?” he asked as he watched you head to the door. “The plane doesn’t leave until this afternoon.”

“Fuck you and fuck your plane. I’ll find my own way home.”

There was only one person you knew you could always count on, the first teammate you had when you made it into F1, and you were already dialling his number as you walked out of the hotel in tears.

“Pierre,” you sobbed as he answered. “I need you.”

Click here for part three.

#formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

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soobnny · 10 months

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classmate au | nishimura riki

❝ did you guys see that? i was the one who taught her how to do that!❞

nishimura riki….

the absolute menace that this boy is

The Class Clown

being seatmates with him is probably the worst decision you have ever made

not bc of him and his jokes !!!!!

no he’s very funny actually

he makes you laugh all the time

he just ALWAYS whispers the wrong answer to you during oral recitation

and you ALWAYS fall for it

“what is the second stage of cell division?”

“meiosis,” he’d whisper so confidently

“m…meiosis?” you ask more to him bc u know he’s wrong but the teacher hears you anyway 😭😭😭

he is just SOOOOO !!!! unbearable

also btw he calls u by ur last name

the type to be close friends with all the teachers

he’d just casually reply to them in class (ofc in a respectful enough manner)

always makes the class laugh

he’s always doing some shit honestly like just don’t try to understand him atp

he likes to switch with the person seated behind you sometimes so he can sit beside a close friend but ALSO so he can play with your hair

ni-ki will just do ANYTHING .. put your hair in poor braids, put it in a ponytail ltrly anything

he has started his own hair salon behind you

tells you not to fix your hair for the rest of the day

so yes you end up sporting his poorly styled ponytail where some strands are sticking out

also the type to draw on your arm

in the case that he doesn’t switch with the person behind you, he’ll just start drawing on your arm

ANYTHING absolutely anything

hearts … maybe even a dick im sorry he is a Man and he will start giggling to himself when he draws it on your forearm

tbh u just let him do it

it’s bc he looks so cute … like he’s so focused on your arm while you’re focused on your teacher

during those class seminars, he is STILL seated next to you

but you guys don’t listen to the speaker most of the time

he’ll have the 8ball app loaded on his phone and you guys will just silently play billiards on his phone

changes ur contact name to “sucks at 8ball”

when it’s his turn to make a move, you try and pay attention to the speaker

but then he nudges your arm to signal that it’s your turn and he hands you his phone so you can make a move

BTW idk how to explain this but the seats r like those in the movie theaters

imagine …. your arms on the same arm rest … side by side …. touching

he is actually so slick with it

unlike jake, you’ll often find him at the volleyball court instead of the basketball court

you enjoy sitting at the sides too

ur friends like playing so sometimes they’d play against riki or on the same team as him and you’d just watch as u wait for ur sibling to get u from school

or until you can commute back home with your friends

sometimes you’d join too

BUT only after telling them you’re bad at the sport over and over and over again and them telling you it’s ok over and over and over again too

you finally join in and play volleyball with them with the reassurance that they’re just playing for fun !!!!!!

honestly it’s so much fun but Menace Riki loves to target the ball in ur direction

(it’s so you can play too since most of the time … the ball doesn’t go in ur direction so ure just awkwardly standing in ur position 🧍‍♀️)

the next day, this mf drags u out of class HIMSELF to the direction of the volleyball court and teaches you how to set

“okay, hands above ur forehead, okay? 😒” and u’re just trying to take his directions

he’d be soooooo annoying when you set a ball properly for the first time too

would ltrly turn to everyone in the court with his loud mouth and start praising you

“hey, did you guys see that?? i taught her how to do that !!! i’m her mentor”

ofc it becomes something about Him instead but it’s just cuz he can’t risk everyone knowing about his big fat crush on you

(sucks to be him bc everyone already knows like … have you seen the way he looks at you?)

he’s secretly so proud and plays volleyball with you to the side instead of playing an actual match

it’s to help you improve

bc he’s your self-proclaimed mentor 🥹

and when his friends drag him to play, he’ll insist you play too on the same team as him

you know how like .. one touch .. two touch .. volleyball is until three right?

ni-ki loves to set the ball or toss it to you so you can actually play too

your hype boy 😍😍😍😍

another funny story with this boy was when you and your friend were on your way to go home

and it started raining

ni-ki’s bff and ur bff r dating ok !!!

so naturally, his best friend leaves his side to shade his gf (ur bff) with an umbrella

now u’re left behind with riki

u do NOT expect him to grab his umbrella, open it up, and tell you to start walking with u

shields you so now you’re following behind ur dating bffs

honestly it’s actually kind of a cute memory

sharing an umbrella .. so romantic 🥰

ofc ur friends tease u !!! those who witnessed it happen and when u and ur friend r safely sheltered from the rain,, riki’s bff starts pushing him and teasing him for finally making a move

the direction ni-ki needs to go to isn’t even where he had walked u to but he still did it so you wouldn’t get sick

ANYWAYS he’s the teasing to get ur attention when he has a crush type so

good luck

expect him to always be up in your business and calling your name out

just embarrassing you in all possible ways

ALL GOOD INTENTIONS i swear

he’s just bad at expressing his feelings

u guys r just an old married couple bickering in class sometimes

your classmates start making bets on when you two will finally start dating

when he finally asks you out, his cocky teasing behavior is just thrown out the window

he stutters and scratches the back of his head and looks anywhere but to you

indirectly asks you out

“wanna eat um street foods after class?”

“who’s coming with,” you’d ask

“JUST ME… just me. just us…”

ltrly something as simple as that has him blushing all over 😭

he has no problem embarrassing u and drawing dicks on ur arms and calling ur name in the hallway and throwing an arm around ur shoulder

but the moment he asks u to eat out with him ?? even just for street food ?? bye he’s so shy and nervous

it’s SOOOO unlike him

“oh, sure!”

his eyes would light up please stop

then his cocky behavior would come back a little .. just enough to be tsundere as he is

“okay… don’t think i wanna hangout with you alone or anything. it’s just a treat for properly setting last time we played vb”

likeeee no one believes you ni-ki

the last time u played vb was like two weeks ago so why r u suddenly treating NOW

it’s actually so cute when u start dating

he has such a Soft Spot for u

LOVES annoying u but is secretly so doting like please

i hate happy couples !!!!!!!!!

i hope u guys r HAPPY <3

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

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risuola · 7 months

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Welcome, dear reader, in the depth of the dirtiest little fantasies. This masterlist consists of writings, that'll explore kinky topics with JJK men, some take place in jujutsu universe, some not.

Now, get comfy, turn off the lights and let us begin. We'll do it slowly, gradually diving deeper, and deeper…

Starring: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Sukuna Ryomen, Kamo Choso, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji

Please read warnings to each piece.

01 OCTOBER 2023

SAY MY NAME — starring: GOJO SATORU, who you matched with on the dating app

Internet is such a weird place. Never in your life you thought that you'd go to bed with a complete stranger that you met through the internet, but when you found yourself standing in front of the room in one of the most expensive hotels in Tokyo, you somehow thought now more about the man himself than the very obvious fact that you should not go but run home. But then he opened the door. — 7,8k words

cw: overstimulation, anonymous, one night stand

06 OCTOBER 2023

DON'T HOLD BACK — starring: GETO SUGURU, who’s as sweet as he's mean to you

If anyone got to know Suguru Geto, they would say that he's really nice guy, very kind and soft spoken, and they wouldn't be exactly wrong, but it seemed like you were the only person in the world that knows that Suguru, your tattoo artist boyfriend, is a meanie. — 7,9k words

cw: size difference, spanking, hair pulling

11 OCTOBER 2023

BREATHE THROUGH YOUR NOSE — starring: KAMO CHOSO, who’s your not-so-ordinary roommate

Blood is Choso’s thing, so it’s no surprise that he’s absolutely turned on when you show up in your shared room covered in it. Quickly, he abandoned watching tv and focused all of his attention on you. To help you, of course. — 2,4k words

cw: temperature play, breath play, choking, blood kink, body worship

16 OCTOBER 2023

I LOVE THE WAY IT HURTS — starring: FUSHIGURO TOJI, who adores the way your long nails break through his skin

One thing you learned during your long-term affair with Toji is that he perceives pain as something arousing. The adrenaline rush of stinging sensation, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue – those things send signals straight to his cock. You, on the other hand, are more than happy to scratch his body red. — 2,5k words

cw: marking, scratching, biting, pussy eating, handjob, blood kink if you squint, bruises, brief aftercare

21 OCTOBER 2023

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR — starring: SUKUNA RYOMEN, who leads a gang of curses

Ever heard of that saying to keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Yeah, you took that one straight to your heart, and pussy, because sleeping – no, rough fucking with the most dangerous enemy you own became a second nature to you. You became Sukuna's toy, you knew he was playing with you, satisfied to fuck you brainless whenever he felt like it but thing is, he's also unable to say no to you, what pisses him off. But once, you show up at his doorstep all covered in blood and he cannot say no to helping you. — 6,2k words

cw: hate fucking, enemies to lovers, dub con, shower sex, praise

26 OCTOBER 2023

OPEN YOUR MOUTH FOR ME — starring: NANAMI KENTO, who joined you for a simple mission during the Halloween night

You liked to joke that Nanami is always overdressed for the occasion. His suits were always crisp and perfectly tailored, showing the unmatched confidence with their color – light beige fabric in combination with dark blue button-up perfectly accentuated his mature features and blonde hair. Your work colleague knows how to dress to impress, and the grown-up apparition matched his character perfectly. Both were cold and calculated, so once, you decided to greet him in the hotel room a little underdressed. — 3,1k words

cw: lingerie + suit, blindfold, face fucking/deepthroating

31 OCTOBER 2023

CALL IT DOUBLE TROUBLE — starring: GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU, who have a habit of sharing everything

It’s been a while since you last saw your college ex-boyfriend Gojo and a Halloween party led to your reconnection. It was cool to see him again, although your break-up was messy. What turned out to be a plot twist, was that he now has a handsome best friend and together, they are deadly. — 6k words

cw: exes to lovers, threesome, double penetration, praise, cum play & more

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mockerycrow · 7 months

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PAYPHONE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist

Summary: You and Johnny were the right people, but everything happened at the wrong time.

[WARNINGS: Angst, hurt/no comfort, breaking up, unhealthy coping mechanisms/can be seen as self-harm.]

JOHNNY DIDN’T know how to handle certain emotions correctly, despite being in the military. He’s a strong, disciplined man but the second something happens he doesn’t know how to deal with—something he doesn’t know how to fix happens, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Johnny’s an impatient man, he likes when something needs to be done and done at that exact moment. He doesn’t like sitting around, doing nothing. He despises feeling useless and god, has he never felt more useless than he does right now, sitting in the gym on base; his headphones blasting music as his leg bounces up and down whilst he’s on a bench. His arms are resting on his knees, his head hanging low with his hands rubbing the back of his neck because it’s feeling the stretch of his muscles due to the position he’s in.

His eardrums twinged with discomfort due to how loud he’s playing his music, but Johnny couldn’t give two shits. Not when he’s waiting for a text that will never come, not when he feels a hole in his chest that he’s not quite sure will ever heal. Johnny lets out a shuddery breath as his leg bounces a thousand miles per hour; he came to the gym to distract himself, but it’s only making everything worse. Johnny’s phone vibrates and he hates the way he pulls it out of his pocket with lightning speed, his heart pounding against his ribcage with hope, hope that it’s you—and a loud curse leaving him as it’s just a fucking notification from his goddamn rugby scores app. Johnny doesn’t hesitate to throw his phone to the ground, the phone clattering as he puts his head in his hands, the energy humming in his veins begging to be released.

“Fuck!” He snarls loudly—he’s alone in the gym, so he isn’t worried about downplaying his reactions. It’s fairly late and the gym is a fair’s way away from the barracks. Not many people come down at—he looks at his watch—0239. His hands are wrapped in preparation of using a punching bag; he knows he should go back to his room and grab the foam gloves for extra protection, he knows he cannot afford broken knuckles right now, but quite frankly; Johnny could not give a fuck. Not when the pain in his chest and in his throat is much worse than any physical injury he’s received. Even the deep, hooked scar in his chin hurt less.

Johnny stands up from where he’s sitting on a bench nearby and he stalks towards the punching bag, electricity biting at his nerves, the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach as he throws a violent right hook at the punching bag; he blocks out the warning signals his brain sends him from the lack of complete proper protection. He wants to stop thinking about you, he wants to stop thinking about your last conversation, the happy memories—he needs it to stop hurting as bad as it does.

Your laugh was incredibly contagious that Johnny couldn’t help but breaking out into a grin so hard that his lip curls and exposes his upper right canine tooth, barely able to contain his own laughter. You were cracking up at your own damn joke that wasn’t even funny in the first place, yet Johnny found himself with tears in his eyes and a tight gut from laughter. “Y—“ He chokes at first, sucking in a deep breath. “You couldn’t even fuckin’ finish yer joke!—“ Johnny wheezes, unable to stop himself from slapping the couch. You, unlike Johnny, did not care who or what was the object of your laughing assault. Your hand comes down on his thigh multiple times, causing him to laugh harder as neither of you could catch your breath. “Shut the fuck up—” You were barely able to push it out, your head reeling back from the laughter.

Johnny’s eyes were glued to you; he loved the way you laughed, the way you were so comfortable with him. He never complained when you hit him during laughing fits, even though yes, it did hurt. Johnny never complained when you couldn’t finish your jokes, because your laughter always ended up being better than the joke itself. His laughter died down, but Johnny’s grin never left his face. He loved watching you try to catch your breath, the way your body flails during a laughing fit. Johnny watched as you slowly stopped laughing, your fingers coming up to wipe the tears that had spilled and any remaining in your eyes. You bit your lip as you made eye contact and you both lost it all over again, this time Johnny’s hand coming down to slap your leg instead, sending you into a loud wheeze.

Johnny thinks the happy memories hurt worse than the bad ones; because he can’t hate you for this. He thinks it would be so much easier to get over this–your relationship if you did something completely fucked up, but the fact is that you didn’t. You never did; you were good to him. Johnny knows he wasn’t bad to you–but you two just wanted different things, and yet you’re the only one he wants. He’s so angry. At you, at himself, at how things ended. His knuckles hurt. Johnny hates how you were so fucking sweet to him, even to the end. He wishes you were mean to him; he wishes you did something unforgivable but you didn’t. His hands throb. Johnny hates himself for this because he’s sure it’s his fault. He’s sure if he did what you needed, it wouldn’t have ended this way. “But would you be happy, John?”

His eyes shut, trying to block out the sudden invasion of your voice. God, your voice. It was something he looked forward to each time he returned from the field, no matter time, he would dial your number. It was usually around this time, too, which doesn’t help. Not when his fingers itch burn to dial your number.

Johnny wishes you did something to justify the anger he has towards you right now, but you didn’t. You wanted different things than him, plain and simple. Neither of you guys did anything wrong, and Johnny can’t handle that. He wants to blame you, himself, something.

Johnny gasps as suddenly the pain hits him. The blaring, hot white pain that shoots through his knuckles, up his arms. His eyelids fly open as he’s met with a gruesome sight; his blood. “Fuckin’ ‘ell!” Johnny curses, shaky fingers ripping his headphones off of his head. There’s blood smeared on the punching bag, blood dripped from his knuckles onto the ground as well as dripping down the punching bag, there’s specks of blood all over the front of his shirt—his hands wont stop fucking shaking, and his chest hurts, and his head fucking burns—

There’s a pair of arms that wrap around Johnny and he tries to push them away, but the white hot pain flares up in his joints and he gasps, pulling his hands away. “No—“ He croaks, barely hearing himself. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me—“

“—op—“

“So—“

“John!”

His eyes open—when did he close them?—and his eyes lay on a familiar face; Price. He looks tired, his brows furrowed in concern, his hands grasping his shoulders uncomfortably firmly. His chest burns, and his vision blurs from the tears he wasn’t aware he was spilling. “Hey, god—“ Price grunts as he grabs Johnny’s wrists instead, his touch gentler there. Johnny sucks in a tight breath, his hands trembling so harshly—they shouldn’t be shaking, he’s a sniper and demolitions expert—“Focus on me, y’hear me?” Price’s voice filters through the drowning thoughts.

Johnny’s breath hitches when he says that, his shoulders trembling. “They used—they used t’say that.”

Price’s worried expression falters, his eyes flickering with recognition with what’s going on, his heart strings tugging harder than before; watching one of your sergeants break like this is.. Something Price never wants to experience again.

“C’mon, no, don’t you worry about the mess, yeah?” Price murmurs, Johnny hiccuping, the embarrassment of breaking down beginning to hit as tears drip off of his cheeks. “Let’s get you cleaned up, mate.”

“Maybe in the next life, Johnny.”

220 notes · View notes

heavens-moonlight · 3 months

Text

𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟮 : 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗟𝗬 𝗘𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧

𝟬𝟭 : 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗗𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘 | 𝟬𝟯 : 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦

Author’s Note: Well, here we go...The game has finally started but who will survive? As always, let me know your thoughts and all comments are greatly appreciated! ♡

The dorms are much more spacious than anticipated as Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won beeline for the sole coffee table in the middle of the room, occupying either side. You instead, opt to unceremoniously plop yourself down onto one of the sizeable bunk beds, plugging your phone in to charge, having depleted the power source earlier on the bus ride over.

With a familiar chime, the battery icon flashes, but you do a double take as you realize the bar has gone back up to more than 50%. "That's strange..." you whisper more to yourself than anyone, but Yoon-Seo hears you.

"What is?"

You flip over onto your stomach and turn your phone screen toward her. "Look." You point to the upper right corner, forefinger tapping at the yellow bar, lightning symbol on display. "I'm sure it was at 26% earlier but all of a sudden it's paused at nearly double what it was previously."

"Maybe you mixed up the percentages?" Yoon-Seo suggests.

"I don't think so..." You scratch your head in confusion as Yoon-Seo shrugs, neither of you having a clue in the slightest.

"Electronics are good when they work," Jung-Won says, padding over to the chair by your head where Yoon-Seo left her backpack. You place the phone face-down on the nightstand and see her slip a small gift box inside the unzipped bag, making a shushing motion with her pointer finger against her lips. Smiling, you mimic the locking of a key and throw it away behind you, keeping Yoon-Seo's birthday surprise between the two of you. "Ugh, I need to take a coding lecture but my laptop's failing to connect to the internet."

Yoon-Seo scoots her back against the side railing of your bed and crosses her arms, tsking at Jung-Won. "You keep badgering me nonstop for reading, but who else except you would willingly study during a school trip?" Yoon-Seo shakes her head. "Stop acting like the top of the class, Madame Mensa."

Jung-Won doesn't look up from her laptop screen, monotonously correcting the nickname. "Mensa is the name of the organization. You're supposed to say Mensan for the people. How many times do I have to tell you?"

You laugh at the habitual repartee between them, but get cut off by a ding signaling an incoming notification. Peering over Yoon-Seo's shoulder, you eye as an app materializes on her home screen, one you don't recognize nor have you ever seen it in the default bundle all phones come with.

"Jung-Won, what's this? I said I don't need it."

"It's really not me. I haven't touched your phone at all."

Curious, you grab your own phone and glance down at it, the same little round-edged square making its appearance. "Yoon-Seo, I have it too. Neither of us downloaded it or scanned the QR code when we arrived."

[ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇɢɪɴ sʜᴏʀᴛʟʏ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀssɪɢɴᴇᴅ ᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ]

"Mafia game?" As you touch the screen, an envelope unfurls following animation. "Wasn't this what they were playing earlier on the bus?"

"Yeah..." Yoon-Seo confirms distractedly, verifying her own occupation. "I guess I'm a civilian, not that I expected to be anything else. How about you guys?"

"I'm also a civilian."

[ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ ɴɪᴍ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏʟᴇ ɪs ᴀ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ. ]

"Me too," you fib, hoping that it wouldn't be questioned. You weren't a very good liar to begin with and hoped this would pass. Maybe there would be a reward for winning the game, but either way, at least you knew your closest friends were on the same side as you.

Still, for some odd reason, it didn't seem fit for you to reveal your real character. Being a doctor seemed too important of a role to just go around telling everyone willy-nilly. The three of you rarely kept secrets from one another, and so you trusted that a white lie for the game this one time could be forgiven.

Before any of you can discuss the odd happenings of the unexpected game further, paragraphs pop up in successive order, outlining the standard rules:

𝟣) ᴀʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛs ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛʟʏ ᴀssɪɢɴᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴀ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴏғғɪᴄᴇʀ, ᴏʀ ᴀ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴ ᴘʀᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴀɴʏ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴇᴇ ғɪᴛ, ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴғɪʀᴍ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ's ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜᴏᴏsɪɴɢ.

𝟤) ғʀᴏᴍ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴇs ᴡɪʟʟ ᴅɪsǫᴜᴀʟɪғʏ sᴜsᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀs ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ.

𝟥) ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴄᴋ sᴛʀɪᴋᴇs ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀɪᴛʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛs.

𝟦) ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴏsᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇᴍɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ sʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴀsɪᴅᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ.

𝟧) ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ɪs ɪɴ sʟᴜᴍʙᴇʀ, ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀs ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴅᴀᴡɴ.

𝟨) ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴀɴ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴀɴs ᴏʀ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴏᴠᴇʀʀᴜɴs ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ, ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴɴᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ.

[ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀs ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴄᴀsᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs. ]

You're still trying to wrap your head around the summarized instructions, sensing that there was much more to the game than meets the eye. Why was there no outlining of the individual tasks required for those with specialized occupations? How many of you were assigned to each role? What happens after execution?

Jung-Won's voice interrupts your thoughts, the thread of worries pausing in its unending tangling inside your mind. "If you push a name, a vote gets cast apparently."

"You elected someone already...?" It was quite obvious how much Eun-Ha pushed for Yool determinedly in the group chat, and reluctantly, you and Yoon-Seo follow suit, knowing full-well Yool's obsession with the game and his caliber for winning streaks.

Pensively, you start scrolling through the partakers' list, seeing your classmates' yearbook photos, including your own. Being the overthinker that you are, your mind starts spinning with all of the possibilities on how this game could end, but you had no clue why it even began in the first place. The awareness of budding anxiousness courses through you as a slight breeze from the window sends goosebumps raising on your arms at the late revelation. "But guys...why does this app have our identifiers?"

Yoon-Seo turns to you, eyebrows knit together in agreement. "Right. We didn't even sign up earlier. Who granted them access to gather this protected information?"

Jung-Won bites at her nails, eyes shifting back and forth across her phone screen, the glare of its light reflecting off her glasses. "The internet isn't working either. How are we able to play the game anyway?"

Silence encases the vicinity around your trio, no one knowing what to say to the other, all questions remaining unvoiced and unanswered.

"Why don't we go back down to the lobby and see if there's anyone we can ask?" you propose, Jung-Won and Yoon-Seo readily assenting.

The reception desk as you head downstairs is as empty as it was the moment you came in, maybe even more so as reticence settles over the expansive building, the sky having gone ominously dark from a single look out the glass doors of the entrance.

"Our teacher hasn't come back yet? He left so long ago..." Yoon-Seo walks around the reception desk, circling for any clues. "Nothing could've happened, right?"

"What if he got into an accident?" Jung-Won states bluntly, drumming her fingers against the marble countertop.

"Yah, don't say it like that..." you warn. "Words can be dangerous. You don't know what it can subject someone to."

Before Jung-Won can list more outrageous possibilities, Jun-Hee sidles up on the opposite side of the counter where you're spinning back and forth in the chair slowly, lost in thought.

"Hey Jun-Hee, do you know when Seonsaengnim will be back?" Yoon-Seo directs at him while she flips through the binder of contacts placed beside you. "These numbers aren't what we need at all. They're just for the retreat center's use like maintenance and all that."

Jun-Hee shakes his head. "I can't reach him." He pulls out his phone, only to sigh and slip it back inside his pocket. "Are any of your guys' devices working?"

"We don't even have service." You look around once more, surveying areas within your eyesight in case any adults would spontaneously reappear. "Shouldn't there be at least one staff member or at the very least a security guard on patrol at night?"

"I guess they all went with our teacher." Jun-Hee walks up next to you and settles down on the counter to your left.

You raise an eyebrow. "Every single one of them? They didn't think to have anybody stay behind as a chaperone?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Jun-Hee begins. "It does seem a little unnecessary for all of them to up and leave."

"Then, what do we do now? How long do we wait?" Jung-Won stares at the clock ticking away. "It's barely nine o'clock. Surely, it wouldn't take him twice as long to pick up the others and return here, right?"

"There must be a phone in the staff lounge," Yoon-Seo stops her rummaging around under the desk long enough to say. "Jung-Won, let's go and search there."

"You're leaving me here alone?"

"Not alone," Yoon-Seo waggles her eyebrows so only you can see. "With Jun-Hee, of course."

Jung-Won conceals her smile behind her hand not so discreetly and begins to drag Yoon-Seo away. As they pass, Yoon-Seo pats Jun-Hee on the shoulder and cautions him. "If she gets lost, you'll be in big trouble."

He turns to her. "You've known me since we were babies, who do you take me for?"

Yoon-Seo merely ignores him and follows Jung-Won upstairs happily, an extra spring in her step, making it known how proud she was of herself. Rolling your eyes unnoticeably at their less than subtle tactics, you could only hope they were actually going to find a phone and not saying that purely for reasons of ulterior motives.

The hush after is stifling without the buffer of Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won. Jun-Hee is staring straight at you, hands bracing the counter on either side of him waiting for you to say something, but you're staring down at the floor, purposefully refusing to make eye contact.

"Are you mad at me?"

That was the last thing you expected him to say. "Of course not." You look up at him briefly, but what a mistake that was. With you lowered in the chair and him sitting up on the raised desk, your eyes meet his lips first and your mind automatically reels back to the kiss on the bus. Darting your eyes back to your lap immediately after draws out a weary sigh from Jun-Hee.

"Even now you can't look straight at me. At least tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it." When you're thinking of what to reply with, Jun-Hee grabs the chair's armrests by your sides and pulls you in closer, leaning his head down so that his form towers over yours. With nowhere else to look now, you're forced to gaze upward and the expression on his face has your stomach tightening in knots, guilty. "Now you're finally looking at me." A beat passes before Jun-Hee's eyes become downturn. "I'm sorry."

Your gaze softens as you glance into his dark brown eyes, seeing your own image in his irises. "I'm the one that should be sorry." You place your hands that were settled in your lap onto his forearms, and he instantly gazes down at the contact before looking back to you, his attention unwavering. "Don't ever apologize to me when you didn't do anything wrong, Jun-Hee."

His eyes dart back and forth between your own, questioning. "Then why have you been avoiding me? Did something happen while I was sleeping earlier on the bus? If there is or I made you uncomfortable in any way—"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," you're quick to salvage the situation and dismiss the notion entirely, even though he couldn't have been more spot on. He had always been an observant person. This you knew too well.

I didn't want you to find out my feelings for you and lose you as a friend all in one.

Instead of the full truth, you tell him only half of it. "I didn't want you to find out how tired I felt and have you worrying over me. I know you're the class president with greater, more important responsibilities, but I also know, above anyone else, that I can't burden you with my troubles just because I'm your friend."

"Seol-Hwa, even then, you could've told me." His hands move to rest on your shoulders. "You'll always be my top priority." In a much quieter voice he says, "And I'll always worry about you."

"Jun-Hee..."

He looks you dead in the eyes, expression open and filled with warmth. "I don't like when you're sad. You look the prettiest when you smile." You don't even get a chance to get a word in before Jun-Hee plows on, turning his head away slightly. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was abashed to be saying the things he did. "In the gymnasium earlier, you were laughing so carefree with Yoon-Seo. It's been a while since I've seen you like that with me. I can only be happy if you're happy..." He's almost sulking, his countenance like that of a kicked puppy.

You laugh genuinely, your head hitting the back of the chair. "Kim Jun-Hee, are you jealous of my friendship with Yoon-Seo right now?"

"I got you to smile this time!" He grins back brightly at you and the two of you sit there looking at one another, neither grin dropping. The soft exhalation of his laughter trickles into your ears once again, Jun-Hee being so content with having you in his presence, and you bask in how happy the sound makes you. Any previously existing tension disintegrates in an instant, and oddly enough, you feel closer to him than ever.

The moment gets cut short when a text from the app's group chat comes in, a start contrast to the discussion earlier, votes having already pooled in for Heo Yool.

[ 💬 sᴏ-ᴍɪ: ʟᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴏɴ-sᴇᴏ, ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʟ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɴᴇx. ɪᴛ's ᴜʀɢᴇɴᴛ. ]

The oddly specific and demanding tone of the message irked you to no end. "What is this about?" Never once have you seen So-Mi try to interact with your friend group voluntarily.

Jun-Hee waves his hand dismissively. "For the event tomorrow, we're interviewing everyone about the trip and the general experience."

"Even in this situation?" you ask incredulously.

Jun-Hee chuckles. "You know how So-Mi is." His eyebrows lift pointedly.

You pat his thigh accidentally, having missed his knee entirely and feel the muscles tense beneath your hand although he doesn't move away. "Don't you find it odd?"

Jun-Hee tilts his head, equal parts confused and curious. "About...?"

"Everything." You gesture around. "The lost signal, the disappearance of supposedly responsible adults, this automatically installed app that has our personal data, and the mafia game we're all in even though we didn't choose to play?"

Jun-Hee mulls it over for a second. "I honestly have no idea what's going on." He ruffles your head affectionately. "But don't worry so much. I'm certain once morning comes, everything will be alright."

"I sure hope so."

Your conversation quietens as heavy footsteps pad across the glossed floors and you squint to see the figure in the distance.

"Joo-Won?"

Jun-Hee turns around at your discovery and notices your classmate's bloody nose, a spark of recognition flashing across his eyes. "Where are you going?"

Joo-Won looks from Jun-Hee to you, and back again nervously, seemingly deciding whether he should say something or not. "W-Well, the guys wanted to see me for a second. So..." he stammers out.

You frown, knowing of the relentless bullying Kyung-Jun's group puts him and Da-Bum through.

"Wait there," Jun-Hee directs, hopping off the desk, and Ju-Won picks at his fingers, clearly on edge at the impending encounter.

"Be careful," you add in as an afterthought before he can leave.

"I will, now that I have you fretting over me." Jun-Hee smirks cheekily.

"I'm being serious, Jun-Hee." You fix him with a stern but caring gaze. "Try to be less confrontational. It won't be good for you or Ju-Won to get on Kyung-Jun's bad side."

He nods, understanding. "I'll try my best." Waving, he begins to lead Ju-Won away, the latter shuffling after with his head down pitifully. "I'll see you soon. Don't go anywhere where I can't reach you!" Your eyes trail after their distancing forms, agitatedly until you can no longer hear their footsteps echoing down the hall.

Not even a full minute has gone by before Yoon-Seo and Jong-Won show up again, trudging down the same stairs they climbed up less than an hour ago. Judging by their walk and the look on their faces, their search must've proved unsuccessful.

"Nothing came up?" You fall into place with the two as your all make way toward the pool.

"The phone lines..." Yoon-Seo begins, dishearteningly. "None of them worked. Every single ring had us fooled."

You stare at her in shock. "But—"

"We tried contacting 119 and even picking up incoming calls immediately, but no one answered." Jung-Won hangs her head despondently.

"This trip is starting to take a very wrong turn..." you hypothesize out loud. You don't even get to explain to Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won your reasoning before Na-Hee comes by, skipping over joyfully, oblivious on how to read the room.

"You all came." Na-Hee grabs your hand and Jung-Won's in each of her own, motioning with her head toward Yoon-Seo to enter. "Yoon-Seo, you should head inside." Without questioning it, Yoon-Seo does as she's told.

You slip your hand out of Na-Hee's nippily, and her smile wanes faintly, somewhat hurt. Hyun-Ho had confided in you that he liked her, but given what you knew about Na-Hee, you weren't fond of the idea. Not wanting to disappoint him, you don't say anything when he brings her up, but the things she has been a bystander for following in So-Mi's schemes never sat right with you. Silently, you hope that one day Na-Hee would come to her senses for Hyun-Ho's sake, but you've been proven wrong time and time again.

"Are these solo interviews or what?" you inquire curtly.

"They want to record Yoon-Seo first. You can come in a bit later."

"Can't be that special of footage." Jung-Won pulls you by the elbow, sidestepping Na-Hee and pushing the doors open of her own volition.

You're met with So-Mi, Ji-Soo, Yu-Jun, and Woo-Ram, all crowding around Yoon-Seo and singing her happy birthday with a makeshift cake comprised of stacked choco-pies.

So-Mi steps forward, offering Yoon-Seo the sweets and urging her to blow out a single measly candle that wasn't even lit beforehand.

"Since when have you done stuff like this? You barely give her the time of day." Jung-Won eyes So-Mi suspiciously, voicing your same exact thoughts.

Yoon-Seo is way too nice, proceeding to thank So-Mi. You, on the other hand, didn't buy into the latter's nice girl act whatsoever, and clearly, neither did Jung-Won.

So-Mi shoots Yoon-Seo a saccharine smile. "Don't mention it. We should celebrate since we're friends." The word doesn't roll off her tongue easily, openly not a genuine desire. "We brought a present too." You narrow your eyes at the group as they're trying to hide their shrewd smiles, albeit unsuccessfully. "Let's start with a birthday beating and plunge!"

Instantaneously, you try to drag Yu-Jun, leaving Jung-Won to fend off Woo-Ram, away from Yoon-Seo with no luck. More force would just topple all three of them straight into the water. You didn't particularly care if the boys fell to the very bottom depths of the pool, but Yoon-Seo shouldn't get soaked, no less on the night of her birthday. She didn't deserve this horrible of a treatment for simply being too trusting, genuinely wanting to see good in everyone with no ounce of judgment or malice.

So-Mi guffaws hysterically in the background, bent over clutching her stomach like the sight is the funniest thing she's ever witnessed. "Put her down," she orders in between giggles, wiping away a tear from her eye. "She's about to cry." Standing akimbo, she bites back her sneer, turning to the rest. "We went too far, didn't we?"

"You think?!" Jung-Won rounds on her, eyes blazing with anger.

You haul Yoon-Seo back up to her feet as the boys scatter, high-fiving. As she stands up again after you've barely let go of her hands, So-Mi swiftly shoves her over backwards, sending her diving into the water with a loud splash, droplets flying every which way.

"Are you crazy? How could you do that?!" Jung-Won kneels next to you by the edge of the pool, watching as Yoon-Seo resurfaces.

"You ok?" You reach out a hand to her, close enough that she can grip your fingertips.

"Yeah, I will be."

You breathe a sigh of reprieve, but it's rather short-lived when Yoon-Seo starts kicking madly underwater, her arms and legs flailing before she sinks beneath, no longer visible.

"Yoon-Seo!" you shout, but hear no response.

"What a funny 'prank' to you guys, huh?" Jung-Won yells crossly at So-Mi's group, everyone standing shell-shocked. How they have the conscience to even feel the tiniest bit of remorse is beyond your understanding.

The group tries to urge Woo-Ram to go in, but in hindsight, being on the receiving end of the prank didn't seem so appealing anymore.

Livid, you turn around to heave So-Mi backwards and she goes tumbling to the ground, the silver platter she was holding in one hand clattering and smashing cake crumbs all over her. For whatever reason, Ji-Soo is still recording, but you could care less about the captured situation. "Be glad it's not the pool I pushed you into." She's stunned enough that she can't find it in her to form words.

Na-Hee opens her mouth, outwardly wanting to apologize, but swallows the excuses when you glare at her in turn. "I was right about you all along. You'll never change."

You kick your shoes off and jump in after Yoon-Seo without hesitation, Jung-Won screaming for you in the background. Thankfully, Yoon-Seo is still conscious, but scarcely, and you manage to guide her toward the rungs of the poolside ladder. Jung-Won yanks Yoon-Seo up and over the edge, throwing a hand down to you.

"Yoon-Seo lost her shoes. I saw them earlier but couldn't reach them, so let me retrieve them too."

Jung-Won looks into the chasmic pool apprehensively, more concerned after what happened, but nods in acknowledgment, going back to propping Yoon-Seo up. "Come back quickly, Seol-Hwa."

Everyone is huddling around Yoon-Seo while you plunge back under, holding your breath comfortably as you grab her sneakers. Right as you're swimming on the path of return, something cold clamps onto your leg, refusing to let go. The vice-like grip tightens, pulling you downward to drown in darkness. No matter how hard you kick, you can't resurface due to the invisible power.

"Seol-Hwa!" Jung-Won calls out to you, frightened. "I'm going to get help, hang on!"

The last thing you see are spindly, mottled, black fingers, color washed out grey in the lighting; something sinister and otherworldly. As it curls tighter around your ankle, so too does your chest constrict, the coldness of the touch seeping into your bones and you find the sense of prior trepidation returning in full force before everything sinks into oblivion.

Lungs burning and head throbbing, you open your eyes groggily, the pristine white walls of the infirmary slowly coming into focus. In the bed next to yours, Yoon-Seo is still asleep.

The digits on your left hand are numb, and you look over to see Jun-Hee gripping it like a lifeline, head resting atop his arm by your knees. Your body protests as you turn on your side, muscles stiff, trying to draw your hand free. Reaching out, you card your fingers tenderly through his hair, the ends still yet to dry. Did he jump in?

After a while, he wakes up with a start, eyes flickering to your face. A shaky sigh of relief escapes him seeing the tiniest of smiles from you, any prior sense of unrest vanishing.

"Are you in pain at all?" He cradles the back of your head, helping you sit up as you dangle your legs over the bed's edge, seated knee to knee with him.

"How long have you been here with me?" You sweep the fallen fringe away to the outlines of his face, fingers lingering against his forehead. "You should've gotten changed at least." Your hand falls back to your lap when you can see his eyes better, unshielded. "You'll grow sick at this rate, Jun-Hee."

"Says the one I'm stressing over."

"I'm fine now," you assure.

"Why didn't you wake me up as soon as you came to? Do you know how terrified I was?" His brows are furrowed in concern still, and you lift your hand again to smooth the crease lines away.

"But you rescued me," you speak quietly.

"I thought you were dying in front of me and that I wouldn't be able to save you in time. I can't lose you; do you know that?" His hand comes up to cup your face delicately, barely daring to touch it wholly, almost afraid you would disappear if he did. "You're someone I can absolutely cannot let go of." You don't realize you're crying until Jun-Hee runs his thumb over your cheek, wiping away the twin trails of tears. You're not usually one to cry, but in this moment, you were overcome with emotions. "Why are you crying?"

"I was worried. Not for me, but for you." His hands are shaking where they're pressed against your face. You put your hand over his, expecting him to pull away at your next words. "I know you like to avoid the water as much as you can after..." you trail off, teardrops still falling. "You willingly jumped in to save me when I know how deep-seated your fear runs."

He smiles sadly at you. "I found out that the care I have for you outweighs any of my existing fears." His hands have stopped shaking and you drag them down, yours coming along with it to hold them together. "I told you earlier to not go someplace where I can't reach you but after this, I'm willing to follow you to the ends of the earth. Even in death, as long as it's with you, I wouldn't mind the thought."

Your heart stutters in your chest at the sincerity of his words, and you know that your feelings for him would never fade. Not in this lifetime. "Jun-Hee..."

"Seol-Hwa? Jun-Hee?" Yoon-Seo's trembling voice has the both of you looking in her direction, but Jun-Hee is yet to release your hand.

"Yoon-Seo..." you reply, eased now that she's awoken. "How are you feeling?"

"I can't recall what happened at all." She holds her head, staring blankly ahead. "But somehow, I find I'd rather not remember." Yoon-Seo moves over to sit on your cot, back-to-back with you. The warmth radiating from her is welcoming. "Seol-Hwa, thanks for always being there. You're a good person through and through."

"Tell that to yourself." You smile and lean your head back against hers. "What are friends for?"

"Saving one another's lives now apparently," Jun-Hee jokes, lightening the atmosphere.

"Then I owe you one," Yoon-Seo continues. "I'll be your Superwoman next time."

"You and Jun-Hee really are like one another. What did you both do together when you were babies to make you fearless like this?" you question, exasperatedly fond. "Readily giving up your life for another person?"

"Only because we know you'd do the same. That kind of sincerity comes once in a lifetime."

The door creaks open just as Yoon-Seo ends her sentence, So-Mi's group filing in self-consciously, Jung-Won leading them in with her arms crossed.

"Apologize," Jun-Hee states emotionlessly. "Right now," he emphasizes, leaving no room for argument. "Pranks are supposed to be harmless, not harmful."

So-Mi grimaces at his harsh tone. "I'm sorry," she's quick to apologize. "Seol-Hwa."

She's not looking directly at you but past to the side of you, gaze straying to your hand in Jun-Hee's where he's absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb into your palm, not aware of his own actions. One corner of So-Mi's lip twitches, but aside from that, she doesn't comment on it. If the others have noticed, they don't say anything either.

"I'm not the one this should be reserved for."

You see her bite her tongue, annoyed at having to repeat herself once again, but not yet dropping her fake performance. Plastering on the most pitiful puppy eyes she can conjure up, she shifts her attention to Yoon-Seo, still pale. "I do feel guilty. We truly just wanted to wish you a happy birthday." So-Mi forces the waterworks on, squeezing one teardrop out at a time.

"I don't think I've ever been pushed into a pool as a birthday present before," Jung-Won mutters not so quietly under her breath.

Yoon-Seo elbows her subtly. "It's okay. Don't cry, So-Mi."

You and Jung-Won both whip your heads toward Yoon-Seo, in pure disbelief. Neither of you would've accepted that half-baked, insincere apology.

"Really?" So-Mi's eyes widen on cue, as if she didn't expect Yoon-Seo to be so pardoning. "Will you forgive us?"

"Of course, I accept. I'm alright now, so let's just put it in the past."

Jung-Won doesn't attempt to hide her distaste as she groans aloud. "Yep, totally fine. You just almost went and saw King Sejong is all."

"That's enough," Yoon-Seo whisper-yells.

"Alright, everyone out," Joon-Hee cuts in, feeling the tension in the room. "We'll all talk later."

So-Mi is the first to leave, unmistakably irritated and shamed at the same time. No matter how hard she tries to mask it, you see right through her well-crafted persona. Na-Hee lingers, the last one to exit. Before the door slams shut, she catches your eye, but in finding a look of indifference staring back at her, she turns away without saying a word, the light from the hallway dimming once more.

"That wench spilled crocodile tears."

"Jung-Won ah," Yoon-Seo expresses tiredly. "She said she was sorry."

"I don't care. It wasn't genuine. She acts up because you're the only one that gives way to her."

Yoon-Seo gets up to drag Jung-Won away and out into the hall as the latter begins to raise her voice. Their conversation lowers, but you can hear the last bit of it as they step outside.

"What would you like me to do then?"

"You don't have to do anything," Jung-Won reasons. "I'm only saying I don't tolerate her or her victim mentality, and neither should you."

"Shouldn't we head out too?" You turn to Jun-Hee.

He shakes his head lightly. "Stay and rest a bit more."

"I really am fine." You give his hand a squeeze in affirmation. Despite saying so, you continue to shiver in only your thin white button-up still damp in random patches from being submerged earlier.

Jun-Hee opens the backpack by his feet and tugs out his uniform cardigan, wrapping it around your shoulders. "Here, put this on. You're still cold to the touch."

"Then what about you? Sitting in wet clothes isn't comfortable."

"I have extras I brought with me." Jun-Hee's name tag still pinned to the sweater falls into his line of vision and he can't help smiling to himself that you haven't noticed it's positioned right over your heart. "Plus, it looks better on you anyway."

"It what?" You lean forward, tilting your ear in his direction, not sure if you heard correctly or if they were still water-logged.

"Nothing," Jun-Hee evades, suppressing his smile. It seemed too far-fetched a thing for him to say in either circumstance, so you leave it be, not wanting to wander down the winding paths of your own thoughts. He crouches down and draws the heel of your socked foot to rest on his knee, his free hand untying the laces of your shoes placed to the side.

"I can do it myself," you tell him, flustered from all the attention you were receiving.

Without looking up, Jun-Hee proceeds to put your sneakers on your feet. "I know you can." He goes so far as to knot them tight, tying bows on both sides. "But I want to do it for you." His fingers reach out to trace the shoelaces all the way to the ends of the aglets, remembrance in his eyes.

Embarrassed, you put your feet back on the ground but he looks up at you, eyes twinkling with mischief. "You kept them."

"Of course, I did." You gaze down at your shoes. "You gave them to me."

His own white sneakers come into view, and you wonder why you never noticed his laces, dyed in your favorite color, and yours in his own. "So did I. I didn't think you would."

"Why not?" You toe his shoes with yours. "Just because we made them during summer camp a few years back? A gift is a gift," you reply, nearly pouting.

He laughs at the faux cross tone of your voice, but as his eyes trail upward, the sound chokes and dies off at the end. "Uh...your shirt's now see-through..." He coughs awkwardly and stands up, looking away, a slight tinge of pink dusting his cheeks. "I'll see you out there." Jun-Hee picks up his backpack, hurriedly slinging it over one shoulder before turning to look back at you once more before leaving.

Only a short bit of time has passed, but the moment you step back out with Jun-Hee's cardigan on, you slam straight into Hyun-Ho. He steadies you by the upper arms, eyes widening upon seeing you. "Seol-Hwa!" Before you can react, he throws his arms around you and gives you the most suffocating of hugs, larger form squeezing you tight as his arms encase you, rocking back and forth.

"Hyun-Ho. Can't. Breathe." Your voice comes out punctuated, every pause a ragged intake of air.

He lets go soon after, yanking your head every which way to assess for any injuries.

"Ouch!" you exclaim. Hyun-Ho doesn't know how to control his strength so every pat comes out more like slaps. "Alright!" You try to push his hands away but they're hell bent on checking your well-being. "Ok! That's enough!" You say with finality, laughter bubbling up as your cousin continues to shake you around like a rag-doll. "Yah! If I didn't have any bruises, I sure do now!"

Hyun-Ho steps back, chiding. "Where's the thank you, huh?"

"For giving me new injuries?"

"Is that how you repay me?" Hyun-Ho scoffs. "I was the one who found you in the pool first."

"Y-You were?!" You splutter. "How come no one told me?"

"I said I found you. I wasn't the one who saved you." He shrugs like it was common knowledge.

"Aish." You shove his shoulder but he stands his ground, not budging an inch. "And you're thick-skinned enough to request a word of thanks?"

"Obviously." He flicks you on the forehead, drawing a scowl from you. "I went and got Jun-Hee for you."

"Ok, and...?" You're more baffled than ever.

"Geez, this ungrateful brat." Hyun-Ho tries but fails to hide his smirk. "Who do you think handed you over so you could be carried by Jun-Hee all the way to the infirmary?"

"What?!"

"You looked more comfortable in his arms than on my back, but really, it was no big deal." He shrugs. "All in a day's work for me."

"You—" you point a finger at him, gawking and at a loss for words.

"Also, nice change of outfit by the way." He raps his forefinger on Jun-Hee's nameplate, nails clacking on the piece of plastic. "I know it's your favorite brand."

You gasp as you finally notice, immediately unpinning the white rectangle and slipping it in your skirt pocket. "I'm going to kill him," you mutter under your breath.

"Why not kiss him instead?" Hyun-Ho jests, knowing well enough by now to evade your incessant slaps to his back, running down the hallway as you give chase after.

The two of you come to a stop when the rest of your classmates congregate from the other end of the hallway where Jun-Hee and So-Mi were making an announcement about retiring for the night and trying to contact the teacher again tomorrow morning.

Yoon-Seo taps your shoulder from behind and tilts her phone screen toward you where a timer has popped up.

Before anyone can so much as take a step toward their rooms, the intercom comes to life.

[ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴅs ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ. ]

With everything that has happened since you got here, the mafia game had slipped from your mind.

Suddenly, Yoon-Seo's meter starts counting down from 59 seconds, and with the ding comes a renewed sense of excitement from everyone around you, sleep long forgotten.

While Yool and his friends incessantly chatter away, trying to place blame on one another in good fun, you're the exception. Questioning the origins of the game, you feel a sense of foreboding, an ill-omened current in the air. You were known among your friends to have good instincts, but you hope against all hope that this time, your intuition wouldn't be true.

Jun-Hee walks over beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder that makes you jump out of your skin. "Seol-Hwa...? Did you hear anything I said?"

Hands trembling, you grip onto the rolled-up sleeve cuff of his shirt. "I...don't think we should've voted."

You eye the shaking numbers on Jun-Hee's phone screen, growing shades redder by the minute as it nears zero. He doesn't get a chance to reply as successive announcements come in.

[ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ. ʜᴇᴏ ʏᴏᴏʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ]

Seconds later, Yool lets out a guttural scream of agony, clutching the side of his head.

"Oi, look at this kid. Gosh, he's just begging for attention again," Eun-Ha utters with clarity, unfazed by Yool's prankster tendencies. While everyone laughs at her statement and his actions, you study his face contorted in pain, veins popping up in his neck.

That kind of intensity isn't for show.

"Jun-Hee...Something's not right," you undertone tremulously, fingers slackening from the grip you had on him. The moment those words leave your lips, Yool falls to the ground, slumped over.

As his friends crowd around, Jun-Hee is rooted to the spot, intertwining your hand with his, holding on tight. You can tell he wants to go help as well, but he keeps throwing glances down at you and ultimately decides against it.

A sickening cracking sound has you sliding your eyes slowly over to see Yool's neck snapping rearward, the rest of his body contorting into a standing position in descending parts. Like a puppet controlled on a string, his limbs bend in odd angles, much more grotesque and inhumane compared to his earlier stint in the gymnasium. As his head straightens again, screams ring out down the length of the hallway.

You press yourself against the wall, finding it hard to breathe as you look directly into Yool's rolled eyes, now completely white, no irises in sight.

The White Butterfly's Murder.

You knew. You knew that butterflies were often seen in the spring as a divination of death, a harbinger of impending demise if it were to encircle someone while in flight. But to have it be white, the color of innocence yet also the color of surrender, you can't help but to wonder if these were all signs you should've heeded. Would we still have ended up here?

Eyes are windows to the soul, they say. Here, you realize, now stands a soulless individual.

Eun-Chan and Yeon-Woo have both fallen to the floor in a heap, staring up at their now unrecognizable friend with nothing but absolute fear in their expressions.

A mindless Yool throws himself side to side, intentionally crashing his head against pictures framed on the wall, glass shattering into a million pieces and raining the floor with shards akin to glitter.

But not all that glitters is gold.

You can't tell if it's the glass reflecting light, or if your tears are distorting your vision, but the scene hazes and blurs, turning into the illusion of a haunted nightmare you so desperately want to wake up from.

The horrific effect doesn't end there as Yool proceeds to crouch down and thump his head repeatedly against the floor, prostrating himself as if he's paying for sins he doesn't even remember; sins he can't even begin to atone for.

Blood is pouring in rivulets down his face, pooling around him like the expanding rings of a target, leaving only the center for his body to stay dead centered.

A broken sound escapes from your lips and Jun-Hee pulls you into his arms, shielding you against him, screening your eyes from having to look any further. Where your ear is pressed against his chest, you can hear the pounding of his heart, but even that sound alone is not enough to drown out that of Yool's head bashing against linoleum.

You squeeze your eyes tight, hard enough until you see spots, but these faint flickers of light are not lucky stars you can wish upon tonight.

If you could, you'd wish to be able to wake up. To start again from the beginning.

But you can't.

Rather, frozen in this cruel reality, you can only escape once you cease to wake up again.

And Yool does just that.

A thousand footsteps running toward a bitter end.

A crash as hope falls apart.

A thud to cease the beating of a heart.

And then...complete silence.

Before you lose consciousness, you feel that same vice-like grip from the pool return in full force, unbreakable chains around your heart.

This time, you're not sure anyone will come to your rescue.

This time, you don't know if you'll make it out alive.

𝟬𝟭 : 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗗𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘 | 𝟬𝟯 : 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

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claymorexpunisher · 4 months

Text

Brats Have More Fun (5/?) (18+ Fic)

Pairing(s): Damian Priest/Fem. Reader

Summary: Bratty Reader thinks she's being cute by shamelessly defying the orders of her vampire boyfriend, Damian...

DISCLAIMER: This is NSFW/has NSFW elements. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately, so if you choose to click on my work regardless, use your own discretion. Thank you for the love and enjoy this cheesy porno! 🥂

Chapter Tags: 18+, smut, orgasm denial, kink, sadism, masochism, flogging, sex toy, g-spot stimulation, vampire!Damian, human!Reader.

Word Count: 1,430

Prev. Chapter

Damian was very much the walking motto of ‘if they wanted to, they would…”

He lived by it, not just whenever I needed affection or a shoulder to cry on, but also when it came to handing out punishments.

Or in today’s case- funishments.

That was one of the most exciting aspects of dating a vampire; he could be anywhere at any given time in under 2 seconds if he so wished.

And sometimes I either forgot that he could, or I chose to forget and got him riled up any way that I could.

Today as we were texting back and forth, our conversation got increasingly flirtatious and my mouth got smarter, daring him to set me straight.

Being a smartass, I let Damian know that I was up to no good, wanting to bring myself some much-needed relief even though he’d explicitly told me to wait till he arrived the following week.

Naturally that was a bit too much of an agonizing wait for me, so I decided to take matters into my own hands…

I thought I was safe because Damian was currently on the road with WWE.

But one minute I was getting comfortable in our bed, in one of Damian’s T-shirts, giggling to myself after sending him a soundless video of myself with my legs spread wide atop the bed sheets and my fingers toying between my legs.

My sensitive clit was snug between my middle and ring finger, ready to make me burst.

Giggling because upon noticing the blue check mark that signaled to me that he had seen my little video message, I knew I was in deep shit.

Another thing I had definitely forgotten, was the manually and app-operated vibrator that rested snug inside my pussy.

Of course, I hadn’t forgotten that it was there necessarily, considering that every time I so much as breathed, the curved tip of the toy brushed right up against my sweet spot, making me moan softly every so often.

I could hear how wet I was, and the crude only served in making me that much more aroused.

My skin was hot to the touch, feeling tingly, as if every nerve ending before Damian even appeared.

My amusement was short lived as not 5 seconds later, the toy thrummed to life inside of me, causing my body to momentarily lock up as my mouth now hung open, the sudden pleasure trapping any tangible sound except a choked-off whimper and needy pants.

As a moan was finally ripped from my lips, a familiar deep chuckle flooded the bedroom.

“Why do you do this to yourself every time, nena?” Damian asked, his tone amused, his phone in his hand, and his brows raised halfway up to his hairline.

His face was openly playful, like the cat who caught the canary unaware as he watched me writhe and moan and pant, already feeling dangerously close to the edge.

“I don’t-… I cant- fuck!” I tried to come up with a smartassed reply now, but nothing came to mind as the pleasure ricocheted, the toy relentlessly buzzed against my sweet spot, making beads of sweet collect along my brow and on my neck, damn near every part of my body thrumming along with the vibrations of the toy.

My eyes stayed open for all 2 seconds, long enough to watch him slowly saunter into our bedroom, his brown eyes almost black as he came closer, hungrily licking his lips like a panther ready to pounce.

They closed again as Damian’s expert fingers danced teasingly along the insides of my thighs.

I whined desperately as his touch suddenly disappeared and my heartbeat picked up its pace as he moved from the edge of our bed to our closet, pulling out some of the secret compartments where we kept more toys.

Watching him grab a flogger and begin to twirl it slowly in his hands made me forget about wanting to cum momentarily.

My gaze focused on him, salivating at the way the flogger moved smoothly in his hand and the way his muscled arms flexed with each motion.

But I snapped out of it once he came back to the edge of the bed again.

“What’s your color?” Damian asked simply, trying to gauge if I was still up for what he had in store.

“Green.” I nodded and noticeably gulped at the sight of the anticipatory quirk of his lips.

He had chosen the one with the thickest tails and so I knew that it wasn’t going to hurt terribly, and yet my heart still skipped a nervous beat for what else he had in mind.

Damian ordered me to keep my legs spread, the toy still buzzing inside of me, and I jumped the first time the strands of the flogger landed along the insides of my thigh, dangerously close to my sensitive pussy.

“What’s the one thing I asked you to not to do while I was gone?” Damian asked, his tone now suddenly severe as I cried out only in slight pain as the tails of the flogger came into slight contact with my labia as he began to swing it closer and closer to my pussy.

My back arched as the flogger suddenly hit the toy, shifting it inside of me and nudging that much more against my sweet spot.

I nearly forgot that Damian had asked a question before I made myself remember.

“Uh… yo- you told me not to cum until you got back from being on tour- ungh, I’m sorry!!” I whimpered; my voice shaky as I bit my lip to the point of pain as the tails of the flogger momentarily zapped my clit.

Damian shook his head as he suddenly stopped his strikes with the flogger and flipped over in his hand, now using the handle of the flogger to tease my clit.

I cursed, groaning and whimpering from somewhere deep in my gut at the combined feeling of the toy zinging against my sweet spot and the firm handle of the flogger working the sensitive bud between my legs.

“You said that last time, princesa… I don’t know if I believe you.” Damian tsked, his voice still firm but his eyes gave away the fun he was having.

We both knew this was what I wanted.

What we both craved sometimes.

I craved to be tamed and put in my place and he craved to fulfill that for me...

“No, I- I am! I promise!” I keened, obediently keeping my hands on the sheets even as Damian settled himself between my legs, tossing the flogger to the side and replacing it with his mouth as his hands rubbed the spots on my thighs that were warmer due to the impact of the flogger.

His tongue swirled and swirled, and my stomach tightened and tightened.

My breath quickened as I once again came dangerously close to cumming, but I let out a groan of disappointment as Damian stopped.

“Nooo. Don’t stop, please!” I begged.

Damian smirked at the desperation in my voice, surely using his powers to dive into my mind and hearing me cuss him out.

And he reached for his phone that he had set on the bedside table, but at this point, I didn’t know if I was grateful or pissed off that the buzzing against my sweet spot abruptly stopped.

I wanted to obey but I was desperate to cum.

“What number am I thinking of? 1-10.”

Oh no...

My heart sank into the pit of my stomach as soon as the question left Damian’s lips, now knowing what he planned on doing.

The toy’s settings went up to 11.

If I guessed wrong, the toy would be set on the next highest setting.

“A-are you sure you have time for that?” I replied, my jaw trembled, and my teeth chattered as the need for release increasingly became too much.

“I could get to the next town in about two seconds if I wanted to. But you know that, don’t you, baby?” Damian purred, knowing I just wanted to move things along.

“In the meantime, why don’t I-… we,” he amended, chuckling to himself. “-have some fun… pick a number, princesita.” He said in a condescending tone.

His tongue rested on one of his gleaming fangs that sprung out before I could blink, that look of hungry desire never leaving his dark eyes.

I was quickly finding out that his motto wasn’t just ‘If they wanted to, they would’…

It was also ‘fuck around and find out’…

Next Chapter

#damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest x female reader #damian priest smut #damian priest fan fiction #wwe smut #wwe fanfic #wrestling smut #brats have more fun

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valnevo · 1 year

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grudges, chapter one | jake sully x male aligned reader

there definitely aren't enough jake x male aligned readers for my liking, especially with a dominant/controlling reader, so im taking this into my own hands. it's been quite some time since i've written, and never has it been on this app, just to warn everyone in advance.

anything in italics is in na'vi, the rest being in english.

summary | jake needs to get close to the natives of pandora so he can encourage them to relocate their homes, but he can't do so without the help of y/n, a standoffish na'vi man with no interest in helping jake without getting something for himself. enemies to friends to lovers type beat, just angst and fluff for the time being. warnings include: cursing, blood, violence.

it was far past eclipse and jake still hadn't found his way back to the base nor had he gotten any signals from his team. it was his first time out as his avatar, and he was helplessly lost in the jungle that he had been told was trying to kill him.

the sky people were clueless, is what y/n held true. he knew pandora, he knew eywa, and he knew the cycle of life and death, the balance of nature, was not simply existing to fill the ego and aggression of the aliens.

y/n had recently found sleeping in their hammocks to be incredibly lonely. he was still young, though he acted older than others his age, but he had only his mother left. she had just fallen ill, so he had spent much of his time working with mo'at to learn the art of healing. all the while, he trained alongside tsu'tey as most men of the tribe chose to. in previous years, they simply trained to hunt, protect themselves, and occasionally quarrel with other tribes on the area, but nothing tended to progress past intimidation tactics. since the invasion of the sky people, their warriors had become all the more urgent in their training.

this particular night, the world around y/n seemed too quiet. his mother tended to stay with others who were more skilled at helping her when her breathing became shallow or her heart put in too much work, so he laid surrounded by empty hammocks. just as he did most nights, he waited until the others were asleep so he wouldn't have to worry about disturbing them. y/n climbed through the trees, gracefully and silently swinging from branch to branch and carefully watching his steps at he headed towards farther out trees. he had always been taught that there was safety in numbers, so the animals of pandora veered away from the home tree, knowing it was shelter to the na'vi. out here, the sounds around him were much more overwhelming, and the sights were different than what he was used to. it had become a habit for him to climb into the tallest trees he could find and settle himself into a crook in the branches. it was killing his back by the time he woke up, but it was the one time his mind was at peace.

jake had been frantically waving his makeshift torch for what felt like hours. finding some what of a clearing, he slumped down against the study trunk of a tree and dug the end of his spear into the ground so he could tend to the light wounds along his legs. he wasn't anything like the rest of the na'vi. he was clumsy and slow, each step making far too much noise that would attract all kinds of unwanted beasts.

y/n was not particularly thrilled by the slight shaking of the tree and the grumbling below him. he scowled before howling out, some edge in his voice that he used to warn whoever was near of y/n's presence.

"oh, shit", jake snapped in response to his spear fell into the water nearby, the light diminishing and the weapon being whisked away from him. just as y/n had gotten comfortable in his spot and started to enjoy the natural noises around him. he groaned loudly and rose to his feet, then used vines and the engraved footing of the tree to make his way onto the ground.

"hey! don't you know people are trying to-", he paused, noticing the unusual attire jake had on. the na'vi knew the sky people had been entering their grounds, dream walking in a, failed, attempt to get closer to them. they thought the na'vi were stupid, ignorant to their antics. but the natives were keeping tabs on those that entered, the main group of scientists normally sticking together with a few every now and then staying back.

"you're new", y/n commented, switching to the language so many had been taught by the sky people. then, it seemed like an act of peace, but the charade was clear soon after many of them learned their language. "you're just a kid", he then laughed softly, stepping back to look at jake. his puzzled expression amused y/n, clearly he had hit a nerve. "i don't know what sort of kids you're used to, but i'm not a damn kid", he grumbled as he stood up from the tree, matching y/n's eye. he was right, that was no kid. he was only slightly shorter than y/n, and more defensive than any of the other sky people had been when they first met. jake's knife was drawn, but the other's demeanor stayed steady.

after staring for a few moments, y/n scoffed and held his hands up so the other could see he had no weapons. "look, here. no knives, no guns. stand down", he ordered as he took a step back and nodded to his right. "your people are that way. go home. you're not welcome here, nor are you safe". for y/n's usual temper, he definitely thought he was handling the situation well. of course, jake was not quite in the same position, stubborn and intrusive.

"no."

"no?"

"no, im not going back."

y/n was baffled. the other dream walkers had, at the very least, some decency. they spoke to him in the na'vi language, they listened and attempted to make an empathetic connection. jake held none of these skills.

"you must be misunderstanding. you have no where but to go if not home. go", y/n persisted, attempting to look relaxed but failing to let his guard down. jake only shook head.

"no, you know i won't make it. i'll die out there, with nothing but-" he shook his knife, causing y/n to bear his teeth and his ears to flatten against his head "-this? you know i won't make it. you're sending me off to die, yeah?".

y/n laughed, but his tail swishing back and forth rapidly showed that it wasn't one of entertainment. "you think i care if you live or die? you idiot. i care that you leave my home and my people, whether that means that you make it back to your camp or not."

their eyes stayed locked as y/n continued to back up towards the tree he was staying in. he only turned his back once he raced up the tree, constantly glancing over his shoulder to keep tab of the foreigner's whereabouts. jake didn't move until y/n was out of his sight. though, jake never left the other male's sight as he peered through the leaves, watching as jake attempted to repeat his actions. he slowly made his way up a neighboring tree, slipping on moss and nearly losing his grip countless times. somehow, he made it, and he felt much safer far above the ground than he had before.

jake passed out almost immediately, the day had physically and mentally exhausted him. he couldn't have been more relieved to end his link. y/n, on the other hand, didn't sleep at all. his eyelids grew heavy as pandora beckoned him into a slumber, but he persisted on watching the clumsy avatar stay in the tree beside him.

when morning came, y/n made his way down the tree and found a few others wandering the ground below. after greeting them, he splashed his face with water and tried to keep himself alert. he'd sleep when the dream walker returned home. y/n also knew that he'd be killed if he were to be discovered by any of the other less empathetic and traumatized men of his tribe. he'd need to make sure he'd get home safe, which was only more dangerous with others walking around on the ground below him.

y/n climbed up the tree jake was in and sat by him, taking in his features while he had the chance. all in all, he was a freak. from his extra fingers to the smell of chemicals that he reeked of, there was no way he could sneak past anyone without being caught and murdered. he then maneuvered the knife from his hand, careful not to wake him up, as y/n didn't understand nothing could wake an avatar without it's human making a link. he attached the knife to the strap of his loincloth before he leaned his head against one of the branches near by. unfortunately, his sleep deprivation got the best of him.

upon waking up, both of the males were startled to say the least. jake immediately reached for his knife and broke into a slew of curses when it wasn't there, attempting to dive for it on y/n's hip. instead, y/n countered by twisting his arm and pinning it to his side, hissing in his face to catch his attention.

"you fucker, give it back", jake nearly pleaded, jerking his arm away. y/n scoffed and hopped to his feet, towering over the other as he drew his own knife on him.

"you're going to do as i say. for the love of eywa, do not do anything stupid and don't get yourself killed, alright?" y/n questioned as the tip of the blade was inches away from jake's nose. he nodded in agreement, remembering the conversation he had with grace. he needed to win y/n over and avoid making enemies, no matter the cost.

y/n was pleased with his work, he had led jake far from the home tree without anyone noticing. he had jake's braid coiled in his hand with a knife to it, just after he explained that a swish of the blade would be fatal.

"what's your name?", jake questioned after a long walk of silence. y/n didn't respond.

"i'm jake sully. i'm new here, to pandora and being an avatar, but im not a kid. just... a friend of grace's". y/n had no clue who grace was, he was never keen on learning the names of the aliens. names were the first step to attachment.

"alright, kid", y/n retorted, watching jake's annoyed reaction to his complete dismissal of his question. then, y/n paused, tugging his braid to get his attention and adjusting the knife to his throat.

"you can make it the rest of the way, i don't want to get that close. now, you avoid dying and let the rest of your friends know that we what them out, okay? leave us alone", y/n muttered before he pressed the knife flat against jake's chest so he'd have at least something to defend himself with. jake didn't make any promises he couldn't keep, and instead headed back without another word.

that night, y/n spent an eternity in one of the creeks attempting to remove the smell of jake. he then tied his hair up and headed back towards the home tree, his first stop being in one of the medical tents. he spent a few hours with his mother, checking on her breathing with the aid of other healers, and simply talking to her about the past day once the others had given them some privacy. he could confide in his mother about jake sully. she had lost her ability to communicate, but y/n never ceased to tell himself that she could surely comprehend what her son was telling her.

y/n, stupidly, fell asleep in the same tree that night, and woke up to jake walking across a vine towards him and narrowly avoiding falling on multiple occasions. "no!", y/n shrieked, suddenly realizing he had not ridded himself of the demon. "leave! go home, now!", he beckoned, crouching down instead of laying on his back as he had been earlier. it was too vulnerable of a position.

jake had a stupid grin plastered across his faced as he simply stated, "we're friends". he had learned a na'vi word. y/n was puzzled, staring at the alien in horror. "absolutely not. you don't know me. you are not one of us", y/n tried to explain as he took a defensive position. he was more aggressive than he had been the night before, beginning to worry that neytiri and tsu'tey had been right when they warned never to trust an alien.

jake unclipped his knife from his belt, followed by his gun, and placed them between the two. "but i could be. i look like you, and with your help i think i could-", y/n cut him off with a laugh. "you look nothing like me!".

after he tossed the weapons away from his reach, though the gun was of no use to him, he had never learned, he stepped closer to jake and forcefully grabbed his hand. "we are nothing alike. youre a freak, a five-fingered freak with demon blood and burning greed for our land". y/n pressed their palms together, holding his own knife up with his free hand and applying pressure to his last finger with the sharp blade, as if he were going to cut it off. he only retracted when he drew blood, watching it spill over his hand. really, the wound was nothing serious.

y/n then pulled away with a grunt, glaring at the foreigner's blood on his dark skin, even though it was his own doing. jake was wearing a defeated expression, barely even flinching when he cut into him. "please", he mumbled and reached back out for his hand, his eyebrows knitting together in worry. "i'm a quick learner, and i want to put in the work to becoming omatikaya. to being friends."

y/n shook his head, scooping the smaller gun and knife into his hands as he turned away. "i don't want anything to do with you, jake sully. you have no importance to me and-" jake quickly cut him off, grabbing his arm. "we know how to help your mother".

y/n was stunned. how did jake know about his mother? how did they intend on helping her? who was they? he turned his head around with an evident look of concern on his face, hoping he didn't show the relief that flooded over him when he heard the statement. "how do you know about my mother?" he asked quietly, his shoulders slumping from his normal perfect posture.

the two spent the rest of the evening talking about what the sky people knew, and their plans for pandora. jake avoided key details, including their plan to destroy the home tree. the sky people knew y/n's mother was important in the clan, and the sudden decline in her health was affecting moral, especially of one of their best warriors, y/n. the humans had medicines that weren't available on pandora, and they believed that it could, at least, stop the spread of the disease. at best, she would be cured.

y/n wasn't an emotional guy. he didn't allow himself to get worked up over what jake was telling him, staying silent for the most part and attempting to force information out of him. jake didn't particularly enjoy talking so much, but y/n knew exactly what to do to keep the conversation going without revealing much about himself.

by the end of the night the two had come to an agreement. he would guide jake, learning the basics of what it meant to be na'vi, until he didn't seem to be a useless dream walker. until then, he would keep his avatar safe when jake unlinked and slept. jake hoped this meant he would be accepted into the tribe and find someone that detested him a little less to make him "one of the people". in return, grace would survey his mother, vrrnu, and administer the potentially life saving drug.

"alright, but if anything changes, jake sully, i want you to know i would feel no guilt, nor shame, with demon blood on my hands", he reminded as he held up his hand, already smeared with jake's blood.

"just jake is fine", he replied, ignoring the rest of the words he spoke. he was settling into the tree as y/n did the same a few feet away from him. once again, he handed him the knife in case something were to happen during sun down.

"will you tell me your name now?", jake question, his ears perked up as he looked in the other's direction.

"it's y/n. now sleep", he stated without emotion, refusing himself any shut eye until he witnessed jake completely unlink and leave his avatar.

#avatar #jake sully #jake sully x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #jake sully imagine #jake sully headcanon #avatar 2009 #jake sully x top male reader

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scarletwritesshit · 3 months

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🍸 Gallagher x Reader 🍸Solitude of the Dreaming City

The typically bustling streets were unusually silent and empty for this time of night. The only wandering souls out and about were those who perhaps had an errand to run, or the oddities who preferred to roam the streets in solitude to indulging in a dreaming delusion. Some continued to run their businesses into the wee hours of the night; though not very profitable, it still served as their own form of escapism.

The bareness of the streets suggested that the bar that you frequented would be peacefully quiet and empty, free of untamable crowds. It wasn’t so much a drink that you were craving at this hour, but rather, the company of Gallagher, the enigmatic bartender. He never was one for talking about himself, leaving what conclusions you could draw as being no better than mere theories. Nonetheless, you did have frequent conversations with him, especially on the quietest nights with not an eavesdropper in the vicinity.

You opened up the door and the bell above you rang gently, signaling your arrival. The atmosphere was just about what you expected; silence laying thick in the room with the exception of quiet music playing in the background.

Around this time, Gallagher was usually cleaning up for the day, wiping down dirty tables and polishing drinking glasses till they were crystal clear. Currently, you saw him standing behind the table, with a soapy sponge in hand vigorously cleaning out a glass that appeared to be the unfortunate victim of a particularly sloppy drinker. He held it up to a light in front of him, checking for any spots before he dared put it back in its proper place. For a moment, he was focused on the blemishes that still remained, until his eyes caught sight of you through the glass.

"Sit wherever you’d like,” Gallagher said, still polishing out the last of the blemishes on the glass.

You took a seat in front of him, and you watched intently as he continued polishing away.

"What will it be tonight?" he asked as he put the glass away to tend to your order.

The answer to that, you hadn’t thought quite that far yet. The purpose of a bar was to satisfy one’s thirst for a drink, yet you had yet to consider that perhaps it was your time to fulfill that very purpose. It was truthfully worth it to simply watch Gallagher as he tended to the upkeeping of his business, but you had your doubts that he was going to accept that and nothing further as your order.

"Oh uh, I haven’t really thought about it yet," you admitted.

"You were looking at me as if you had something in particular that you wanted to request," he observed. "Perhaps something better curated to how you feel might be more suitable than a specific flavor?"

He looked at you as if he could read your every emotion as plainly as if it were written in an open book. You had frequented the place enough times for him to be able to easily tell what was on your mind from your mannerisms alone. Come in looking a little sad, and he would craft you something soft to soothe your weary soul. If you were in particularly high spirits, he would mix up something sweet with a kick to it to fuel you through the evening. A bartender’s gift, perhaps. Or in this case, a curse, as he must be able to tell that you were more preoccupied with talking to him than ordering a drink, as he gave you a smile that hinted that he knew all. And the little bit of flush on your face wasn’t helping your defense either.

"I…don’t know, maybe nothing too overwhelming, yet not dull enough to put me to sleep?” you said, attempting to squeeze in a request before he got any funny ideas.

It seemed to be too late for that, as no matter what you would’ve asked of him, Gallagher appeared to already have plans for you himself. At your request, he smiled and nodded, and grabbed a freshly cleaned glass and slid it to the side. He took a few limes from a bowl on the counter behind him and laid them in a pile. Gallagher picked up one of the limes, which appeared even smaller than it actually was in his massive hand, and shoved his thumb into it and pulled it into halves with ease. Some juice squirted out of the flesh and trickled down his worn, calloused hands, dampening his gloves with sticky, sour juices. He took one half in each hand and squeezed the juice into the cup, then sat aside the drained halves and repeated with another lime.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” he said as he worked at the limes.

“Oh, I was just…in the area I guess,” you said, in an attempt to not divulge your ulterior motives.

“In the area to see me, if I’m not mistaken,” he said with a wink, putting the last of the squeezed limes aside.

“Well, not exactly. You’re always by yourself at this time of night and so I- “

“Figured that I could use some company. The look in your eyes tell me everything.”

“…Perhaps,” you admitted, shying away from his gaze for a moment, “but who else is there to talk to at this hour?”

“There are quite a few other, much more livelier places, yet you chose to come back to the solitude here,” he said, flipping a bottle of tequila in the air, catching it in his hand, and sending the cap flying off with a single flick of his thumb. “Wouldn’t you rather head somewhere more entertaining?”

“It’s pretty dead outside, plus I’d rather chat with a close friend than try to fit in with a bunch of strangers.”

“Completely understandable,” he said as he watched the tequila pour from the bottle and the air bubbles within gurgle to the top. He flipped the bottle back upwards and slapped the cap back on.

You wished that you had more to talk about with him, but with every inquiry you made about his life, he left you with just as little knowledge as you had before. He wasn’t too enthusiastic about sharing any details about his day job as an officer, but a guess of yours was that the issue of confidentiality would arise. Gallagher wasn’t acting as if he were biting his tongue, either, so an equally likely possibility was that he thought that you would harbor little, if any, interest in his routine.

One thing you had learned to never pry at was his past, however. You had only bought up the question to him once, and he simply looked at you wondering why you were so eager to know about something that hardly mattered in the present. You quickly got the message that perhaps, it was a bit of a sensitive topic for him, hence why he never discussed it with you prior.

Gallagher was his own kind of enigma. The visible wear and tear on his body told a story on its own, from his beat-up hands to the scars he very lazily hid with bandages. You wanted to pry and learn of every tale that his body had to tell, but out of respect for him, you decided to leave those conversations to him to bring up.

Even more curious was how gracefully and gallantly he handled the strawberries in his rough, scarred hands, slicing the leaves off with such admirable speed and precision while leaving the plump fruit without as much as a dent. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of the small silver knife he slid through the tops of the fruit, while handing the flesh itself with such care and precision.

The tips of his white glove became stained a light pink from the strawberry juices, but it bothered him not as he was slicing the strawberries and tossing them into a blender. When he was satisfied with the amount he had prepared, he topped it off with some ice, secured the lid, and turned it on a rather high setting. It ran with such speed and force, yet he held it down with one hand as he put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with the other.

"I’ve never seen such grace in slicing strawberries, of all things," you said.

"It’s an acquired skill, I guess," he said, turning off the blender and pouring the mixture into the glass.

"Bet you’ve become honed through some real interesting experiences in life…”

"A combination of the two factors, maybe."

He grabbed one of the juiced limes and ran it around the edge of the glass, coating the top in sticky juices. His glove, covered in a concoction of strawberry and lime juices, was now starting to stick to his hand, so after taking the cigarette out of his mouth for a moment, he peeled off the sticky glove with his teeth, then spat it aside.

With his tattered hand now free, he grabbed a scoop of sugar crystals and sprinkled them along the edge of the glass, some falling onto the freshly cleaned counter. When he determined that it was blended thoroughly enough, he turned the blender off, popped the lid off, and poured its contents into the glass. With a swift flick of his surprisingly nimble wrist, he slid the glass over in front of you, not even spilling as much as a single drop.

He allowed you to add the finishing touch to his masterpiece by taking a few various colored straws between his fingers and presented them to you for you to select one that was to your liking.

"All done," he said, using his free hand to briefly take the cigarette out of his mouth.

You grabbed the straw that was most appealing to you, and he swiftly flipped the others back into the jar. Before taking a sip, you spared a moment to indulge yourself in the aroma of his expertly crafted concoction. It smelled very strongly of strawberries with just a zing of alcohol, enough to keep you in high spirits but not knock you out in an instant. You went to sample the drink, when Gallagher abruptly spun the straw towards him with a single flick of his finger.

"Wait a moment. Forgot something," he said.

Gallagher pulled out a rose from a vase that was on display on the counter. He plucked a couple of vibrant red petals and laid them on top of your drink to diffuse their flavor into the liquid. Then, he turned the straw back to you with a smile.

"What was that for?" you asked.

"A good drink is comprised of the heart and soul of both consumer and craftsman. I’d say a rose is pretty fitting for a time like now, no?"

Oh. So he meant it like that. You had to admit, the drink did taste pretty damn good infused with the rose petals, but Gallagher couldn’t make himself any more obvious at this point. As his words sank in, you remained silent as you kept your mouth on the straw, even without sipping the drink.

"No need to be shy around me, dear. It wasn’t hard to figure out why you’ve been choosing to crash at this place coincidentally when attendance was at a low," he said, looking at you as he rested his arm on the table.

"Aha, well..." you said, unable to find the words to defend yourself with.

"This ones on me, if you’d be willing to stay and chat just a little while longer.”

"Sure but, I thought you said that a drink is made from feelings of both...surely you don’t mean-"

"Hey, my offer stands regardless. Take it or leave it, you still won’t owe me any credits in the end."

"I wouldn’t mind sticking around to chat with you for a bit," you said, shyly twirling the straw around.

As he was wiping the juices from his hands with a towel, he smiled, satisfied with both his cleverly crafted beverage and your acceptance of his invitation.

"And... I do wish I could see you more often outside of your occupations."

"You and me both, sweetheart," he said, brushing some of your hair aside. "Thankfully, I doubt I’ll be seeing any more customers come in tonight, if it is truly as dead as you claim it to be out there.”

"From how the streets were looking, I assure you that the chances of someone else craving a drink at this hour are very slim.”

"Well, perfect time for a first date then, I’d say,” Gallagher said as he stood up to prepare a drink for himself.

“Agreed,” you said, pulling out a chair next to you for him to sit at.

#gallagher #hsr gallagher #gallagher x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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itssmean · 15 days

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love (tangled) threads | intro

synopsis decelis, where fate's threads remain unseen— park wonbin, gifted with the ability to see fate's unseen threads, attempts to matchmake hong y/n and song eunseok due to eunseok’s past relationship that does not end well. unaware of the twists awaiting them, they discover the true meaning of destiny and love. but what if wonbin's matchmaking efforts backfire? could it be that y/n is actually meant to be eunseok's true soulmate all along?

“So you've been saying that Eunseok hyung locked himself up during this whole weekend?” Sungchan nodded while Wonbin just gagged watching the door which belongs to Eunseok’s room.

“Well you should be grateful that he still ordered some food and still eats it clean, he just wants to be alone for now. Well, he said that he needs to gain more energy to meet people as class starts tomorrow.”

“Oh well, I’m coming here to ask both of you to join me for dinner. And I don’t care even a bit, he needs to come too.” Wonbin insisted and Sungchan just rolled his eyes unlocking Eunseok’s door to coax Eunseok to come with them for dinner. Luckily Eunseok feels good enough to come to join them.

After the chaotic day of the Love Alarm app release, there’s many outcomes that they've received from the other students, some may have gotten into relationships, (kudos to Anton and his girlfriend!) — some might be confused as many people are interested to them (Taesan might take some time to digest after many things happened on that day) and some might be unlucky, their relationship ends as the app reveals their true feelings towards that particular person— and you could say that Eunseok are one of the unlucky person.

“Denial is a river in Egypt!” You could say that there’s countless hints and obvious hatred that is coming from Eunseok’s cliques towards his now called ex-girlfriend. Not to mention Wonbin is the one who is known as their most obvious hater when they are in a relationship. Well how could he? His ability to see the others’ threads of fate didn’t help at all— or maybe it actually helps.

He is the one who encourages Seunghan to confess to his own girlfriend when his girl are suffering with the rare disease called ‘Hanahaki’. Without his help, Seunghan’s girlfriend might not be with him now— as she couldn’t move on with her crush that once rejected her. And Anton’s girlfriend might lose her one and only sister. What a butterfly effect it would be if he didn’t step up to encourage Seunghan. And that’s how he now determines to make sure his friends will meet their soulmate for sure!

But back to the current situation, he’s conflicted as he actually feels bad seeing his friend playing with his own food instead of actually eating it. Eunseok’s pinky that is bound with the red strings that only he can see remains untouched— like how it used to be even when he was still with his ex-girlfriend.

“Do you want me to set you up with someone?” Sungchan asked Eunseok. Sungchan's ill-timed offer to set Eunseok up earned him a sharp kick from Wonbin, who signaled, 'Have some tact—he just broke up!'

“It hurts you jerk!” Sungchan mouthed. Ignoring Sungchan’s grimace, Wonbin just rolled his eyes and continued eating his food. Eunseok just keeps on minding his own business, not interested to interfere with their own shenanigans.

Suddenly, Eunseok’s red strings tensed as it looked like someone tugged his strings towards them. It draws Wonbin’s attention as he furrowed his eyebrows and he traced the strings that are connected with Eunseok.

“Hey, Seunghan and his sister are here. Hey Y/N!” Sungchan waved enthusiastically and smiled brightly towards the siblings that were approaching them. Now why are the threads connected between Eunseok and Y/N.. and it was tangled?

"I think I know who we should set Eunseok up with," Wonbin mused, ignoring Sungchan's scepticism. “Don’t you just disagree with me just now about that?”

As Eunseok's gaze lingered on Y/N, Wonbin couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, she was the one they had been looking for all along.

next.

an | new series dropped! i hope everyone will looking forward to it 😭😭 to avoid confusion please read love (beta) tester first ! and for the profile intro.. let’s just say it is the same as the previous series!

taglist is open!

#kpop social media au #riize scenarios #riize social media au #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize x reader #wonbin fluff #wonbin scenarios #wonbin smau #wonbin x reader #wonbin imagines #wonbin social media au #riize fanfic #riize texts #riize x you #riize smau #wonbin fanfic #wonbin x you #wonbin texts

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luigiblood · 2 months

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I'm going to semi-retire from the game preservation scene.

This is by no means a decision that I took on a whim. I am genuinely sad that it came to be this way, I've been involved in this stuff for a genuinely long time, I've seen many things, met many great people, also the bad and stupid dramas, which shouldn't really be discounted either, even though this was not the kind of thing that affected my decision.

I have no regrets on how I handled my job and I wouldn't have it any other way. But I just don't have the heart anymore. For roughly a year as I'm typing this, I started to seriously resent any attempt at public releases and contextual research.

This kinda sucks for how I want things to be treated with respect. I blame myself for giving myself too much responsibility and was not able to successfully pass down some of it to other people. This definitely did not help as it took a toll mentally speaking. But despite trying to change this, I found out how I just stopped caring about details, and just wanted to move on. I gave myself a little more time to ponder about it, and my final decision is that, yeah: I need to quit, I really don't have the heart anymore for it.

That doesn't mean I want to stop everything though, there are still things I need to do, and still have interests with, like with Satellaview and 64DD, but I want to gradually move away, and eventually pass the baton to people who still has the fuel. But I don't intend to disappear.

I still have a burning passion for the obscure parts of Nintendo, that's not changing any time soon, but the work I've been doing really just felt like a chore, and it was a job I've been doing for years.

I've been involved with Satellaview since around 2008/2009 with my Hello World SNES homebrew adapted for BS-X. The technical knowledge of the Satellaview was just very limited. I've started then a project to at least reveal how the satellite signal worked, and I got it working (then nocash did even further work that shouldn't be discounted, but he's really just too fast at this). It was my first reverse engineering project, and it was very formative, and shaped my knowledge of computer science like never before. I've then worked on emulation and preservation, managing quite a few dumps of Satellaview content.

Then in December 2014 I've had my first version of the 64DD Disk Dumper, done with help from the N64 scene people, on December 31st, all commercial 64DD titles were dumped, then I worked on 64DD emulation for a bunch of emulators, based on the works of Happy_ from MAME, and eventually was able to write my very own emulation code from scratch and higher accuracy than before on Ares. This year will be 10 year anniversary of my 64DD Disk Dumper.

So I've been doing this stuff for like, 15 years at this point, and now... Aside from the fact that I haven't been as into it as I used to, I also got older. I'm at an age where I'm sorta thinking if I want to do other things with my life, but in that case, other things have to be put on the wayside, to an extent.

I can't say what I will bring in the future, I have tons of ideas, and besides, I'm still gonna be behind a few game preservation works here and there, but my involvement will be limited from now on.

Also, Nintendo: Don't think I'm done datamining your NSO apps lol You still have so much shit that we don't have and I'm not gonna give up on having hints.

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fuwushiguro · 2 years

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Turning Diamonds Into Snow

Tetta Kisaki x f!reader Genre: Smut Notes: I know a lot of people hate Kisaki (me included lmao) and he isn't very popular but I hope some of you guys enjoy this Warnings: 18+, dubcon/noncon, smoking, age gap, adultery, model!reader, sir!kink, cocaine use, substance abuse, stockholm syndrome, coercion, degradation, restraints, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, daddy kink, dumbification, slapping, breeding, creampie. Words: 3k

3am.

It’s 3am and you’re alone in a random diner, little hands clutching onto a steaming cup of coffee. You’re dying for it to cool. Not so much that it tastes disgusting, but enough that you can drink it and stop the tremors wracking through your body. People are staring, though it’s nothing new. You suspect they are likely glances of pity.

Because, truly, you look pathetic.

There are a group of boys from another booth looking over at you. Not boys, actually… men. They’re all in suits. They’ve been asking the waitress for coffee refills since you got here two hours ago.

One man is staring more intently than the others. He’s wearing round glasses. His hair combed over to one side, black and blonde streaking through unevenly. You can’t help but notice the tattoo on his hand.

Sin.

You think he might notice you staring when he puts his coffee cup down. Quickly you look away, but soon enough he’s picking it up again. This time with the other hand.

Punishment.

A bolt of fear strikes through you as you realise this group of men may not be ones you should be stuck in a diner with at this ungodly hour.

“I recognise her.” Hanma states, earning a scoff from the group he’s with.

“No shit. You’ve been staring at her since she walked in.” Kisaki explains, shaking his head and fishing around for a cigarette in the pocket of his expensive looking coat. The waitress approaches with the intention of forbidding him from smoking inside. However a deathly glare from the three men in front of her soon deters her. “Who is she?”

“Dunno. I just feel like I’ve seen her somewhere.” Hanma adds, lighting a flame for Kisaki to ignite his cigarette with.

“Probably a hooker,” Mikey chimes in, too busy focusing on his phone to be fully engaged with the conversation. Hanma rolls his eyes and returns to focus on figuring out who you are.

“That sounds right. World class hooker, hah?” Kisaki joins in with the teasing.

World class.

The words unlock something in Shuuji’s mind. World class…

“Oh fuck. She’s famous, boys.” Hanma states. It’s enough to fully steal Mikey’s attention as he raises a sceptical brow and looks in your direction. Kisaki can’t help but do the same, all three of them staring at you as they wonder if there is any truth to what he’s saying. “Give me your phone, I’ll show you.” Hanma asks.

“Huh? Use your own.”

“It’s dead. Hand it over.”

Kisaki sighs and hands his phone over to his friend. Soon enough he’s on the Instagram app and typing in your username. He places the phone down flat on the table to let mikey and Kisaki look through your profile.

“Cute.” Mikey speaks, weakly.

“She’s a model? Very cute.” Kisaki adds.

“See, look, magazine covers and runway stuff too. Not just an Instagram model, she’s a real one.” he tells them, almost as if he’s defending your honour and life choices.

Kisaki stubs out his cigarette on the table, shuffling out of the booth and standing to his feet. He folds his coat over himself. “Thanks for the tip.” he winks as he walks towards you. Hanma groans, furious he didn’t act first when he had the upper hand.

You stiffen when you notice this terrifying man is actually walking towards you. He smiles, you think he might be trying to ease your nerves. But his smile isn’t sincere, that much is clear. You feel even more scared, if anything.

“Need a refill, sweetheart?” he asks you.

“U-Um…” you can’t answer before he’s signalling the waitress to come over. “Thank you, sir.” you smile, hoping it doesn’t look too forced.

Sir, huh? Oh… he loves the sound of that.

“What are you doing out so late? Been partying… or fall out with your boyfriend?” he wonders, attempting to figure out your situation. He wants to know why you’re alone. If anyone will be asking where you went or if anyone will actually care if you don’t go home tonight.

“Y-Yeah… uh, my… boyfriend.” you stutter, flailing over your own words as you try and get them out as quickly as possible. Kisaki waits for the waitress to top up your coffee, tipping her and winking his thanks as he watches her walk away. He’d rather not have any prying ears, if possible.

“You’re not a very good liar.”

“What?”

“There’s no boyfriend, is there?” he tells you. He takes note of how uncomfortable you look and snickers, trusting it will be enough to lower your high guard. “Don’t worry, I know we look shady but I promise we aren’t.”

“I didn’t say that…” you object, feebly. It’s clear you’ve made a judgement about him before even speaking to him. And if he’s being honest, you’ve likely read him like a book.

But he’s not going to tell you that.

“We’re just off a late flight from a business trip. Trying to get some down time before we go home to our families.” he explains.

That should settle your nerves. Hearing that he’s a businessman with a family. Family will most likely translate to a wife and a few kids in your mind. And you’re not wrong about that. You can see the wedding ring on his finger. He’s even willing to show you his brood of brats if you feel the need to question him about it.

“Where was the trip?” you ask him, curiously. Travel is a weakness of yours. It’s something you’ve always planned to do and would still love to do, if circumstances were different.

“Germany.” he answers, plainly. “See how easy it is to answer questions? Don’t be shy… tell me why you’re here.” he insists. You look around, wondering if it’s the right thing to do. But, really, what’s the harm? It’s not like he can use it against you.

“I had a fight with my family… so… I just wanted some space.”

“Families are tough, babe, I understand.” he nods in agreement. He’s a master manipulator, unbeknownst to you. Offering faux sympathy and mimicking your body language to set your mind at ease. And, Christ, wouldn’t you know it? It’s working. “What was the fight about?”

“I— I’d rather not say…” you tell him. Ah. This should be good.

“C’mon.” he encourages you. He leans over the table, hoping you’ll do the same. “It can’t be that bad.” he whispers.

“W-Well…” you start, quietly, doing as he wished and leaning your face closer to his. “I like to party… but they don’t like the way I party.” you tell him in hushed tones.

“Ahhh, drugs, right?”

“Mhmmn, I like coke.” you smile, almost shyly. Would you look at that. A bona fide cokewhore. “S’not a big deal… y’know? They just don’t get it. They like to overreact, my parents are dumb strict.” you tell him.

“How old are you? You could get your own place.” he suggests, but you shake your head in response.”

“I’m twenty-five. And, yeah, I make a bunch of my own money so I should be able to move out, right? Nope… my psycho fucking parents have control of my bank account.” you explain. This is the most you’ve talked to anyone about this, and he’s a complete stranger. You have no idea why you’re telling him all of this. But it’s simple, really. You’re under his spell.

“I mean… c’mon, kiddo. Probably ‘cause of the coke habit.” he laughs. You sigh in response. “Don’t be like that, baby. I get it.”

“What do you know about it? You’re old enough to be my dad, your partying days are long over.” you respond, rudely.

“Ouch, princess has a bite, hah?” he laughs. He reaches into his coat pocket, his eyes fixated on yours. “I suppose you won’t be interested in this, then.” he grins, showing off a small bag of coke to you as discretely as he can.

“Hah, no way. What does your family think about that?”

“My family can have an opinion when they pay the bills.” he laughs, almost like he’s joking despite being deathly serious. “Interested?” he wonders. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to take his hand off at the generous honour.

“What’s the catch?” you query. With guys like this; offers like this, there’s always a catch.

“Come home with me.”

“Hah. That’s low. What about your wife?” you ask, genuinely curious how he plans to explain this away.

“Baby, I’ve got all the coke either of us could want and I’m taking business trips all over the world just for the fun of it. You think I don’t own more than one home?”

All the coke you could ever want.

It’s an enticing offer. And the more he dangles the bag in front of your face, you know you’re too weak willed to decline. It might be the worst decision you’ll ever make. But… you just can’t say no to the siren call of white powder.

And then, you’re nodding.

He smiles. An entirely evil toothy smile. But you’re already grabbing your jacket and your bag before standing up. He holds out his arm to you, offering you to link with him. He escorts you out. But not before winking at his friends with pride.

“Do you love me?”

It’s a question he’s asked every single day since you met so many months ago. He didn’t need a real answer.

Not at first.

You’d respond with a giggle. Or a boisterous laugh. Sometimes you’d answer his question with a kiss which always created a pathway into you fucking each other until the sun would rise.

Truthfully, you don’t think you’ve ever been so happy.

It’s unconventional, sure, but still you find yourself smiling every day without fail. It’s easy being with Kisaki. It’s easy being his little secret. No one knows where you are, except him. He doesn’t like it when you leave the house. He doesn’t like it when he doesn’t know where you are.

You can’t leave.

You can’t leave him.

He takes you out sometimes. He’ll blindfold you and make you lie down in the backseat of the car so no one can see you and you have no sense of direction. He always takes you to sweet yet secluded places.

The beach.

The mountains.

Eerily beautiful places that you know could be your last destination on earth. Places where he could push you to your demise or drown you so that your body gets lost at sea.

No one would know, just him.

But so far, it hasn’t come to that. He’s good to you, he is. Kisaki knows how much you love coke, so he gets it for you. He keeps you coked up to the eyeballs and sometimes you feel like a whore.

Maybe because that’s exactly what you are.

You fuck him as thanks for your coke.

You’re a coke whore.

“I love you.” you whisper, feebly, with an award winning smile after snorting a line. He grabs your face in one hand, puckering your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. Kisaki looks so serious, always. His eyebrows and constantly at a scowl and you think he has to force himself to rectify that about himself.

But he doesn’t while he looks at you.

At your lips.

He looks between your eyes and your plump, inviting lips until he can’t resist you anymore. He tilts his head and his lips meet with yours.

“I love you when you’re high.” he smiles, muttering words between kisses.

And you laugh, kissing him back so sweetly.

“I love you when I’m high.”

And just like that, you’re weightless. He picks you up by your thighs, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He drops you down roughly onto the dining table. His body weight on top of your is intoxicating. The way he kisses and alternates to nibbling your lower lip while he tries to undress all at once is dizzying.

You watch him as he throws his shirt across the room and he starts to work at his belt.

“Arms up.” he instructs, and you obey. You hold your arms above your head together, knowing full well what he’s about to do. “Such a good little whore, aren’t you? Do anything for me and your habit.” he laughs.

You giggle at him, he likes it when you entertain how mean he can be to you. You’ll accept anything he wants to do to you, because if you don’t you know he can cut you off.

So of course you don’t mind that he wants to bind you with his belt, your wrists restricted and trapped by the leg of the dining table.

You watch him carefully as he circles back around you, climbing on top of you and studying your body beneath him. He grabs two fistfuls of your little vest and rips it apart with ease. Your breasts exposed to the chill in the air and bouncing freely. He cups one, fondling the nipple and almost salivating at your bare flesh.

It seems he wants to suck them, but for whatever reason he’s holding himself back.

“Tell me how bad you want me.” he demands.

“Mmpf, Tetta I’m— ‘m so wet. Please, I need you. M-My panties are—”

“What?” he smirks, “Your panties are what?”

You look away, feeling shy. A rush of heat flocks to your face and you can’t help but squirm under his stare. He hooks his fingers into your shorts and yanks them down in one fell swoop. He can’t stop smiling at the way your legs are wriggling and writhing against the table.

It’s him.

What he does to you is unspeakable.

You can’t decide if you want your legs open or closed. So he just watches in fascination as you try to decide. Though eventually it grows tiresome for him. When your legs are open, he keeps them open. Slapping your inner thighs near your pussy and strictly instructing that you keep them open. He runs a line over the fabric between your pussy lips from your sopping hole up to your clit.

“Oh you little slut. You are fuckin’ soaked.” he speaks, his eyes filled with lustrous malice. He puts his head between your thighs after moving your panties into the crease of your thigh. He repeats what he had done with his finger but with his tongue, and you can’t help but shudder and moan, clamping your thighs around his head. “Oh, no, babe. Your treat was the coke. This pussy is for me. You’re gonna give me a treat now.” he reminds you.

He frees his thick cock and lines it up with your dripping slot. Fresh tears roll down your eyes as he slowly plunges inside of you. It’s good…

It’s good.

It’s so fucking good.

“Dirty coke whore aren’t ya?” he laughs, thrusting in and out of you at a hurried pace. “Say thank you, right fuckin’ now, say ‘thank you, daddy.’”

“Mmpf, thank you! T-Thank you, daddy!” you wail, biting your lip over and over between moans as he ploughs inside of you. Your head is moved quickly to the side. It takes you a moment to register what happened until you feel the familiar sting of his striking palm.

“Stupid cock drunk girl,” he grins, “What are you even thankin’ me for? Do you know, baby? Use that cute li’l head of yours to think about it.”

“I— I— f-for letting me stay here… w-with you!” you tell him. He smiles, raising his eyebrows as if he’s looking for more. “Thank you for the coke, daddy! I love you! I l-love you s’much!” you sob, almost screaming through how perfectly he’s ruining your precious cunt.

“What else? C’mon, gorgeous, you’re happy right now because of daddy, yeah? So say thank you.” he commands. His cock throbs aggressively and the sight of the little gulp you just took slithering down your tiny throat.

“Thank you for fucking me! I love your cock, daddy, I do! T-Thank you for giving it to me!” you explain.

He grunts at that, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he humps into you, moving you further and further up the dining table. You can see a prominent vein bulging in his forehead as he fucks you with a vengeance.

“So tight, so fuckin’ tight baby.” he tells you. “Cumming soon, yeah? Can feel how close you are.”

“Can I, daddy? Can I p-please cum f-for you?” you groan, desperately.

“Yes, baby,” he nods, “Cum on daddy’s cock.”

You only wish you could cling onto him while you unfurl around him. You wish that you could rake your fingers down his back and break the skin. It’s a desperate need as you keep cumming and cumming for him. There’s no way to steel yourself. You have nothing to grab onto to ground yourself and keep you on earth with him. You are in ecstasy, moaning and clamping around him as you get through your high.

And once you finally finish, he can’t help but watch you in awe. The way the aftershocks wrack through your body and you’re spasming on his cock. He pounds you with every single bit of body weight he has behind it, flooding your walls with his white and creamy cum.

He kisses between your breasts and sucks on your tits while he spurts load after load of himself into you, not wanting to waste a drop of his essence. It belongs inside of you.

He belongs inside of you.

When he eventually pulls out, his cum can’t help but throb out of you. With each pulse of your aching pussy, his sperm is forced out. He fingers it back inside, lovingly, rubbing his thumb over your clit at the same time.

“Mine.” he tells you, eyes focused on yours.

“Y-Yes, daddy.”

“I cum in this whenever I want, so it’s mine. And you are mine.”

“Yours, daddy, always.”

“Do you love me?” he queries.

“I love you.”

“Do you want to leave me?”

“No, daddy, I’ll never leave you.”

He smirks at that.

You say it like you have a choice.

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dizscreams · 1 year

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Anika Kayoko Headcanons!

bc my girl needs more love on this app 😔

When it comes to Anika I feel like she likes a partner who’s a little more confident and not afraid to express themself! But even if she has a more quiet and reserved partner she’ll love them regardless and help to get them out of their shell

She seems very observant so I feel like she could definitely tell you liked her and I think she’s a pretty bold person. So she spent a week just hanging out with you to see if she caught on to your signals right and after that week was over that’s when she confessed. Idk if that makes sense but yeah 😭

I see her with someone who’s more nerdy and smart kinda deal so definitely lots of study dates!!

She was really excited when you agreed to meet her friends! She likes dragging you to their hangouts and makes sure to tell you that you’re always welcome to hang out with them

Her love language is physical touch. argue with the wall idc idc she was always touching Mindy some way in that movie. I also see her as a words of affirmation person

She owns heart shaped sunglasses and even though she lives in nyc she wears them even when it’s slightly sunny outside. And I’m not just saying this because the lana del ray song inspired me to do so 😊 (lowkey feel like I could make a whole fic abt this 👀)

Speaking of Lana del ray she most definitely got Ethan into listening to her music and I say this because they’re both just so lana del ray coded

She takes pride in her style and her taste when it comes to fashion. I feel like she would inspire and help her partner when it comes to that kinda stuff too! I know she’d probably love giving anyone who agrees to one a little makeover

She loves giving compliments! She’s your personal hype woman 100% whenever you’re feeling down she’s with you with in a matter of seconds to help you feel better

A big skin care person. Her and her partner are doing face masks and watching movies almost every weekend

She likes going out but if her partner isn’t into it she’ll stay home for them ofc! She’d definitely like trying to push you to do things you normally wouldn’t do but she’s not overly bossy with it and she would never make you do something you’re uncomfortable with

LOVESS PLANNING DATES! She comes up with a new one everytime. Her favorite one she did was a picnic date in the park.

I feel like she’s the type of person who never learned to ride a bike. I’m not sure why I just think that and you def tease her for it 😭

these are all over the place but I hope you like them! :)

#scream 6 #anika kayoko #anika kayoko x reader #anika kayoko imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #mindy meeks #mindy meeks x reader #chad meeks #chad meeks x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #dizzy thoughts!! <3

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couldawouldashoulda50 · 4 months

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A heart full of regret - William Nylander

A/N - This fic still falls under William Nylander and the fem reader who is a global super-star.

Just a side note (for anyone that might be wondering), I have been honestly struggling to find my way back to The Distance and the Time between Us . Between my work and personal commitments, it’s been super challenging to get back in that headspace. Admittedly, my perception changed a little of William since the Sweden trip so I have been reworking a few things in my head about him too.

I tried to tie this side piece into the main Distance and Time series as well so hopefully I can get back to outlining some of the earlier years between William and the reader and have it all flow together. I tried to make sure I’m well on my way with getting Part 2 completed of this piece before I posted Part One. I apologize if I seem all over the place sometimes.

Thank you to everyone for giving this a shot 🙂

Word count 8k+

Warnings: 18+ content, general smut (p in v, oral m receiving, c*ck massage), swearing, angst, reflections of the end of a relationship, casual sex

Late November, 2023

A familiar chime echoes once again through the condo, signalling a step closer to yet another tryst for William Nylander. This time, it’s Trina; a lively and pretty young woman in her early twenties whom he crossed paths with recently while out for his daily walk with Pablo and Banksy.

Prior to the trip to Sweden for the NHL Global Series, William wouldn’t go too many days without a casual encounter with an attractive female, which would lead to introductions and further chats, and often enough, to the bedroom of whomever's place was closest. Ever since Williiam moved to this upscale part of the city, he noticed there was no shortage of beautiful and stylish women that lived within a short distance of his doorstep. Now having returned from his beloved Stockholm, where he shone even brighter than the spotlights themselves, there had been a further surge of interested parties coming out of the woodwork.

William had been in committed relationships for long periods of time prior to this season, but throughout the other periods of time when he was single, he felt there was no harm in having small feasts of women here and there to satisfy his sexual appetite.

William had consistently been very low-key about divulging (m)any details about his personal life, whether it be in interviews or across all the social media apps. He was no stranger to his name being thrown around in the news by reporters hungry to spawn a certain narrative about his game performance or even his personality; many times, he was not cast in a favorable light but somehow his laid back personality carried him through. Regardless of what kind of attention he received, William never came across like any of it went to his head, to any great degree anyway.

However, after his well-documented week in Sweden, and the internet exploding after his appearance on the “Bianca” show where he provided some very personal details of his own sex life, William was reaping the benefits of his re-energized superstardom. As a result, he was getting more notoriety with being a handsome, talented, virile, and notably single, professional hockey player.

All of the resurgence of popularity does not come without a flipside - a downside to which the descent is much longer lasting that the ascent to stardom. William knew this and he was fortunate that he had people in his life that would remind him to be careful of the traps and pitfalls tied to such celebrity. The trouble is there was no one quite like that here in Toronto that he could just call and hang out with, that he could just “be” with; the people that cared for him most, and that he cared for, were all dispersed between the US and Sweden. And as much as he loved his two beloved dogs, they weren’t great for a two-way conversation.

William’s phone chimes again.

Be there in 5 😘

William acknowledges the text and heads into the washroom to do his traditional freshening up routine.

“She's nice, boys - you met her on our walk”, William said to Pablo and Banksy as he returned to the living room; the dogs cock their heads to the side in response. William gives them both a hearty and affectionate scratch behind their ears, and chuckles as their rumps move in unison showing their adoration for their dog dad.

William flopped down on the couch and continued to absent-mindedly scratch the dog's backs and scrolled through some more messages on his phone.

After glancing at numerous DM's received as of late, something shifted in William’s mind; an empty feeling that he only just recognized at that moment. He realized, rather suddenly, that he really wasn’t into Trina at all and the dread of her impending arrival started to build within him. William had only invited her over for one purpose. She was merely coming to scratch an itch, an itch that would still linger long after she’s long gone from his bed. He didn’t have the heart to cancel on her with her just being literal seconds from his door, but he made up his mind right there that this would not be a long visit.

Say you’ve got a migraine he thought to himself.

William’s phone rang, a picture of his mom appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Mom…how’s it going?” William smiled.

They exchange some light-hearted small talk for a few moments when William hears a soft knock at the door. He takes his mom off speaker-phone and starts walking toward the door. He thinks he should probably just tell his Mom he has company and end the call but he’s come to realize that he would much rather talk to her than the girl on the other side of the door. Trina will just have to come in and wait.

“Mom, two seconds - just letting someone in”.

“I can let you go - there’s just something I need to discuss with you about Christmas so we’ll need some more time to talk. I’ll talk to you later William, ok?”

“No - Mom, please…if it’s about you guys coming for Christmas, I’d like to get that sorted out, ok? Just gimme a sec.”

He opens the door for Trina and mustering a smile, he invites her in. She glides past him and gives him her best “come fuck me” eyes, ghosting her fingers along his covered abdomen. William catches the scent of her perfume; between that and the deep blue bodycon dress she’s wearing under a sleek, belted wool coat (the dress he feels is a little over the top given he didn’t plan to leave the apartment), he momentarily forgets his migraine plan as he stares at the contour of her cleavage and her ass as she enters the living room.

She approaches the couch where the two dogs are waiting anxiously, but politely, for some affection. Trina looks at the dogs and tries to give a command for them to get down off of the furniture; looking back at William she said “sorry, I just don’t want the dogs slobbering all over me”.

There’s a sinking feeling in William’s stomach; he really wants to get out of this now.

Migraine plan is back on. Say you’ve got a migraine right after a few sips of wine correcting his first thought to himself.

“Boys….off,” William commands. He feels like shit watching his cherished companions skulk off the couch.

He motions to the phone, “It’s my Mom, she’s just got a quick question but I won’t be long, just going to take in here” nodding toward his bedroom. “There’s a bottle of white wine in the fridge; help yourself. I'll be right out”.

William enters his room, closes the door and lets out a long sigh.

Switching to his native tongue, he resumes the call.

“Ok, Mom…what’s up?”

“You sure I’m not interrupting? You have a guest, William”.

“It’s ok, she’s good…it’s fine, Mom”.

“So Dad and I have been figuring out what might make sense for all of us to get together for Christmas. We’ve had an interesting offer if we come to Toronto, but we wanted to talk with you about it first.”

William senses that his mom seems tentative; her tone just seems off.

“...oh - okaaay?...”

Camilla hesitates and then begins. “Well, we recently received a phone call from Y/N”.

William’s stomach is no longer sinking. It’s plummeting. His heart begins to race hearing your name.

“She reached out to ask if she could borrow back that guitar she gave your sister a few years ago. There’s an exhibit that was running in London but has now moved on to Toronto showing the different guitars she’s collected over the years and the stories behind each one”.

William remains silent at the other end. His face is drained; any colour he had initially has been swapped out with a dull, achy feeling.

“She was very apologetic for calling but she explained that although it wasn’t part of the London exhibit, she would really love to have it included at the Toronto exhibit, given it’s in her hometown and she has a strong sentimental attachment to it”.

Camilla was only met with further silence from William. She knew this would be difficult for him, given the history you and he shared.

“She ended up coming to Stockholm to pick it up herself. We invited her to stay for a meal so we had a long visit, which was nice.”

William could barely think to form a sentence; a million thoughts ricocheted off of one another in his brain.

“So, anyway, she asked if we were coming to visit you in Toronto this year for Christmas. I said we weren’t sure. I told her that when we were there last year, it soaked up a lot of our time trying to get anywhere since we were split up between your place and the hotel.”

Although William didn’t speak, he agreed silently in his head that it was chaotic from time to time last year to line up the logistics with the various designated meeting places and transporting his family in the heavy downtown traffic.

“Are you still there darling?” Camilla asked.

“I’m here, Mom.” William quietly responded.

“Getting to the point, she said that if we wanted, and if you were comfortable with it, that we could use her house while she’s away visiting her family. She said she would be happy to arrange anything we needed so we can just relax and spend time together. Your Dad was impressed that she came up with the idea at all…then she just offered it up straight away.”

Turns out, when he tells Trina that he has a migraine, it may not be far from the truth.

“Sounds like her - always going above and beyond for everyone”, William said. His tone was indiscernible; it was hard for Camilla to tell whether her son was just emotionless or if he was really hurting.

“You don’t need to answer right away, but it really would be such a great option for us. She told us a bit about the layout; it would almost be like being back at one of those villas in Saint Tropez….only in winter. I suppose you already know that.”

William knew what his Mom was saying was true. He knew and loved your house, and not just for all the grandeur of the amenities; the indoor/outdoor pool, the games room and the theatre room to name a few. He loved how it felt whenever he was there with you. It didn’t matter if it was just the two of you, or if it was a get together with friends, you always made it so warm, comfortable and inviting for anyone that came to visit.

“Yeah, ok Mom, I’ll think about it and will call you back”. William ends the call and remains in his room, trying to regroup.

Ugh. Trina’s out there waiting

He walks out and sees Pablo and Banksy lying on the floor by the entrance door. He had forgotten he had banished them from the couch so apologetically, he told them to hop up on his bed. If they’re sad, they can at least be comfortable.

“Hey you,” Trina smiles warmly.

“Sorry about that - with the time difference and all, it’s hard to sometimes get a chance for my Mom and I to talk”, William fibbed.

William sits beside Trina on his couch and sees she has poured a glass of wine for her and him.

Take a drink, say you have a headache, get her out of here.

“Was it not a good call? You don’t look well…” Trina said, her perfectly shaped brows furrow.

“Nah, it was fine - I just feel a headache coming on I think”.

“I’m sorry…can I do something? I know this thing - like a massage for your neck that helps reduce pressure from your head.” Trina’s hopeful tone was apparent.

William thought for a moment and then reluctantly agreed. She positions him in the exact spot she needs and readjusts herself sitting on her knees behind him. She instructs William to lower his chin to his chest and he obliges.

William closed his eyes and let Trina’s hands try and work out the pressure that has built in his head since the phone call. You used to do the same; the strength and dexterity in your hands from years of masterfully playing guitar, piano and drums always succeeded in releasing pressure from one area or another. It usually led to a thoroughly enjoyable activity after the fact as well.

His memory calls William back to a night, many years ago, with you in his bed and you sheepishly asked if you could give him a cock massage, while he is blindfolded. You said you had seen a video (he got you to admit you were actually watching porn while travelling back to Toronto after a performance) of a woman giving the most insane massage to her boyfriend’s member and you desperately wanted to try it with William upon your return.

[December, 2016]

“Isn’t it just like a hand-job?” William chuckled, lying on his back, his muscular everything fully exposed.

“Maybe a little - but it was more sensual than her just pumping away on it until…” you made an exploding hand gesture with one of your hands.

William watched you, grinning ear to ear. He felt his cock twitch, not just at the thought of your hands working his member but from the purely awesome sight of your beauty. You were standing lighting candles by the bed in a short, black silk negligee that you had bought in Florence that summer. You had bought it for yourself - you loved how you felt in it and oftentimes when you were alone at home, you would pad around the house on a lazy day wearing only that…and it felt wonderful. Your long curls laid loose down your back; your sandy blonde mane layered with dark brown lowlights was tousled at the crown of your head from the passionate make-out session that had just occurred. This was one of those nights where every open mouthed kiss was more delicious than the last and neither you could bring yourselves to stop.

You grab your black sleeping mask and with a coy smile, you put the flexible band of the mask between your teeth so it’s dangling from your mouth, and you crawl slowly from the foot of the bed toward William. Your eyes are fixed on his stunning blues that appear to be darkening with pure hunger for you.

You straddle his midriff - fucking god, his hard abdominal muscles against your entrance has you clenching your walls, wishing he was inside you. Your pussy is primed and wet already for his cock but you’re able to push those urges aside. You carefully place the mask over his eyes and gently expand the band, fitting it around his head. Now fully blindfolded, you lace your fingers through his and bring his hands up to your tits as you rock back and forth.

Fuck, he feels good. You fight with that ongoing urge for his cock to drive into you fast and hard; first, you want to make him writhe and squirm with ecstasy with just your touch. With this, you push the thoughts of him fucking you into oblivion to the side and stay with what you planned initially.

Willing yourself to NOT put his cock in your mouth as you descend down his body, was a chore unto itself. ‘It's right there, Y/N - just a little taste…’, your thoughts taunt you as you shake your head, trying to stay focused.

Finally, you seat yourself in a comfortable position and you help Willam shift his bum down towards you a little further.

You generously apply some warming oil around his (shaved) pubic area and begin the process of smoothing the oil around, somewhat teasingly avoiding his growing erection.

Applying a little more, you strategically drip the oil around just above his balls. The liquid slowly trickles down from the base of his member and across the sensitive skin of his sac, his cock continuing to twitch from the sensation; you smile as you hear a small moan from William as he bites his bottom lip.

You begin smoothing your hands up the length of his dick and down the shaft towards his balls. You repeat various motions, concentrating on his body reactions to the touches and stroking that your hands are providing. You're pleased to hear William start to moan; his hips begin to move to the rhythm of your strokes. When a large, translucent bead of fluid appears from the tip of his penis, you let out a soft moan. It takes everything in you to not lean over and run your tongue through his arousal. Although you love sucking his cock, you abstain as it's not on the menu tonight, not just yet. Instead, you smear the precum around the tip using your thumb and forefinger, over and over again.

William’s head falls to the side as a long moan leaves his mouth, followed by a curse word or two. You experiment a little by grabbing the thick base of his cock, balls included, firmly in one hand, and with the other, you stroke his shaft of his member and his balls masterfully with your hands, using his seeping fluid for extra slickness.

As his breath quickens, William’s muscles in his abdomen flex and contract as you continue to alternate stroking the head of his cock and using his arousal to glide your hand up and down his shaft and over his balls. Soon, his hips instinctively rise and fall with every stroke, while louder grunts echo when you smooth your hands over the now purple head of his throbbing dick at a faster pace. Veins are protruding from his pelvis all the way to his shaft and you sense William is getting close, as he grits his teeth and grasps at the large towel that covers the comforter on his bed.

As breathy gasps escape from his mouth, you can see and feel the eruption bubbling up through his shaft as his balls flex and constrict. You hold his impressive cock firmly in place and continue to work the head of his cock with your fingers and hand until finally thick streams of cum shoot out of his tip. Instead of just finishing him off with a few more pumps of his cock, you follow your recollection of the video and keep using his seed to lubricate his shaft and tip to keep stroking his cock, looking to draw out a longer and more intense pleasure.

As you stroke and manipulate his member after his first orgasm, William becomes even more vocal…only managing short sentences through his strained voice, blurting out his gratification which was mixed with a whole lot of profanity. More and more, his thigh muscles are flexed leading to more contouring of his hips and accentuating that god damned “V” that literally makes you throb at the sight of it.

A long, strained growl marks the next explosion followed by a forceful “Fuuuuuuck mee” from William, almost chuckling as the cum spills out in thick ribbons. You smile at the sight of him panting through his naturally pouting lips; this experience with William was even better than what you had hoped for and as it turns out, it was just as fulfilling for you too.

As William laid there, sprawled out and spent, he slid the blindfold off his eyes, leaving it resting on his forehead. He gazes at you sitting in front of him not understanding how he could have ever gotten so lucky to even be able to kiss you, let alone have you give him two of the most earth shattering orgasms, within minutes of each other, with just your hands.

He was certain that he would lose his mind as he watched you slowly lean over his cock and lick the last remnants of cum from around the head.

William inhales sharply as you flatten your tongue against the rounded tip for a more substantial taste. And just because you could not control the urge anymore (he tasted and felt that good in your mouth), you slid the length of his softening cock all the way in your mouth until it touched the back of your throat. You withdraw him from your mouth and gently lay his cock in back on his midriff. Yep, he's definitely done for now.

“C’mere…that was just fucking amazing. Seriously….fucking amazing, Y/N” William said with a low, gravelly tone as gently pulled you on top of him.

You’re not sure where it came from but a brand new need for William washed over you. It was something beyond sex; you yearned for him to just bring you into his sculpted arms and have them fully envelop you. Gently, you slide your one hand under William’s head and you nestle your face into the crook of his neck, pressing your lips against his skin. Your legs flank William’s torso and your other arm has looped under his other underarm. In turn, William slid his one hand up all the way up from your thigh, along your spine up to the nape of your neck, gently grasping a small handful of your gorgeous locks. His other arm slid around your waist, the silk fabric of your neglige gathered in his hand. Although your core had pressure building from being in the position you were in, the overwhelming sense of calm and safety had momentarily usurped the need for his cock to be buried deep inside you.

After a few moments, William gently rolled you both on your sides, never releasing you from his hold. You remained intertwined as William kissed your forehead, temple…wherever he could rest his lips against.

“Kap’s going to be here tomorrow night with his new girl - think you could make it to the game and we can sneak back to your place after? I might have some ideas to try out on you now…”

“Mmm-hmm - would love that” you said drowsily, nuzzling into William even further.

William kisses your head again and breaks from the embrace for a moment; leaning over top of you, he proceeds to blow out all the candles. As his body pressed against yours, you take the opportunity to run your hands over his muscular flank, marvelling at the look and feel of such a beautiful physique.

As sleep found you both, you each drifted off with the quiet thoughts in your heads, that there was something very unique and special developing between you.

William snapped back to reality. He had to admit; Trina’s hands felt pretty good and with that, William let out a groan. With the memories of you consuming his mind, William began to get hard as Trina continued to work on loosening his tense muscles. William’s burgeoning erection caught Trina’s attention, and she wasted no time in moving her hands from his neck to his shoulders, down along his broad back muscles to his hips.

“You like that, Willy?” Trina said, her tone low and sultry.

“Mmm-hmph”

“What about this?” Trina’s hands brazenly reach around to cup his balls while sucking on his earlobe, slightly north of his diamond earring. She palms his still-clothed dick and rubs his erection in slight circular motion.

“Mmmm….good….” William responds, his voice slightly strained.

William’s mind slides back and forth with conflicting thoughts, like a car fish-tailing on ice. Images of you, your face, your body, your mouth, your taste, your touch - his desire for you - had penetrated his brain. But the voice. It’s not your voice. It’s some random girl’s voice in his ear and William’s gut twists at the thought.

Meanwhile, Trina was determined to seize her moment with the hockey star. She stands up from her position on the couch and gently nudges William to turn so he’s facing her as she stands in front of him.

William's eyes are fixed on the hem of her dress which has ridden up to the top of her thighs. Trina follows William’s gaze and looking down at William, she smiles sweetly and begins to pull her hem up even further.

“You make me so hot, Willy” Trina said, the ‘v’ of her scarcely covered cunt now on display.

She brings one of William’s hands up towards her need, opens her thighs slightly and positions the palm of his hand right against her drenched entrance.

“Shit” William said gruffly; his sweatpants have done little to mask his rigid dick. Figuring he might as well have some fun, William’s mind all but dismisses his previous thoughts concerning you and concentrates on the girl in front of him.

William runs his middle finger from the top of Trina’s folds and firmly inserts the same finger deep inside of her. Trina gasps with pleasure and both of her hands encircle William’s wrist holding his hand in place, she begins to rotate her hips over his digit, encouraging his finger to move deeper and curl inside of her.

William obliges by inserting his ring finger alongside his middle. As William gyrates his hand, Trina’s head snaps back when he connects with her sweet spot. William continues to finger fuck Trina; she releases her grip around William’s wrist and begins to knead her breasts.

“Oooooh - Willy….your thick fingers feel so fucking good inside of me” Trina whines as William continues move his fingers into her wet core.

“Let me suck your cock…I want your dick in my mouth”.

William again obliges, removing his fingers from her centre. Trina steps closer to William and lowers herself between his legs. She closes the distance between them, leaning in for their first kiss. Trina places a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on William’s mouth. Immediately he tastes a faint mint flavour mixed with something else, something stronger.

Weed maybe, he thinks to himself.

Whatever it is, it's not doing much to improve his mood.

If there's anything William’s past sexual encounters have taught him, it was better in the long run to feign enjoyment than to show ambivalence or dissatisfaction toward the girl of the moment. William is hopeful he won't have to fake anything at this point - fuck - he needs a distraction and goddammit, Trina’s just gonna have to be it.

Thankfully, Trina moves on from William’s mouth and starts pulling his sweatpants and shorts off.

Moving right along…., William thinks to himself.

Trina licks a long strip up William’s shaft; she spits on the tip and begins to stroke his cock, trying to make him a little harder.

The spit dries out without Trina even realizing it as she continues to pump his cock. William flinches at the rough and dry sensation that her too firm of a grip left on his member.

She lowers herself down to lap at his balls, enveloping one in her mouth at a time, and withdrawing it with an audible ‘pop’.

She’s trying too hard, William pondered.

He watches her alternate from ball to ball, with a ‘pop’ each time she withdraws her mouth. Trina licks another stripe up his shaft. “You like that, right Willy? You like it when I lick your balls?”

William gives a faint smile and leans his head back on the couch; not because he was enjoying Trina’s attempts at pleasuring him but to try and think of his personal turn-ons so he can get through this.

William thought of you. He thought of the way you always made his toes fucking curl whenever you took him in your mouth. Deep in your mouth as you’d innocently, almost bashfully, make eye contact with him for just a few seconds here and there. He loved watching you working your magic with your tongue, mouth and your hands, smoothing back your curls to view the best angles of your face. You never just sucked his cock. You took your time. You savoured him. You made love to his cock and balls with your mouth and God, the moans you made while you tasted him always left him reeling.

As it turns out, William’s images of you in his head had the desired effect. Now with his diminishing erection reversed, William made some small adjustments to Trina’s methods in order to keep the momentum going in the right direction.

After a few more moments, Trina stood up and she fully disrobed in front of William.“Do you want to move to the bedroom?”

If she’s anything, she’s confident, William muses.

His dogs had already been displaced once and he’s not about to do it again.

“Let’s stay out here - on the couch…just gotta go grab something”.

William stands up, naked from the waist down, and saunters into the bathroom.

Trina eyes his chiselled body walk away, almost as though she’s stalking her prey. She had been hoping to meet William ever since she spotted him one morning leaving his building to go for a walk with his dogs. Though he was dressed down in baggy sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and a backwards baseball cap, William screamed affluence with the luxury designer labels scrawled across the articles of clothing. He was wealthy, gorgeous, and seemingly single…three of Trina’s favourite qualities. William being a popular professional athlete only further tempted Trina.

Trina’s father, a wealthy executive of a real estate development firm headquartered in Toronto, had essentially gifted her a luxury condo unit in the same neighbourhood as William, once she had graduated from university (only graduating by the skin of her teeth [doing everything at university but apply herself to her studies]; regardless, it mattered not - she still had her degree).

Both Trina’s parents had long realized, after the fact, the detrimental effects of doting on their only child’s every whim for so many years. Privileged and spoiled were the two prevalent adjectives that described their daughter. Therefore after graduation, as an ultimatum, Trina got a luxury condo (and all living expenses paid) as long as she came to work for her father as a junior executive in his firm. Trina agreed, under the condition that her closest friend, Lara (really her only friend amongst a sea of party-goers and acquaintances), could come live and work with her too.

It worked well, or at least Trina’s father thought so. If not for any other reason, Trina’s father could, at the very least, keep a watchful eye on his daughter and at the very most, attempt to infect her with a better work ethic.

While her friend Lara seemed to fit right in at the firm, Trina longed for an even easier life. She wanted to be pampered, to be looked after - she did not want to get up every morning and head to an office just to do the bare minimum while she spent the majority of time shopping online.

The one skill Trina had become quite adept at was pretending to be what she needed to be in order to get what she wants, in any given circumstance.

She had her sights on William now. She could pretend to be a dog lover - that’s how she caught his eye to begin with. She could pretend to be interested in his beloved Sweden, his family, his friends - hell, even the team…there was more than enough eye-candy to snack on with the Leafs. She fit the bill of a trophy wife perfectly and whether she became one with William, or someone else, that was her ultimate goal.

Presently, Trina was pretending to be William’s personal pornstar.

Trina leaned back on the couch with her legs splayed, stroking her sensitive clit, awaiting William’s return. When he finally emerged, his cock semi-erect already covered by a condom, he laid a towel on the couch and then sat down on the middle cushion. He smiled at Trina who was now sitting in an upright position and motions for her to climb aboard.

Trina straddles William; her mouth devours him with more open-mouthed kisses. At this stage, William knew he was just going through the motions; there was zero chemistry, sexual or otherwise, between them.

Struggling to keep his erection, he breaks from her kiss and rubs the tip of his cock back and forth through the slickness of her folds. He positions the tip at Trina’s entrance. Eventually (and gratefully), his cock is rigid enough to slide into her.

Trina adjusted herself to William’s girth and began to slowly rock back and forth. William was cautiously optimistic about how good this is actually starting to feel. Trina had only succeeded in killing his hard-ons so far so he was hoping for a quick release; after she leaves he can just go to bed with his dogs and put this whole experience behind him.

William grabbed onto Trina’s hips and drove his frustration into her. She screamed in pleasure, calling his name as she bounced on top of him.

Fuck - my neighbours are going to hate me.

Trina continued grinding, bouncing and rotating on Wiliiam’s cock at a furious pace; her chest flushed with pink as she worked his cock and her tits bounced in William’s line of sight.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, yes, Willy…like that” Trina whined emphatically.

It was clear to William at that moment she was exaggerating most of the sounds she was making. Hell, he had made you wail and scream with the most mind bending orgasms that you never thought were possible. William knew that with you, your cries and grasps were genuine and that he was witnessing the real thing, several times over.

William had been around the block with his cock enough to know Trina was overacting and it was getting on William’s last nerve.

Moan after moan, hitting a higher decibel each time, William had reached his limit. His hands circle Trina’s waist lifting her off his cock. With no verbal cues, he positioned Trina back on the couch so he could enter her from behind. He’s frustrated and annoyed at himself more than anything, so he’s just going to fuck her and hopefully the pillow she’s holding onto will muffle her noise.

William closes his eyes and enters Trina. It’s not long before she’s grasping the arm of the couch with the force of William’s dick buried deep inside of her. William grips her hips holding them steady as he continuously bottoms out, his encased shaft is slick and shiny with Trina’s wetness from her core.

“Faster, Willy! Faster….oh god, harder, Willy!” Trina pleads.

Jesus - she’s trying to kill me.

Miraculously, William’s close to release. His hips ram against Trina’s ass as hard and as fast as he could manage while Trina feverishly rubs her clit. A loud shriek signals Trina’s orgasm. Her pussy walls clenching helped William reach his own climax and a few thick streams of cum collect in the reservoir tip of the condom.

Thank Christ this is over.

Trina half collapses on the couch and rolls onto her back. Her sleek figure shines from the thin layer of sweat from their late afternoon’s strenuous activities.

“Oh my God Willy…that was so good, so fucking good…” Trina chuckles, still out of breath. A lazy grin adorns her pretty face. William, having already gotten up to dispose of the condom, returns to the living room, still naked from the waist down.

“Ha, yeah…well, I try” William smiles, grabbing a pillow to place on his lap .

William paused for a moment as he surveyed the situation and whether Trina planned on staying longer.

“I’m sorry to say this but I feel a migraine coming on - could we call it a night?”

Trina sat up and moved closer to William on the couch.

“Oh..I’m sorry, I was hoping that massage, and well, everything else I did would have helped”.

“No, no, the massage was great but I think the headache was already too far gone to really stop it. I just need to crawl into bed, not move and have no sounds around me, and hopefully I’ll sleep until tomorrow.

Trina offers to stay multiple times and William declines each offer. Although William was ready to snap, he kept his composure, pulled his pants back on, helped gather her things and politely escorted her to the door.

Trina leans in and plants another open-mouthed kiss on William’s mouth.

William’s lack of reciprocation went unnoticed by Trina.

“Feel better, Willy - maybe call me later…if you can,” Trina smiles and leans in, giving him a hug.

“Yeah, thanks - have a good night”. William waves as she enters the elevator and he then gently closes the door.

William hangs his head and exhales; there’s so much going on in his mind. He goes into the bedroom, kneels on the floor and brings his face close to each of the dogs.

“Sorry boys….fuck. Never again with that one”.

The dogs are quick to smother William with kisses.

“I’ll take you guys out in a few minutes, ok?”

William climbs onto his bed and grabs his phone. He pulls up his Mom's number and types a quick note:

Hey Mom… if you’re sure, let’s do the Xmas thing at Y/N’s. I’ll reach out to her myself

William’s stomach flips at the thought of contacting you. Despite the time that had long passed since William effectively removed you from his life, his mind would still betray him time after time with the many memories of you in his mind's eye. William often longed to reach out to you and in his quietest moments, William always held a very private and guarded hope that one day, you would wind up together.

These thoughts only intensified for William when, in late July this past summer, William spotted you at Mitch and Stephanie’s wedding. You had third-wheeled it with Tessa and Morgan, who had also tied the knot that summer in a much more secretive manner. With Tessa being one of your closest friends of the last 10 plus years, she knew you might need a crash helmet when you initially laid your eyes on him for the first time in forever, so she and Morgan invited you to come along with them.

When the moment came that you and William first glanced at each other, no air bag or crash helmet was needed. You and William shared a long and lingering look at each other amongst the guests that meandered around the dancefloor. Neither of you could control the wide smiles that spanned your faces. For not only did everything seem right in the world for a mere moment, your dress and William’s pants were the exact same shade of lilac. Your chosen outfits looked obnoxiously pre-planned and the comedy of your attire wasn’t lost on those in attendance that knew of your shared history. They laughed and gestured at you both, all of them getting a kick out of the sight of the two of you being all matchy-matchy.

It served as an icebreaker for you and William; you simply looked him up and down and commented, rather dryly, saying “well, I ain’t changing…I was here first” followed by a cheeky grin. William approached you and extended his arms for a hug. All the hurt from the past temporarily washed away in that moment, and you both felt genuinely happy to see each other.

The small talk flowed easily and you both quickly fell back into light and vivacious exchanges. William began to wonder if he might be able to steal you away before the end of the night. After all, being among the very few bachelors in attendance, it would be a fantasy-come-to-reality scenario to spend the night with you. When William finally managed to ask what your plans after the reception were, he was crushed to find out you would be leaving early, right after your last performance at the reception (oftentimes at weddings, you were not only a guest but were part of the entertainment as well).

Things never change, William thought. It was this main reason why he ended your affair so many years ago.

William couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Still not in one place for very long, eh?”

You were quick to react to his comment inside your head; a feeling somewhere between annoyance and hurt. You felt the sting of one of his last spoken sentiments to you all those years ago about always needing to leave where he was, yet again, for something else.

Quietly you respond. “Well…unfortunately it’s a rehearsal for a musical tribute in Ireland for a dear friend and a mentor of mine who recently passed, rather unexpectedly.” An intense urge to cry hit you without warning, and it took all your might, along with a hard swallow, to keep the tears from appearing.

What you really wanted, and you were thoroughly ashamed to admit this to yourself, was to go to William and lose yourself completely in his arms. After all these years, he still had an effect on you like no one you had ever known.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole”, William said quietly after seeing you struggle to hide the sorrow on your face.

“William, no, I get it - it’s ok. Honestly though, if I had it my way, she’d still be alive and I’d be having more fun tonight as opposed to belting out a few songs, nursing my Pink Whitney, and then having to catch a flight.”

William pulled you in for a side hug and kept his arm draped around your shoulder as you walked together to rejoin Rasmus Sandin and his girlfriend Lisa.

As you enjoyed the lively banter between the Swedes in attendance, mixed with Jumbo Joe Thornton’s boisterous brand of humour, you were summoned away from William’s side. You excused yourself from the group and as you walked away, you glanced at William’s face and smiled warmly. He leaned in towards you and gently placed his hand on the exposed skin on your lower back. With his voice lowered, just above a whisper, he said “Good luck up there. Come find me after.”

But as fate, or rather too many prolonged drunken speeches and several other delays, once you had finished performing (at Stephanie’s request) Taylor Swift’s “22”, you were whisked away, with no opportunity for goodbyes, into the awaiting car in order to catch your flight to Dublin.

As the car speeds along the Queen Elizabeth Way towards Pearson Airport, you busy yourself with sending a series of texts, starting with Mitch and Stephanie, thanking them and wishing them well for their honeymoon. A flurry of messages are exchanged between you and the other wedding go-ers until finally, you reach William’s contact information.

Feelings had rapidly thawed between you and William but there still was a palpable distance, a recognizable gap in which that great span of time apart, with no communication, had created. You wistfully type:

it was really great to see you…hope you’re having a blast.

Not long after you pressed send, your phone shows an image being received. After a few more seconds, a selfie appeared of Rasmus and William in sleeveless t-shirts with Zeus portrayed on the front.

You can’t help but laugh out loud.

You two…fucking adorable 😄

A lone heart acknowledges your message.

Back at the wedding, William stares at the screen of his phone.

Rasmus can clearly see his friend’s disappointment; he knew William well, and he was aware of the torch he had always carried for you. Rasmus could also see the sadness in your eyes whenever you looked at William. Rasmus knew how fortunate he was to have found his love in Lisa, and he felt strongly it truly existed between you and William as well. If only you could get on the same fucking page at the same time.

Rasmus puts his arm around William’s shoulders. “Sorry she left, bro. But at least you got a chance to talk to her again”. Rasmus paused before ending with “You never know.”

Rasmus, one of William’s closest friends and forever the optimist, smiles and motions for him to put his phone away. “Let’s just fucking enjoy the rest of the night”.

William stuffs his phone in his pocket and the two friends venture off toward the dancefloor where the sound of whoops and hollers co-mingle with the guests screaming out the lyrics to Rasputin by Boney M.

William quickly distracted himself enough to diminish the thoughts that had been circling his mind about you, and concentrated on having a night with his many friends and former teammates.

By the next day, with William’s eventual departure back to Stockholm and you deep in the throes of rehearsals in Dublin, any feeling that may have arisen during the brief encounter between you and William seemed to dissipate. It seemed apparent, at that moment at least, too much time had passed for either of you to feel secure in contacting the other.

William resumed his off-season activities and on the surface, his brush with you had no real impact on his current life. He saw whomever he wanted to, slept with whomever he wanted to and detached from whomever he wanted to. Even after your name made it into the headlines across Europe and North America regaling your poignant and stunning tribute to the late, great Sinead O’Connor, William simply scrolled past the article on his phone. It was better for him to have you remain out of sight and therefore out of mind.

You had mixed feelings, however. You couldn’t never quite grasp, never quite understand why William’s mere presence affected you so profoundly. You surmised that’s what made you you, and what made your musical career so successful was the depths in which your feelings ran, and how it was converted to song. On the other side of the coin was, once again, the realization - that slap across the face, that William did not feel the same about you. You had allowed what transpired between you and William to completely derail you for years. You simply hadn’t been interested in meeting anyone. Love had shown it’s occasional cruelty in the past but unrequited love was pure unmitigated torture and you enabled it enough to shut down the myriad of advances from men. But It was enough now; you just needed to let go.

And the fog you had been in did eventually lift. You had come to terms that you were ready to find that person; a partner to build a life and a family with. You were approaching 31 years of age and you had deep desires for an exciting future with someone by your side. William’s life seemed to be on a completely different trajectory than yours; his recent admissions during his stint in Stockholm during the Leafs visit had people buzzing that William might be more of a fuck-boy than they had originally thought. And all judgements aside - he’s allowed to blow off steam and decompress however he wants - that version of William that the media was salivating over now was of little interest to you.

[back to the present moment]

William remains on his bed, continuously starting and deleting a text addressed to you. He repeats this 5, 6, 8 times before his frustration with himself boils over. He tosses his phone away from him as if it suddenly had turned into a hot potato.

William rubs his eyes with a bit too much force, almost in an attempt to diminish the gnawing feeling he has in his stomach.

Fuck.

Letting out a long sigh, William turns to Pablo and Banksy who had started to play fight on the bed. “Alright boys, let’s make this quick - it’d be my luck that girl is still hanging out somewhere around the building” William said as he picked up each dog for a quick nuzzle and then set them down on the floor to get ready.

#william nylander #willy styles #nhl imagine #hockey fic #smut #hockey smut #nylander x reader

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