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#kinda?? its implied ig
mushtoons · 7 months
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Can we please please please see Simon get a big hug from IK. I think he needs it. I think they both do
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we kinda made it cringe and turned it into angst dhdjdjdj
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squuote · 1 year
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dumps these all over your lawn
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fiendishartist2 · 11 months
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bffs forever !!!!
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skitskatdacat63 · 5 months
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This is a special genre of f1 picture(to ME.)
#ive talked a lot about helmets lately oops#i guess i just rly have an obsession with how they're an extension of the driver#and a representation of them and their only sense of personality and individuality when theyre all geared up#so theres something to me about the separation of helmet from driver like in these pics#of course theres pics of the helmet on its own for model kinda pics(like all the pics i used for my past project posts)#but this is its own genre. helmet doing its own thing. helmet away from the vicinity of its owner#helmet being protected from the elements. it has its own carrying bag. it gets an umbrella. etc etc#the first pic made me on the lookout for pics w a similar vibe. IDK WHY BUT IM RLY OBSESSED WITH IT#having a severe helmet fucker era </3 i look at these and i feel very weird about them 😭#not included cause its a differnt genre but also thinking abt pics where someone other than the driver themselves is holding their helmet#theres something weirdly intimate to me about it. its too reminiscent of that one painting of the germanic warrior holding the roman helmet#<- DO YOU GET WHAT IM IMPLYING HERE.#anyways. i digress. helmet being taken care of and protected is cute to me#its such an extension of the driver so its kinda funny ig that they get their own photoshoots#also yeah these are all nando helmets bcs i couldn't find pics from other drivers that i thought had the same vibe#and i think its interesting how these correlate with whom the photographer is and the level of popularity of the driver#like are you popular enough that someone will see your helmet apart from you and think its important enough for a pic?#and its so interesting comparing pics from the same time from different teams#bcs you can see how different the motivations of the different photographers are based on what the pics are like#well blah blah blah helmet kink blah blah blah#f1#formula 1#fernando alonso#helmet
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lockandkeyhyena · 1 year
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angels aren’t allowed to bleed
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tea-kettlezz · 18 days
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Revelation about Grey I made during a conversation with a friend
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So you know how a lot of CoDZ characters have dead moms? Samantha herself and Billy Handsome are the first to come to mind, but I'm certain there's more. Grey is also a character who has a dead mother
But what makes Grey stand out is that she's not only a character with a dead mother but ALSO a character who is a dead mother. She's been both the dead-mother-haver and the dead mother herself
Doubt it's anything substantial or genuinely important but I thought it was kinda interesting
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uniquezombiedestiny · 2 years
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...and i thought you were better than this.
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fluffyfairyzz · 11 months
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I JUST ACIDENTKY DELETED AN ASK NOOO 😭😭
so to the one anon whos asked if i was a shamura kin , nah when i say the purple crown i mean the literal crown. i am a literal crown this is me 👍 /srs /gen
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yes i am aware this is kinda a weird kintype 🧍
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dragpinkman · 1 year
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me when i get blood tests done to figure out what is wrong and something actually comes back positive confirming that i am not gaslighting myself and i am legitimately sick: 🧍‍♂️
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cheswirls · 2 years
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ace takes one hand out from deep pockets to tug the edge of a bandana down, dropping it back to his neck before stuffing his fist back out of sight in the lining of his jacket. he exhales into musty air and breathes back in through his nose, lips puckering at all the foul scents he’s met with.
it doesn’t take long to arrive at his destination. he doesn’t knock on the door, only kicks out at the bottom third with the thick sole of his boot. the heavy metal rockets inward under the force of his heel before stopping cold, getting caught on the raised ground. it’s just enough room for ace to comfortably squeeze his broad shoulders through. he takes a hand out to rap on the wall after he’s entered. “yo, doc! you in?”
no answer.
ace leans back against the worn metal with a sigh. his eyes scan the place, picking out this and that, but nothing out of the ordinary. same state of orderly disarray. some progress done here and there on various contraptions. scraps and supplies shoved into dusty corners. the hum and twinkle of non-automated electronics, and so many cords strewn over the ground that ace has to keep his eyes on his feet when he chances a trek to the opposite doorway.
he makes it all the way there in one piece only to have the sliding door shoved open in front of his face. ace stands stock-still, almost expecting it to close back once trafalgar law sees his face, and wanting to avoid getting clipped in the nose if at all possible.
law, unlike his main room, looks worse for wear. tired, with dark circles painted under his eyes. unkempt, with scruff hanging off his face and his hair falling limp over both ears. plain, without his industrial bars, or hoops, or anything in his ears, from what ace can tell. 
“you’re early,” law mutters. he squints at the same time ace does, trying to make him out without his glasses.
“i’m late,” ace counters, still in mild disbelief. he leans one forearm on the doorway to keep it from shutting, and places both feet over the threshold, forcing his way through. “and i don’t have all day, so let’s just get started. tell me what you need. i’ll help set up.”
law huffs and gives up with a grimace still on his face. he shoves ace away from a shelf of supplies, then shoulder-checks him when he slides past to grab his lense case. “get on the exam chair, then,” he gruffs, busying himself in front of the dingy mirror. “and don’t. touch. anything.”
“aye-aye,” ace mutters. he dutifully moves to the cleaner, more sterile side of the living space and climbs onto the aforementioned chair, leaning back against ripped padding. 
when he can see properly, law joins him. he fiddles with the busted controls at the base of the chair to lower ace a good foot, and once he’s locked in place, law steps back to flip a panel of switches near the far side of the wall. 
ace’s eyes narrow as bright lights trigger overhead, directly in view. he tips his head away with a wince. “a warning would’ve been nice,” he bites.
law snorts and makes his way over. ace watches him roll his eyes before rolling up both sleeves. “lights are on.”
“little late now,” ace mutters. law either doesn’t hear him or chooses to ignore it. he busies himself with dragging a surgical tray over, old wheels squeaking noisily across the floor. when ace finally looks over, law’s tapping a needle full of clear liquid. both hands are gloved in white, a stark contrast to his dark skin and even darker ink spread all the way up to his shoulders. 
“what’s that?” ace asks. this time law properly ignores him.
“i heard you’ve been hanging around bad company.” law steps forward when he’s satisfied, trading the syringe for an elastic to tighten around ace’s arm. he jerks ace’s sleeve up near his elbow in one sharp motion, baring his soulmark completely in the harsh lighting. then he picks the syringe back up.
“you mean the revos?” ace hisses and grits his teeth to keep from doing it again. he watches the needle slide into his skin and eyes the vial suspiciously. “i wouldn’t say we’re on friendly terms, if that’s what you mean. it’s like stealing from thieves.”
“you’re getting mixed up in something bigger than you know, ace.” law waits until the syringe is empty and then withdraws, replacing the needle with a cotton swab. 
ace raises a brow. “that a warning?”
law shrugs. “you can take it as one. don’t get mixed up with that lot. it’s not worth it.”
“quite an opinion you have there.” ace frowns when law upcaps an empty syringe. “alright, seriously, what is this about?”
“i need a new blood sample.” law says this and then wastes no time in sliding the clean needle in place. “and of course i have opinions. my sister is one of them.”
“that so?” ace grunts, wincing around the pain. “i’ll be sure to say hi if i run into her.”
“just do me a favor and try not to burn her to a crisp.” law fills the vial, caps it, and slides on another quite proficiently. ace frowns deeper.
“how much are you taking? i said i still have things to do. if you run me dry–”
“just enough to leave you without complaint,” law interrupts, switching the second vial for a third. “now will you shut it already? i’m doing you a favor.”
“a favor would be giving me some of your blood in return,” ace mutters, turning his head away to avoid the sight. “i know we’re the same type.”
“i keep telling you that’s not how this works.” law caps the third vial and leans away with a sigh. “we could replace all the blood in your body and it still wouldn’t make a difference. not with ten years of built-up radiation poisoning.” 
“yeah, yeah.” ace huffs, yanking his sleeve back down to cover the mark on his wrist. “what did you give me, then? something different?”
“something that had a positive reaction to the last sample.” law collects all the vials and moves them to an insulated chamber along the wall. “whatever ill-effects you’ve had as of late should lessen. well, except the ones pertaining to this.” law pivots on his heel and taps on his own wrist in ace’s line of sight. “how is that going, by the way?”
ace grits his teeth and stares at the ceiling to avoid law’s knowing gaze. “probably worse on them than me so far. i’m not exactly the most careful person in the world. speaking of which.” he reaches down to yank up on the cuff on his sweats, baring the beginning of his calf for law to see. “think you can switch out the bandages? it’s such a pain to keep up with without any supplies.”
“you mean you haven’t stolen any yet?”
ace barks out a harsh laugh. “funny. you know who my stuff goes to.”
“that must be where you’re in such a rush to get to today.” law crosses his arms over his chest and thinks on it. “if you have funds i should just charge you.”
“and three vials of my blood isn’t enough?” ace angles his head to look over at law. “you could harvest a lot of seastone out of that. at least give me some painkillers.”
“only thing in supply is neural blockers.” law taps his own wrist, again. “figured you’d kinda wanna keep those pathways open, for better or worse. until this all gets sorted out.”
“fine, whatever.” ace drops the cuff back down and stands from the chair in a flourish. “i don’t have time to waste. if we’re done i’m leaving. go back to sleep or whatever.”
“can’t say it’s been a pleasure, portgas.” law flips him off on his way out the door, and ace grins over his shoulder in return. “don’t get yourself killed before i can collect another batch of samples.”
“i change my mind. maybe i will burn your sister when i recognize her.”
“good riddance, i say,” law mutters. he watches ace slink out the front entrance and blocks the open space fully with his tall frame. “maybe she’ll realize how stupid she’s being.”
“eh.” ace glances over his shoulder one more time, stuffing both hands deep into his pockets, wrists out of sight and out of mind. “gotta have something worth fighting for. if she wants to tackle toppling the city-state, i say let her die trying. it’s a test of resolve, if anything.”
“you know my opinion,” law mutters, waving him off. 
ace leaves without any sort of farewell. good thing, too, because by the time he’s rounded the corner, the pain in his back is so intense it’s hard to keep upright. he keeps a straight face until he’s out of sight, crossing a rundown walkway to get to a certain shopkeep duo’s place of residence. 
then he thinks about how simple life will be once he gets all this soulmark shit under wraps.
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snz-thoughts · 3 days
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I love k/ekkai s/ensen since i found out it existed in 2019 and knowing that y/asuhiro n/ightow (creator of T/rigun) made that animanga too I became obsessed ever since.
Thing is,, I found an ao3 short "sickfic" abt my favorite kkss ship and gasp it's so canon aahhgg S/teven definitely is a workaholic and K/laus would not tolerate him going to work while being sick...!!!
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othercrossee · 1 year
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number one palina critic
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tyunphoria · 9 months
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🌪️it’s a scream, BABY ! — h.js
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⚠️NSFW CONTENT⚠️
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ghostface!han jisung x reader
SYPNOSIS: when you thought you finally escaped that psycho who calls himself ghostface . . . think again. he always finds you.
INCLUDES: AFAB reader, ex!bf han jisung, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), slight angst near the end if you squint, SMUTTT, aftercare, ngl kinda rushed oops.
WARNINGS: obsessive behaviour, threatening, mentions of death and murders, han having slight yandere tendencies, DOM!han, fingering, hair pulling, dacryphilia, praise, implied voice kink, knife play, fear play, finger-sucking, rough sex ig idk, begging.
wc: 3.7k
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You approach the front door with relief, the aches in your feet swelling after a long day. "I'm home," you call out wearily.
Silence responds. No clattering of dishes from the kitchen, no muffled music from upstairs. Just the low whine of machinery emanating from somewhere.
Frowning, you kick off your heels, biting your lip against the sting of fresh blisters forming at the back of your ankles. Your shoulders slump as you drop onto the couch, its faded pattern doing little to lift your spirits.
Wincing, you massage the ache from your feet, inspecting the angry skin stretched tight over your swollen heels. Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the steady hum of the fan fades into the background. You lean your head back, eyes drifting shut against the gathering gloom. Slipping off your shoes was the first victory of what promises to be a long night ahead.
Laundry, mopping the floor, cleaning out the cupboards; fuck it, that can wait till tomorrow morning.
Sliding the uniform jacket from your shoulders, you sigh with the release of tension. The cool air hits your skin as you unbutton your work blouse, revealing a tank top beneath.
You adjust your skirt, glad to be free of the restrictive waistband and back into casual clothes. Glancing at the clock, you let out a sigh. Your roommate must be still working out late again. So much for a promised and well deserved girl’s night.
For now, though, you tune out the noise and settle further into the couch. Remote in hand, you aimlessly scroll through TV options in search of a mindless distraction. Anything to pull your exhausted mind from the drudgery of the day.
2 years, you frown.
It’s been two years since you’ve moved to seoul after the ghostface attacks from your hometown. You were lucky enough to survive, but the price of your survival was steep. It entailed enduring the loss of friends and family.
Till this day, it’s still a mystery as to who the killer was. Rather, killers as some people theorize.
But you know who he is.
You knew ghostface all too well.
How could you not ? He was the man you once loved and cared for. Until he went batshit insane and claimed to only be doing what’s best for the both of you by killing anyone who came in between your relationship.
You can’t tell the police. You can’t tell anyone. If his name happens to get leaked in the public, you’re the first person he’d go for.
“Stop thinking about him,” you groan, rubbing your temples. He’s probably dead in a ditch somewhere, why stress over it ? You settle on the news channel instead as you slump further into the couch.
“We interrupt your regular programming with breaking news. This is Lee Dae-suk reporting live from the scene. Just moments ago, authorities received a distress call by a janitor from HYBE Co.” you quickly sit up from your seat as you hear these words. That’s where you worked . . .
“Upon arrival, they discovered a chilling scene that has left investigators and the community in shock,” the reporter continues on with how there were two victims from your workplace suffering from injury and were rushed to the er, and the other two were found dead. “. . . the initials G.F. were carved on their chests. Detectives suspect that this traces back to the ghostface attacks of 2021 in [hometown]. We advise all citizens of seoul to be on high alert for potential suspects. Law enforcement officials advises everyone to stay indoors no longer than nine.
We will keep our viewers informed as this case unfolds. We now return to your regular scheduled programming brought to you by—“
You grab the remote and quickly shut off the tv.
“Shit, please f/n, answer your phone,” you gnaw on your nails whilst pacing around the living room. If this is the same ghostface, he must’ve followed you. It would be all your fault for leading him here. The thought makes you sick.
You dial her number again with shaking hands, desperate for an answer.
“Hey—“
“F/n!”
“you’ve reached f/n’s voice mail ! i’ll call you back when—“
“Fuck !” You exclaimed, throwing your phone onto the couch in frustration. The worry and fear is eating you alive. You try calling again and again, each unanswered ring twisting the knot of anxiety in your stomach tighter. With a sigh of defeat, you finally slump down on the couch, cradling your head in your hands.
"She'll be fine...she has to be fine," you say quietly to yourself, taking a slow, steadying breath. But before you can fully calm your racing mind, your phone suddenly rings, the sound jolting through you. Your heart leaps into your throat as you don’t bother checking the caller ID before picking it up with trembling hands.
“Hello ? F/n ?”
- “hey, baby.”
replied a deep, gravelly, modulated voice.
- “miss me ?”
Your breath hitched as you froze. A shiver ran down your spine as your eyes flicker to the open blinds.
“Ghostface.” You acknowledge. From the other line, you could hear him click his tongue in disapproval.
- “I prefer the nickname ‘darling’.”
“What the fuck do you want, Jisung ?” You tried not to show any signs of fear but the slight tremble in your voice says so otherwise.
“What ? Aren’t you gonna go ask me what my favourite scary movie is ?” You made your way in the kitchen as your hand inched to grab a knife.
- “I have a better question. Do you like games, y/n ?”
You pass your index finger between the various knives on the rack, fingers wrapping around the biggest handle.
“Fuck you.”
Jisung can be heard chuckling. His laugh made your stomach twist. What sick bastard thinks all of this is just a game ?
- “Even with that knife in your hand, you’re still as beautiful as ever. And the look of fear in your face ? It’s fucking hot, baby . . .”
You feel your heart starting to race as you flinch and turn around, all your senses now activated.
- “Tell me, are you gonna stab poor ol’ ghostface with that knife ? You aren’t any better from me, y/n.”
He was taunting you and you knew that.
You end the call after telling him that he could go fuck himself before rushing over to the windows and locking them shut. Same goes for the door as well while you clutch the edge of the dinner table as if your body were threatening to collapse.
The phone vibrates in your hand, except this time it wasn’t a call but a notification from the unknown number.
Your hands begin to shake once again as you huff and puff to regain composure, clicking on the notification to reveal a video.
A video of f/n entering her car.
You jumped at another vibration. He’s trying to call you again. The whole situation was frustrating — not only were you scared as shit, also a bit agitated with how he wasn’t just threatening you but your loved ones as well.
You peer down the halls, silently peeking at every room. When you finally accept the call, your heart drops at his words.
- “Hang up on me again, I dare you. I’ll mail this bitch’s head at your door, don’t fucking test me, y/n.”
The violence of his threat burned your eyes but you had no choice but to swallow back your tears. You’d just have to listen, so no one else got hurt. You can’t bear losing anyone—not again . .
“Jisung,” you close your eyes as a shuddered breath escapes your lips. “I’ll listen. I’ll do anything you want, okay ? Just please, don’t hurt anyone.”
He slightly softens at your pleas. Jisung still loves you, with all his heart and he wishes for nothing more than to go back to how things used to be. But he knew better than that, he's already far too deep to return with how he used to be.
- “Such a good girl for me . . . See how easy it is to obey ?”
Despite the fear, you cursed at the way he still had an affect on you. Somewhere in him, it’s still the same Han Jisung you’ve grown to love. The feelings you’ve stored away after all these years were beginning to resurface, and you were ashamed to admit it.
- “hm, what game, what game . . . Have you ever heard of the game hot and cold ?”
You nod, clutching the phone tighter. Words were stuck in your throat and you knew he could see you though he seemed to be dissatisfied.
- “Use your words, beautiful.”
His nicknames are starting to trigger a reaction that you hadn’t expected and felt so guilty. Heat spreads through your body, and shamefully enough, between your legs.
“I have,” you stammer.
- “Alright. Here’s the deal; find me and all of this’ll be over. I’ll leave you alone. Sounds like a plan ?” It seems all too good to be true. Find him and then what ? Will you have to just trust his word and believe that you’ll be finally left alone ?
- “Better start looking, I’m getting impatient here, princess.”
After a few minutes, neither of you spoke. The silence is weighing heavily down on your shoulders. The thought of not knowing where he is and him being able to pop out and slice you at any moment now increased your degree of fear. You walk out of the living room and open your roommate’s door, switching the light on.
- “cold.”
You grumble in response and made your way to your own bed room, eyes landing on the doors of your closet. Hands inching closer to the handles, you hear his breathing become more erratic making you pause.
- “Why’d you stop, baby ? Perhaps I’m in there.”
Your hands trembled as you grab the handles of your closet and pulled it wide open with eyes closed. To your surprise, he wasn’t there.
- “keep looking, sweetheart.” He laughs tauntingly. “Remember, this isn’t some cliche horror movie. The closet, really ?”
- “What's next ? The basement ?”
“Fuck you !” You didn’t wanna play this game anymore. By the time you found him, you’d be dead from a heart attack.
You exit your room and keep walking.
- “still cold.”
Sighing in annoyance, you head for the opposite direction, about to pass the bathroom till he spoke.
- “warmer.”
Taking a deep breath, the door creaks open as you step inside, flicking the light switch on. You inch closer to the shower curtain, letting out a tiny whimper.
- “You’re getting so warm. Very good, baby.”
You never had a thing for praise till now and let me just say that shit made your knees buckle. You wish you could just tell him to stop messing with you, the whole situation itself was already confusing enough.
- “Now you’re boiling.”
You grip the shower curtain and throw it open.
Nothing.
Absolutely, nothing.
“Bastard,” you groan. “Show yourself, asshole ! I’ll beat the shit out of you !“
- “hey now, no need to get violent. Keep talking to me like that and I’ll fuck that attitude out of you,” han spat.
“I’m done with your shit. Grow a pair and come at me, why don’t you ?” You held your phone tightly in your hand you could’ve crushed it. You head to the kitchen and grab a glass of water to soothe your dry throat. You laugh in realization, “I doubt you’re even here. God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I fell for it. How else could you send the video if her work’s like miles and miles away ?”
- “you asked for it. No backing out, ‘kay babe ?”
You pause. “What ?”
You immediately drop the glass along with your phone as a gloved hand reaches from behind to clasp over your mouth. Letting out a muffled scream, you thrash in his grasp, reaching to grab the knife from the counter but his free hand swiftly takes hold of both of your wrists and binding them behind your back as the masked man hunches you over the counter.
“Surprise, y/n.”
Tears blur your vision with your screams and whimpers getting muffled by jisung’s glove. He lets go, giving you some time to catch your breath.
“Let go, jisung !”
He inhales audibly, bringing you tight against him. “Scared, sweetheart ? I know you want this as much as I do . . . Think I didn’t notice the way you were practically soaking wet with just my voice ?” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. “Such a naughty, naughty girl.”
The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. A moan threatens to leave your mouth but you manage to bite your lip. His hand inches lower, slipping through the waistband of your shorts, clenching your thighs to refrain from giving him access.
“Open those legs for me, pretty girl,” he clicks his tongue, getting impatient.
“Burn in hell.”
With that little comment, he rips off your shorts along with your lacy panties. A new complaint comes from the back of your throat and you start to squirm and thrash again, unconsciously moving your ass against his clothed cock to push him away.
He snickers, keeping you pinned on the counter. “Impatient, are we ?” He lifts his robe and tugs his sweatpants down. Han jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.
“I missed you,” he rips his mask off, trailing kissing along your neck while he taps the flat of the knife against your cheek. “So fucking much . . .”
“What do you want ?” You gulp, melting in his tight embrace. God, you missed this. You missed him.
“You.” He rolls his eyes, “thought it was pretty obvious, but guess i have to spell it out.”
Han lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and stomach, applying more pressure afterwards to slice your tank top open. The cold air hitting your hardened nipples and the knife lightly dragging along your breasts made you gasp and arch your back against him.
He teases your cunt with the handle, dragging the object along your folds as he circles your clit with it. “Like that, sweetheart ?”
You moan as he smiles at the cry he drew from you.
“Use your words, baby,”
You took a shaky breath, hips swaying. “Fuck you, han jisung.”
He plasters on an amused smile as he shoves the handle in your cunt.
“I really gotta fix that nasty attitude of yours.” He says, taking his glove off.
He replaces the handle with his fingers, gently curling them as he moves it in and out your sopping pussy. You draw out a long whine, legs trembling and you could barely keep yourself up. “Oh god…. Fuck, jisung….”
The cute noises you were making encourages him to keep going as he picks up the pace, thrusting his fingers harder and deeper.
His other hand reaches up and closes his fist around your throat, scissoring his fingers inside of you. You’re reaching for logic, for dignity, but everywhere there’s only him.
Your moans were getting louder and louder at each plunge of his fingers, deciding ‘fuck it’ since it felt too good to stop now. His thumb pressed your clit in a delicious way which brought a familiar sensation in your lower belly. The coil in your stomach tightens painfully.
Han grins at this, knowing you were close.
He purposely pulls his fingers out before your release, suddenly feeling empty as a long string of curses and whines spill from your lips.
“Seriously ? Literally what the fuck—“
Han silences you by pushing the two fingers into your mouth.
His fingers skillfully venture deeper into your throat. The slight pressure causes you to choke momentarily, a mix of vulnerability and exhilaration flooding your senses. Your lips form a tight seal around his fingers, tongue swirling and sucking on them as the primal desire to please him fuels your actions while you greedily lapped your tongue.
His mouth, warm and eager, delicately explored the tender flesh of your neck beneath his lips. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, breath hitching in anticipation as he lines himself up against your entrance.
Moaning, you can’t help but impatiently grind against him
“What’s wrong baby ?” Han releases his fingers from your mouth as you gasp for air. “want my cock instead ?”
You nod eagerly.
His grip on your hip tightens as he tugs your hair back, eliciting a curt hiss from your hips. “Words, y/n.”
“Yes . . Please, I want you so bad, please fuck me.”
“Good girl.” He wastes no time sheathing and snapping himself inside of you, his thrust knocking the wind out of your lungs. He swears quietly, feeling how soft your walls were pulsing around him — warm and perfect, everything he missed over the past few years. You choke on your words, eyes fogging with tears as you slur out random sentences.
He grunts, starting off slow. “Thought I stretched you out pretty good but you’re still so goddamn tight. When was the last time you fucked someone, pretty baby ?”
Han deepens his strokes but keeps a teasingly slow pace. “Pl—Please, Jisung-ah …. go faster.” You sniffle, pathetically begging for his cock at this point. It hurt too much. You needed him more than ever.
“Where's the girl who was telling me to burn in hell a couple of minutes ago ?” He laughs and grabs your jaw to turn and face him, “you look better so needy for me like that . . Now, answer my question.” A groan leaves your mouth as his grip gets tighter.
“Since you left !” You sob as he rocks his hips faster, quickly fucking into your heat. “I haven’t found anyone as good as you, jisung-ah—“
He grins, roughly pinning you down on the counter. It was the answer he exactly wanted to hear.
You gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, beginning to see stars as he brings a hand around to the front, running a finger against your swollen clit.
Moving inside of you at a nearly brutal pace, as you feel your release come closer and closer. He feels it too with the way you tighten around him. “M’cumming,” you whine, but he doesn’t stop. Then you came, walls clenching around him as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs tremble under the intensity, tapping on his arm for him to let you breathe for a second.
His hands grab your waist and uses it as leverage to thrust into you, leaving you little to no time to at least catch your breath. You try to speak but another one of his hard thrusts trigger a loud moan.
“Doing so well for me, baby. Think you can cum a second time ?” You moan brokenly, unable to respond. Your tongue hangs from your swollen lips and your throat feels dry. You never expected being fucked silly by the one and only han jisung ever again but here we are. You feel selfish for not wanting it to end and for wanting to be with him again.
He pulls you up and flips you around, hungrily smashing his lips against yours as if he’s been waiting to finally taste and have you all to himself for decades.
- - - -
“I hate you,” you groan as he lays you down on the soft mattress of your bed. “so fucking much.” Han only ever grins in response as he wipes away the cum trickling down your inner thighs.
You can barely move. You can’t even twitch a single finger.
Your limbs were sore and it was all his fault.
Summoning the last ounce of strength within you, you deliver a knee to his abdomen, eliciting a deep grunt from his lips. A look of mild annoyance crosses his face as he settles down beside you, encircling your waist with his strong arm. He presses his face into the soft curve of your neck, his fingertips tracing soothing circles along the tender flesh of your thighs.
“I missed you,”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
You didn’t respond to that.
Suddenly, your lips meet in a sweet collision, a mingling of desire and longing. The taste of anticipation linger on your tongues as Han’s kisses began soft and tender, gentle brushes of lips that convey a depth of emotion words could never capture. With each meeting of your mouths, your passion ignites, growing more fervent, more urgent.
His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, while your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the ardor of your embrace. Your mouths moved in perfect synchronicity, exploring and claiming, as if they were trying to memorize every contour, every taste.
The moment is abruptly shattered by the piercing wail of police sirens echoing just outside the house. Panic grips your heart, forcing you to acknowledge the harsh reality that the person you love is still a criminal; a killer.
With a heavy sigh, he gently drapes the covers over your form, shielding you from the impending chaos. Reluctantly, he pulls himself away, but not without leaving a lingering kiss upon your trembling lips, as if to imprint his love upon you, even in the face of uncertainty.
"Y/n?!" A familiar voice calls out from outside, the voice of your roommate.
His lips press against your forehead, his touch both comforting and fleeting. Your fingers instinctively cling to his sleeve, desperately trying to hold onto the moments you have shared.
"Wait, Jisung..." you plead, your voice laced with apprehension and longing. Your thumbs nervously fiddle with each other, betraying the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.
A mischievous smile plays upon his lips as he leans closer, his voice a whispered reassurance. "Will you come back?" The thought of losing him again scared you.
"It isn’t that easy to get rid of me," he smiles cheekily as he opens the window sill, "Don't miss me too much.
“Remember, whether you like it or not, I'll always find you."
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a/n: the amount of times ive watched all of the scream movies (esp 1, 4, and 6) is not healthy</3
also, han jisung brain rot wkjanjanw
this was honestly supposed to be a two part with minsung but i decided against it idk kinda wanna do more ghostface aus with ateez or something
like im boutta write some ethan landry x readers cus lemme js say 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
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tokkiwrites · 3 months
Text
⠀⠀⠀99 problems, what's one more?
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ㅡㅡㅡin which you're a struggling student but are determined to work for your money. your friend's stepfather is conveniently rich but you can't just accept the money your friend gives you. so you decide to earn it...in a way.
★ ͘porn with plot ig, friends step dad kinda, dom!kraven, sub!reader, afab reader, no use of y/n, implied age gap but not mentioned, mention of cheating, pet names, praises & degradation, dirty talk, kind of size kink, pnv unprotected (wrap it up), head f receiving, creampie, lmk if i missed anything.
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The crisp autumn air hung heavy as you stood outside the grand estate of Sergei Kravinoff, your friend's stepfather. The towering mansion loomed before you, a stark contrast to your modest student life.
god,how'd I get here ?
Financial struggles had woven themselves into the fabric of your existence, but pride held you back from accepting charity. Determined to work your way through the challenges, you declined your friend's offer of financial assistance. However, fate had other plans. Your friend, aware of your pride and the persistent lack in your wallet, proposed a compromise.
"Just help around the house," they suggested, eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "Sergei's maid just left the country, and the manor could use an extra pair of hands."
"I don't know..."
"I promise you, he's not that bad!"
Reluctantly, you agreed, ignoring the silent plea in your friend's eyes. Little did you know, this decision would plunge you into a whirlwind of unexpected emotions.
The first day on the job arrived, and you found yourself nervously adjusting your sweater as you entered the mansion. Sergei, a magnetic presence, greeted you with a nod, his piercing eyes assessing you with a hint of amusement.
"Didn't think you'd actually show up." he scoffed.
"Good afternoon to you too, Mr. Kravinoff." you forced out a smile, looking around, trying to adjust your sight to the warm lights of the hallway.
"your room's upstairs, first floor, third door to the left. you don't gotta do much, just so you know. plus, these two weeks will go by fast." he tried to sound understanding, ease your arrival. It didn't really work, though. it wasn't in his blood.
"you've got a good friend, darling."
oh. you liked that more than you'd want to admit. nonetheless, you swallow your stutter.
"I know."
"Well, stop standing there. Go to your room, get yourself some food if you want to. I'll be in my office if you need anything."
you nod, listening as his steps grew distant. huffing, you let out a breath you didn't know were holding. of course, you weren't scared of the work itself. What's a bit of dusting got on you? being here, with your overwhelmingly, deliciously hot step dad of your friend, though? that's scary.
The first day unfolded in a haze of unfamiliar tasks and the lingering weight of Sergei's presence. Climbing the grand staircase, you found the room as instructed, its plush furnishings, a stark contrast to your student lodgings.
As you settled in, thoughts swirled in your mind. "How did I end up here?" you wondered, grappling with the surreal nature of the situation. The daunting realization hit you: two weeks of trying to keep your cool around Sergei. "It's two weeks. Two weeks is like... two days."
you hate to admit it, but you've fantasized about your friends' step dad more than you'd like. you shiver at the thoughts, flooding your mind again, scrunching your nose up, and plopping down on the comically large bed in your room.
"So, how's the trip with your mom going?"
"barely seen her today. pretty sure she's out banging and about." your friend laughs their way through that statement. "so she's cheating on your step-dad?" you seem unmoved by her joking demeanor.
"ewww, girl, don't call him that! he's just her boyfriend. and i don't even know for how much longer, honestly." your ears ring, a smile creeping onto your face. maybe this is what you needed to ease the guilt. "that's unfortunate." real unfortunate.
"yeaahh..." they sigh."I'll totally miss his private beach parties."
The next morning, you found yourself in the kitchen, contemplating a menu more extravagant than anything you'd prepared before. Sergei, clad in a well-tailored suit, entered, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "I hope you're not burning my kitchen down," he teased. The way his rough voice pulled at your core got you jumping.
"sorry for scaring you, darling. wanted to let you know you gotta water the inside plants today."
"yes, Mr. Kravinoff." you hang your head low whilst cutting some cherry tomatoes.
"Stop that." he clicks his tongue, motioning you to turn around and face him. "Look at me when I'm talking, yeah?"
your heart drops to your ass and up to Jupiter, plummeting into your chest. "Iㅡ sorry, sir. I will, I'm sorry."
"And call me Sergei. I'm not that old."
"Yes, sirㅡ Sergei." kill me now. launch me into an active volcano, please.
"Good." he eyes you. "Good girl." Leaving you in the kitchen filled by the hum of the refrigerator.
you wouldn't mind an asteroid hitting the earth just about now. how embarrassing, all soaked and bothered just because of two words he said. you wouldn't mind hearing him saying that again.
that night, as you made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, you crossed paths with Sergei in the dimly lit corridor. "Can't sleep?" he inquired, his voice low and intimate. The air crackled with tension, and the realization hit you that this arrangement was far from ordinary.
"Uh, yeahㅡ new bed and all." Sure. it totally wasn't because you were too busy thinking about him ravishing you and making you his.
"That so?" he quirks a brow up before scratching his beard and leaning in closer. "You might wanna learn how to lie next time, pretty girl." shit.
"I'm sorry?" You gulp at his rightfully directed accusation.
"Don't play dumb, doll. Y'know, I can read everything in that cute head of yours just by looking at you." he traces, fingers pulling at the strap of your pajama.
The way he spoke, the way he looked at you, and the way he touched you; it all felt like a dream. It was impossible for you to look away, or resist him, or even tell him to stop. Your breath hitched, and you were flooded with a warm sensation as he spoke again, this time inching closer to you.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. In fact, I like it when you lie. It's so much more exciting seeing you struggle so much..." he almost purrs "bet that pussy is real wet for me right now, huh, baby?"
"Mr. Kr-avinoff ㅡ"
As Sergei's lips grazed your neck, a soft sigh escaped your parted lips. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, a heady mixture of musk and sophistication that enveloped you. His kisses were like a delicate dance, a cocktail of sensations that sent shivers down your back.
"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this," Sergei confessed in a low, husky voice, his words a seductive melody. The warmth of his breath against your skin intensified the intimacy, and you found yourself completely under his spell.
Fingers trailed along your spine, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. a soft chuckle escaped Sergei's lips as he savored the effect he had on you.
Time seemed to stretch. stop.
Sergei pulled back slightly, his piercing gaze fixed on your flushed face. "You're so easily affected by me, aren't you? pretty girl." he teased, his voice a velvety purr that resonated with the vulnerability he'd uncovered. A coy smile played on his lips as he leaned in again, a master at exploiting the desire that simmered beneath your surface.
You weren't one to like getting in trouble, situations like these. But right now, you could bathe in forbidden. It was surrealㅡ it was tainted.
Your breathing grew shallow and quick as you took in the scent of his musk, your body reacting to his proximity. The warmth of his breath caressed your neck. His rough fingers brushed your skin again, sending a shiver over your entire body as he pulled you closer, his voice lowering to a murmur.
"Come closer now darling, let me take care of you. reward you." he preyed at your lips with his thumb that you took the liberty to lick with the tip of your tongue. it was salty, and you're sure you could taste ink used to sign his papers. salty and wrong. but it enveloped your tastebudsㅡ your favorite flavor in this moment; a flavor that spoke of secrets and clandestine affairs, a taste that sent a thrill through your senses.
Sergei's low chuckle reverberated through the room, a sinister melody. "This what you want, baby?"
"please.." you sounded more desperate than you anticipated. it came out whiny, needy, and raw. though... you were ready to beg even more.
"naughty girl." he murmured, "so naughty and needy, yeah? come on, babyㅡ say it." he urged, his voice low that danced with promises unspoken. The subtle command held a magnetic force, and you yielded to the gravitational pull.
"I'm so needy, s-sirㅡ please.." the floor spun under you. "come." he motions, and you follow behind like a puppy into his room. As you stepped inside, the air seemed to change, thick with the heady scent of rich mahogany and aged leather.
The walls, draped in dark, textured wallpaper, absorbed the ambient light, casting a warm and intimate glow across the space. The windows were veiled with heavy, velvet curtains. A grand four-poster bed dominated the center, almost menacingly.
You were pulled out of your head once you felt Sergei's palm settle onto your hip and pull your back flush to his hard chest. you could feel the bulge in his pants nestled between your ass cheeks. "Tell me you want this, baby. don't want you regretting it later." and for that moment, he did seem genuine. He did speak warm, and your heart jumped higher into your chest.
"please kiss me." you blurt out.
Sergei's response was immediate, his breath hitching audibly. The scent of your hunger, an intoxicating fragrance, seemed to envelop him, and desire ignited in the depths of his eyes. His hands, calloused and possessive, tightened their grip on your hips, conveying an urgency that mirrored the throb of desire pulsating between you.
A deep groan rumbled from within him as his mouth found yours in an intense, hungry kiss. Lips melded in a dance of fervor, and as his tongue sought entrance, the kiss deepened into a song of passion. his effect on you was evident in the way his touch sent electric currents coursing through your body, every caress a deliberate stroke that fueled the flames inside of your core.
With a gentle but commanding force, he guided you backward until the plush bedding met the backs of your legs. The grandeur of the four-poster bed became the backdrop, and you surrendered willingly to the pull of the moment.
The room echoed with soft moans and the rustle of fabric as Sergei's skilled fingers slid underneath your clothes, exploring the contours of your body. The delicate dance between vulnerability and passion unfolded with every touch, your senses heightened by the intoxicating blend of sensations.
Your body responded like a finely tuned instrument, surrendering to the symphony orchestrated by Sergei. Legs trembling with heady ecstasy, you found yourself immersed in a moment that transcended the boundaries of reason and restraint. you wanted moreㅡ needed more. in the end, what's one more problem next to 99.
"I'm going to ruin this pretty body of yours, doll. make you remember who got you all needy like thisㅡ look at her.." he presses two fingers agains your clothed cunt, "fucking soaked, i barely touched you yet. dirty slut." throwing your head back, you whine, searching for his touch. "sit still. be a good girl and sit still."
you comply. what else were you to do? when he's got your sprawled out on his bed, ready to let him feast on your body.
"just need a good fucking, right? its why you're hereㅡ not money. just want to be fucked senseless." Sergei's laughs almost taunting. "I'll fuck you, don't worry. make you sit on this cock until you can't walk no more."
fuck. this is really happening. it might be all you've dreamed of and more.
a few seconds pass as you hear Sergei pull down his pants, then yours and finally your underwear. "look at her. so wet and ready to be filled just right." he traces his finger between your fold before, without warning, diving between your thighs, feasting on your pussy like theres no tomorrow. afrer only mere minutes you turned into a mess, hair messy, tank top pulled over your head to reveal your breasts, moans dripping from your lips like honey, like it was dripping from between your folds.
" ㅡ'm gonna come-" you manage to choke out. "come on, baby. come on my face- show me how much you wanna make me proud." it's all you neede. you let go, million fireworks going off in your stomach as you writhe under him. Sergei picks himself up from between your thighs, sitting over you with both arms bulging on each side of your head. "still sure you want this, pretty?"
you look down only the catch a glimpse of what might be the biggest dick you've ever seen. you swallow dryly.
"so sure ㅡ" you pant. "good." with that he slowly positioned himself in line with your cunt, teasingly rubbing the red tip all over your wet folds, before pushing in. the pain spreads through your body, stings making you jolt. "look at her, swallowing me so well. doing so good, baby." he takes one of your nipples between his teeth, pulling at it as to distract you from the pain lower down.
finally, after much waiting, he was inside. "look at that, baby, i barely fit in there. tight, little pussy, squeezing me in so good." he was so deep, you could literally feel him in your lungs. its not long until he starts moving, hitting your cervix over and over. you moan and cryㅡ from pleasure, pain and anything in between.
Sergei folds your thighs over your chest, your ankles now on his shoulders. he plummets into you, leaving you no room to breathe, showering you in praises and dirty words. and you loved every second of it.
"shit, baby, you feel how deep i am? fuuck- you're gonna let me fill that pretty pussy with my come, huh?" he speeds up. "yes, yes, yes, p-pleaseㅡ inside" you cry and plead incoherently as your second orgasm hits you.
"fuck, baby, fuckㅡ" Sergei closes his eyes, hitting deeper and harder as warm ropes coat your inside and quiet moans slip past your lips. "yeahㅡ look at that." he pulls out, proudly looking at the mess he made of you.
"i might pay you double at the end of these two weeks."
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⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 surprise!!! 2.6k words, hopefully you like it!! not proofread, so if you see any grammatical errors, no u didn't. love u all muah dont forget to leave requests!!!!!
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jishyucks · 5 months
Text
Happy Holidays! The Universe Hates Me. — hrj
‣ pairing: huang renjun x reader
‣ genre: fluff, academic-rivals-to-(implied)lovers, forced proximity, kinda slice-of-life
‣ wc: 3.7k
‣ summary: You don’t hate many things, but you could proudly say that you hate snow and Huang Renjun. And now that the universe has decided that it was a great idea to have you snowed in with the smartass himself, you’ll gladly add the universe to that list.
‣ warnings: slightly one-sided rivalry (more so Renjun’s developed feelings before reader so he’s acting on it before reader even gets what they’re feeling), the pair eat some cup ramen, set in that weird period where they dk how they feel
‣ an: I rly thought this was going to be easy to write but sike (⊙_⊙) ig its bc its basically e2l and these r difficult to write,, I was excited to write Renjun's but idk if I did my own idea justice,, anyways I hope it's still a fun read!
Series Masterlist
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You’ve never been so nervous for a final in your life.
Sure, you didn’t find the content difficult, nor did you feel lost. Hell, if you were asked to explain the content with no aids, you can confidently do it. 
The only reason why you were so nervous for a damn final was because you knew that Huang Renjun was going to do better than you. Why? You’re not sure. But you had this gut feeling that his name was going to be listed right above yours on that stupid list and you were not going to let that happen. 
“You need to go home soon, okay?” Karina frowns. She’s all bundled up, a scarf tightly wrapped over her face to shield her from Jack Frost. She knows how much of a workaholic you were, especially when it came to Renjun, “It’s getting late. It’s already dark out and there’s no one else here. Text me when you get home.”
You nod, “I will, I promise. I’ll just finish this last lesson and then I’ll leave. I’m hungry, anyway.” 
Her stern expression softens underneath her scarf and she teasingly ruffles your hair, “Talk to you later, honeybun.” 
You wave and watch her leave before turning back to the scattered papers in front of you, your laptop burning holes in your eyes because you’ve been staring at it for way longer than a physician’s recommendation. The final was on physics, something that wasn’t your strongest suit. It was probably because the way your teachers decided to word the questions on exams screwed you over—but then again, you couldn’t blame your struggles on that. 
Maybe you did just suck at physics. 
Your eyes scanned the lesson you were currently studying, quietly reading it under your breath so that you could process the information—critical threshold… velocity… laminar to turbulent… fluid and momentum… the dissipation of energy…
“Ughhhh!” 
Your heart drops to your stomach, eyes almost slipping out of their sockets at the sound of another person groaning. You clearly remember Karina just saying that there wasn’t anyone else here. 
Then who in the actual fuck…
Your mind jumps to conclusions and thinks up the worst-case scenario. It could be a ghost… were you Scrooge and the ghosts here to visit you? No fucking way… you loved Christmas… Or it could be a murderer. But what kind of murderer groans before he reaches his target?
Using this as an excuse to procrastinate, you quietly push your chair away from the table and stand up. You can recall that the groaning echoed from the back of the library, so you begin making your way down to the back of the room. Your attempt to keep your footsteps quiet, barely lifting them off from the ground.
You guess you were making your way in the correct direction because now you can hear the sound of muffled music. You suppose it was coming out of the other person’s headphones. 
As you approach the end of one of the aisles of books, you bend over and peek through the cracks between the books. Your eyes betray you, not focusing on the figure sitting at one of the tables because the books are in the way. Leaning closer, you squint to get a better look at the figure studying, head bopping to the music blaring through their headphones. 
Who is that?
When your eyes finally adjust, you curse under your breath.
Personally, you would rather it be a murderer on the other side of the shelf. 
Because Huang Renjun of all people? Here? With you? Did the universe hate you or something?
You let out a faint groan, squeezing your eyes before you go to turn back to your table. 
Of course, Huang Renjun would be here and studying late. There’s a small tiny part of you that wasn’t even surprised that Renjun was the only other person at school at this hour. There was a reason why you felt like he was seriously going to do better than you on this physics final. He worked for it despite being naturally intelligent. 
“Fucking Huang Renjun,” you gently let your forehead fall forward, making a gentle thud against the table. Fucking Huang Renjun because, suddenly, you no longer feel hungry and you now desperately wanted to finish a week’s worth of content before leaving. Sure the idea was immature—doing all this for some guy who thought he was smarter than everyone else—but you couldn’t help it. This was how it’s been since junior high. 
And old habits die hard, right?
For the next 2 hours, you push yourself to study for the stupid final, eyes straining as you continuously shift them between your laptop screen and your papers. And you say push yourself because now that you had the knowledge that Renjun was sitting metres away from you, you somehow could not focus for the life of you. It was like he had cast some spell on you to do anything but focus on physics. 
You groan. You have been reading the same paragraph on boundary layers for the past ten minutes, hyper-aware of Renjun. The words blur together, and you become hyper-aware of Renjun's presence nearby. Despite your efforts, your mind wanders, and occasional stolen glances in his direction betray your attempts at concentration.
With an irritated sigh, you shake your head, attempting to bring yourself back to the task at hand. Why the fuck is Renjun occupying so much of your headspace?
Feeling defeated, you reach forward, roughly shutting your laptop closed before you begin bunching your papers up together. Not a single fibre in your body even cared if it was organized or not—that was for you to worry about later—because you just wanted out of here and away from Renjun before he completely plagues your mind. 
Finally, you throw your bag over your shoulder and begin making your way out of the library. 
Meanwhile, Renjun, who was managing well with his work catches sight of your figure leaving, winter coat zipped up to your nose. 
“Wait, Y/N!” 
You turn back to find Renjun pushing his seat back, getting up to make his way towards you. 
“Ugh,” you roll your eyes. You continue making your way out of the room, ignoring Renjun’s calls for you to stop. 
The mature response would be to, well, stop and listen, but after Renjun just indirectly wasted 2 hours of your life trying to absorb some information on physics, you didn’t want anything to do with him. You just wanted to go home and eat, before you pull another all-nighter to make up for the lost time. 
“Y/N!” 
You were jogging now, treating the situation like Renjun was some kind of monster coming after you. It was odd that Renjun was keeping up with you, tailing you like he was one of those salesmen trying to get you to try a sample of their product. 
You’re relieved when you see the front doors of the school ahead of you, streetlights illuminating through the small half-windows. You feel your feet pick up its pace, eager to finally get out of the building and get fresh air. 
“Y/N!” Renjun’s out of breath, “You can’t leave!” He reaches out and quickly grabs your wrist. The contact causes shivers to run up your arm and you’re quick to pull your limb back. 
Brows furrowed, you sent him daggers through your glare, “And why not?” 
Renjun fishes his phone out from his hoodie pocket and he holds it up despite you not being close enough to see anything on it, “The news. All the roads are closed. No cars on the roads. We’re stuck in here until they say everything’s clear.” 
“You’re lying.” Your stubborn ass refuses to believe Renjun. 
Renjun huffs, “Just check it for your fucking self if you don’t want to believe me.” His arms crossed and he pushes all his weight onto one leg. 
Reluctant to look stupid, you slowly pull your own phone out. You realize that you actually haven’t looked at any notifications lately, all your focus directed toward studying. When you finally look at your phone, you’re met with tens of notifications, both from the news app and a handful from your family members and friends, mainly Karina, who are asking if you’re going home soon or if you’ve gone home because of the news the city sent out about the roads. 
“And why didn’t you leave?” you say awkwardly, “When they sent the warnings out?” 
Renjun swallows his spit, “I didn’t see any of them either. I was too caught up with studying.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you mutter. The realization of the situation starts to sink in—you're trapped at school, possibly overnight, and your only company is Huang Renjun, the boy who’s decided to make himself the bane of your existence. Then, you find yourself teetering between relief that you're not alone and frustration that you're stuck with Huang Renjun of all people.
Your eyes flicker at Renjun, who’s waiting for you to say something to him. And you do, “This is all your fault!”
Renjun’s mouth falls open slightly, the space in between his eyebrows wrinkling at your accusation, “How the hell is this my fault? I didn’t tell the damn city to close the roads!” Renjun holds himself back from raising his voice, but the emptiness of the halls causes it to bounce off the walls. 
“If I hadn’t seen you studying and being the overachiever you are, I would have gone home earlier,” you argue back. The second it slips from your lips, you realize how stupid you actually sound—but you don’t say anything. Without saying another word, you push past Renjun intending to return your spot in the library. 
Renjun, however, isn't one to let things slide. He follows you back into the library, his frustration evident in the tight set of his jaw. "So, it's my fault you chose to stay? That you didn’t see the notifications?” 
You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, not slowing your pace. "I chose to stay because of you! Trying too hard being a model student." 
Despite it being pretty clear that the argument was childish and that it was going nowhere, you and Renjun were far too stubborn to back down. 
Renjun scoffs, catching up to you. "Trying too hard!? I study because I take my education seriously. Maybe if you put in half the effort I do, you wouldn't be lagging behind."
"Oh, spare me, Renjun.” Your blood boils at his condescending tone, whirling around to face him and eyes ablaze with frustration. "You're insufferable, you know that?"
This is where you can see Renjun physically falter. The stress in his brows goes slack and there’s a shift in his expression, “Insufferable? Y/N I—”
"Whatever, Renjun. I really don’t want to speak to you right now.” You roll your eyes and turn your back on him, “Now, If you’ll excuse me, I have a fucking final to study for.”
Ignoring his attempts to keep the conversation alive, you make your way back to your table, your anger simmering in your chest. Renjun watches you go, a mixture of annoyance and something else in his eyes.
The library becomes a battleground of silent tension, each of you (mostly you) seething in your own space.
You set your table back up the way it previously was. Then, you quickly send your friends and family texts explaining what had happened and why you weren’t home by now. 
You attempt to start where you left off, the words Boundary Layers practically taunting you at this point. The phrase is pissing you off and you’ve read it enough times for you to be able to recite the sentence from the textbook perfectly. 
Wave interference, you read, eyes blinking at the screen—something about paths intersecting and creating new patterns of unity… discord… 
You let your eyes do the rest of the scanning, not exactly absorbing any of the material before you move on. At this point, you feel like not studying entirely. Besides, you weren’t exactly in the right state of mind to be absorbing material. 
The clock at the front of the library reads 8:28 and you feel like taking a nap is the best idea right now. It’ll help you cool off, pull you back in the right headspace and perhaps help you with the all-nighter you’ll probably pull tonight. 
Twisting your body, you pull your jacket off of your chair, folding it to create a makeshift pillow. Sliding your things aside, you place the pillow in front of you and shimmy your butt back against the chair before leaning forward to rest your head against it. In all honesty, it wasn’t the most comfortable place to rest your head, but it will have to do for now. 
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
The shuffling of feet and the clattering of objects woke you from your nap.
You don’t move, nor do you open your eyes, all you do is listen to try and figure out what the hell is going on. Through the fabric of your jacket, you can hear that Renjun is moving things around on your table and you can’t help but feel your anger shoot up. 
You keep your cool on the outside, pretending to stir in your sleep before you peek through half-opened eyelids. 
You’d honestly find this part funny if you were watching a drama. But the thing was, you weren’t watching a drama. And it was anything but funny. 
Slowly, you raise your head to get a better look at what Renjun was up to, fully expecting him to be messing with your belongings. You guess you were doing your job correctly because Renjun seems to not have noticed you looking at him. 
The scene (you embarrassingly admit) warms a piece of your heart just by a little bit—and you hate that it does.
Renjun’s trying to keep your papers organized, stacking them horizontally and then vertically to keep them grouped in the stacks you already had them in. He had even moved your laptop to a safer spot, off to the side. 
The reason why he was doing all this was sitting just across the table from you and to Renjun’s left. 
Two cups of instant ramen.
“What are you doing?'' Your voice comes out more hoarse than you’d like, but it was probably because you’ve been napping for what felt like an hour or two. 
Renjun freezes, lips parting slightly and eyes growing two times its size when he realizes that you’re awake. Sure, he would have had to wake you up sooner or later, but you waking up on your own wasn’t part of his plan. He should’ve done all this a bit quieter. 
“I…” He starts. Renjun gulps and pulls back, wringing his hands through sweater paws. 
You wait for him to give you a coherent reply, looking at him in hopes of forcing one out of him. 
Renjun’s at a loss for words, afraid that you wouldn’t quite get him if he explained his reasoning. He leans over and wraps his hand around one of the noodle cups, gently sliding it toward you. 
You blink at the steaming cup in front of you, caught between annoyance and a peculiar sense of gratitude. "Are you trying to make this situation bearable or something?" 
“Well it wouldn’t be fair competition if only I was able to eat, would it?” Renjun shrugs. From his hoodie pocket, Renjun pulls out a plastic fork wrapped in tissue, one he had probably taken from the cafeteria, and places it next to your cup of noodles, “Eat.” 
You blink at the noodles and eye the boy suspiciously, “You didn’t do anything to it, did you?” You mistrustfully pull the fork toward you, unwrapping it before you dip it into the soup. 
“Of course not… I’m not evil.” A scoff shoots out through Renjun’s nose. 
Renjun pulls out a chair from your table, taking a seat before pulling his own cup of noodles toward him. 
Your eyes linger on Renjun for a moment longer, contemplating whether or not you should believe him. Eventually, hunger wins over skepticism, and you take a cautious bite of the noodles. They taste surprisingly good, given the circumstances. 
For a while, there's a strange quiet as both of you focus on your meal. The only sounds are the occasional slurps and the storm outside rattling the windows. It's a bizarre scene, you and Renjun sharing instant ramen in the middle of the night, trapped at school. Who would have thought? 
As you dig into your food, you start feeling a shift in your mood. The annoyance from being woken up slowly turns into a grudging acknowledgement that Renjun tried to make things a bit less crappy. It's kind of funny when you think about it. You two had a small argument earlier, and now here you are, quietly sharing a meal. It's like an unspoken agreement, maybe a truce, even if neither of you is ready to admit it out loud.
Meanwhile, Renjun seems engrossed in his noodles, occasionally glancing in your direction as if gauging your reaction to the impromptu meal. He looks like he wants to say something, but he’s not choosing to do so despite the tension that is usually present in your interactions being strangely minimal. 
Finally, you break the silence. "Where did you get the noodles?"
He looks at you, brows raising at your willingness to start a conversation. "It’s not my first time staying past dinner. I have a stash in my locker."
“Not surprised,” you mumble. You pick the cup up and bring the rim up to your lips. Tipping your head back, you take sips of the soup, feeling the warmth of the fluids fall into your stomach like a hug. 
“Oh, shut up,” Renjun groans, “Or else I’ll take the noodles back.”
“Lucky for me,” you look at him and laugh, “I’m finished.” When you plop the fork back into the cup, it makes that noise you hear when you scratch the cardboard. 
Renjun hums. "Well then, I guess you owe me one. After all, you're enjoying the hospitality of my secret noodle stash." 
You roll your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance, but there's a glint of amusement in your eyes. Of course, Renjun would take this opportunity to gain something for himself. It was such a Renjun move. It’s always been like this. "I could've survived just fine without your instant noodles."
He chuckles, taking the last slurp of his own noodles before he deems himself finished, too. "And yet, you still ate it all up like a starved puppy.” 
There’s a beat of silence before you lean forward, resting your head on your propped arm, “I guess I should say thank you, huh?” 
Renjun grins and you only notice it because it’s more evident in his eyes than it was on his lips. He was seemingly pleased with your acknowledgment, but he quickly covered it up with a nonchalant shrug, "Don't mention it.” His voice comes out soft, mirroring the setting, “If you passed out from hunger under my watch, wouldn’t want that tainting my ‘model student’ image.”
You give him a side-eye, feeling the sudden need to tease him, “Don’t lie, Huang Renjun, you secretly care about me.” The statement was mostly a joke, so you think nothing of it. You stack your empty cup onto Renjun’s and stand up to throw it out. You don’t notice the way Renjun freezes in his seat for half a second.
“And what if I did?” Renjun shrugs. He gulps and feels the sudden need to flee the situation—Why did he say that? 
You turn to face him, surprised by his response. Renjun's casual demeanour, though slightly defensive, holds a hint of genuineness. It's a side of him you're not used to seeing, and it catches you off guard. 
"What if you did what?" you ask, feigning ignorance to see if Renjun would elaborate. A part of you is afraid of what he’s going to say. 
“What if I did care about you?” Renjun’s playing with the corner of one of your papers, creating a sound that fills the silence between the two of you, “I don’t hate you as a person, you know… I get that we always compete in grades and extracurriculars but… I don’t hate you as a person.” 
The confession makes your heart skip a beat and you catch yourself beginning to chew on your bottom lip, something you do when you’re nervous. The unexpected sincerity in his words causes you to halt your own, a momentary pause in your banter. You've grown used to the constant back-and-forth, the verbal sparring that characterizes your interactions with Renjun. This, however, feels different. 
"You're messing with me, right?" you reply, half expecting him to smirk and dismiss the entire conversation as a joke.
“What do you think?” Renjun retorts. 
You take a moment to think everything through. You have a good feeling Renjun’s not joking, that he really doesn’t hate you as a person, and you can’t help but think about the other possibilities of what this meant. Then you think about how you feel towards Renjun because you guess you at least owed him that. 
“You don’t need to say anything now,” Renjun assures, “It’s… confusing. Even I'm still figuring things out… I just know that I don’t hate you.” 
"You're not as insufferable as I claim you are,” you begin cautiously, “But it pisses me off that you both distract and motivate me when it comes to school.” And this was true. Today was a good example of that, though you weren’t entirely sure where these stem from. 
Renjun raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. "I'll take that as a compliment.” 
You roll your eyes. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, Renjun. I’m just saying—” “—Saying that you like me more than you think you do?” Renjun interrupts, “I know, I know.”
Your eyes narrow at Renjun, “You wish.” 
A moment of understanding passes between you, and for the first time, the competitiveness in your dynamic softens. It's not yet a friendship, but it's a recognition that there's more to each other than the constant rivalry. 
Renjun laughs, which transitions into a yawn. He acknowledges your comment with a hum, “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up in a bit so I can study?”
You playfully roll your eyes, a small smile lingering on your lips. 
“Well it wouldn’t be fair competition if I didn’t, would it?”
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tags: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi
an: the next few parts of the series might be posted a day late (until Felix,, but we'll see!). Next up is Jisung which I feel like will be ADORABLE. ty for taking the time to read! I would love to hear your thoughts even if its something short! hope you enjoyed it!
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thelastofhyde · 1 year
Text
the likeability paradox. ( teaser )
this fic has now been posted, read here !
pairing. joel miller x fem!reader
synopsis. joel miller is not a man who strives to be liked, with a chip on his shoulder and a scowl on his face, until his world is flipped on its axis when the pretty young thing, with an irritatingly unwavering smile and the literal sun shinning out her ass, that lives under bill and frank's roof says those five damned words: i don't like you, joel.
warnings. enemies to lovers ig, slow burn (i have intentions to drag this out into several long oneshots that can be read separately), unrequited love (except you will never catch joel miller admitting he feels anything beyond grief, hunger and exhaustion), pining, sunshine!reader, grumpy!joel aka canon joel, kinda perv!joel (if you squint), implied queer!tess, undefined age gap (reader implied late-20s), canon violence, smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, praise, degradation, possessiveness, panty stealing, dirty talk, dubcon ig, hints at ass-play, discussions of a lacklustre sex-life pre-apocalypse). this is set prior to ellie!!
word count. 10k. ( predicted )
hyde’s input. was hoping to finish and post this today in celebration of pedge's bday, but uni assignments got in the way and here i am posting a teaser instead of the full fic :(
nsfw beneath the cut, 18+ only !! ( unedited )
his only saving grace is that he can't see you.
hearing your pretty whines, and hand-muffled moans, and heavy intakes of breath is enough to curse him for the rest of his waking days, condemned to wander the wastelands of earth knowing the noises you make on the brinks of pleasure, with a touch-starved man satiating his hunger for flesh and blood with the sugary sins of your soaked cunt.
burrowing deeper into you, his consciousness rips through the fog of his lust to curse out his perversions as the tip of his hooked nose bumps against the puckered entrance of your ass. it does nothing to stop him tearing his tongue away from your clit, flattened as he drags it over the expanse of your cunt, and over your taint and up the crack of your behind.
"n- ah," you can't deny him while sounding so eager for more, the tip of his tongue now circling your back entrance, mimicking the treatment previously given to your little pearl. "no, don't, not there."
next time, he thinks, we'll try that next time.
sights returned to his previous desires, he works to rip every sigh, and every whine, and every dirty little song you'll grace him with. the sound of whatever record tess has put on in the other room becomes a safety blanket, dousing you both in the warm protection of not being overheard.
and, then, he does it, he makes the ultimate mistake.
his eyes flicker to the left and he finds himself faced with the stove that sits within bill and frank's- and, by an extension he does not enjoy to remember, your- kitchen. there's little that's remarkable about the appliance, just your standard, everyday oven that he's sure you've spent countless hours cooking up those comforting meals he's come to anticipate each time tess tells him they're due a visit.
except, the oven door is made of glass.
glass which now paints the most pornographic masterpiece for no eyes but his own. you, with hands gripping the island's counter like your life depends on it, and the skirt of that goddamn dress he's envied all evening for the way it got to rest against the warmth of your thighs, and your head thrown back, curving your spine in a way that has him wondering about the other ways he'd be able to bend and break you beneath his touch. and then there's him, down on his knees like a devotee laying himself down to worship his goddess, face burrowed in the space between your legs, mouth devouring you from behind with the help of his hands, the same ones that had strangled a man less than a day before and reigned fire down on countless others for years, that now grip the meat of your thighs to pull you back onto him, fucking his tongue into your sopping heat.
the image will haunt him more than any man he's killed.
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