#Trying to pick out lyrics from this was like trying to pick which strand of hair I like most I prefer all of it
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handhourgalleries · 7 months ago
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Put a “∞” in my ask box and I'll shuffle my music player and give you my favorite lyric from the song that comes up.
Paralyzed by Aviators, Lectro Dub
Through the multitude of eyes Taking shape under the skies Aren't you curious to see What kind of monster you've set free?
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peterm4rker · 2 months ago
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¿dónde está la biblioteca? || z.cl
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twenty four. are you shitting me? (written)
🕸🕷✮⋆˙ wc. 1.4k w. curse words! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
you hoped whoever princess was had a shitty day.
it was nothing against her, really (yes it was). but mostly against the fact that the simple knowledge of her existence had ruined the last few days of your life.
after realising that there was no way that chenle had anyone but a girl named like that on his phone, you had spent the last two days dragging about in your apartment, bored out of your mind and a tiny bit sad.
you have grown accustomed to chenle’s presence in your life. his texts, his twitter interactions, the hours upon hours he spent inside of your head. so now that you had decided to take your time and distance from him, everything was oddly quiet. you spent the first two days simply moping around, watching straight seasons of new girl and eating away your feelings with cookie dough ice cream, which oddly enough, you had never liked that much until it began to remind you of chenle.
it was day three on the “forgetting about my feelings for chenle and going back to being best friends with him” agenda, and the outro to the last episode of new girl played on your computer screen. you stared at it with a blank face and teary eyes, feeling hollow once again as there was nothing to fixate on to make you feel better.
as you picked up your phone to call sunwoo and cry to him about everything but chenle (he vetoed his name for the next week), you found your own teary eyed reflection and it was nothing more than pathetic.
since when did you let yourself cry over boys and mope around for days on end?
absolutely not.
you turned off your phone and got out of bed, grabbing a towel and heading straight to the shower. music blared through the alexa on the counter as you let water wash the negativity away, allowing a smile onto your face. you picked a cute outfit and grabbed your bag, putting one airpod on before leaving your house and jumping into ludovica.
the drive to the coffee shop was pretty long, but it didn't bother you. that was what you needed, fresh air and some sun.
you parked your car and happily got out of it, making sure to greet the workers as you approached the counter and ordered your favourite drink and a pastry. once the order was placed you walked to a nearby table, pulling out your computer and your notebook, deciding to get some work done.
the music playing through your headphones drowned out any other thought that could have crossed your mind. the melody tingling your brain and the lyrics sinking into your skin as you tried your hardest to write your report on one of your biggest musical inspirations. 
right then and there, everything seemed to fall into place. the coffee was exactly as you liked it, the pastry was beautifully done and the words seemed to just flow out of you. 
you didn't need chenle. you didn't need anyone.
but of course, if being run over and stranded at an airport had taught you anything, was that these feelings normally didn't last for you. and still, you were a little surprised as you felt a tap on your shoulders, raising your head only to be met by none other than hong seunghan.
he smiled brightly at you, the corner of his eyes brimming with joy as he waved. you took your headphones off quickly, trying to match his smile and hide your surprise. “hey, seunghan!” you greeted happily.
“hey ynnie, what are you doing here? i don't think I’ve seen you here before” he says, but he has, because you used to go to that exact coffee shop whenever you thought he would be there. 
“just getting some work done, you?” you answered.
“I was supposed to meet maru but she couldn't make it” he shrugged, looking at the chair in front of you “is this seat taken?”
“oh, no, go ahead” you nudged towards the chair, allowing him to sit with you. 
a few months ago, hell, even weeks, you would've been elated to be sitting with seunghan out of all people. but as you saw him sit and give you that astonishing smile of his, there was nothing.
because it wasn't his smile that made your stomach erupt into butterflies anymore.
★🎧⋆。 °⋆
conversation easily flowed between you, making you set your work aside completely to focus your attention on him.
“can i tell you something a little embarrassing? i'm only comfortable saying this now because i’m madly in love with my girlfriend” he asked as he calmed down from a fit of laughter you had very proudly caused.
“yeah, of course” you smiled reassuringly, suddenly curious at what his next words would be.
“i used to have a huge crush on you but i was too scared to say anything” he admitted bashfully. your jaw fell open for a couple seconds, before erupting into laughter and hiding your face in your hands “hey! don't laugh at me!” he exclaimed with a soft laugh.
“i'm not laughing at you! its just” you cut yourself off and took your hands away from your face, looking at him once again “i had a massive crush on you for about two years” 
“you're shitting me right now” he deadpanned, and you shook your head as a chuckle escaped your lips. “i was scared for nothing!?” 
“yup, i would've given you everything i've ever owned if i knew” you chuckled.
“thats crazy… When did you stop liking me?” he asked curiously, and you pursed your lips a bit awkwardly.
“maybe around a month ago?” you said, doubt making your voice high pitched. his jaw fell open once again.
“that little ago?” you nodded, sheepish smile still on your lips “then… i'm guessing chenle happened?”
you nodded once again.
“well then, I'm happy it worked out for the both of us” he chuckled as he sipped his drink again.
“i wouldn't say it has worked out for me” you commented, stirring the liquid of your second cup of coffee of the day.
“how so?” he asked, curious once again. who would’ve thought he liked chisme so much?
“well, chenle has no idea i like him and also has a girl, so” you pursed your lips once again.
“huh? chenle doesnt have a girl” seunghan replied, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
“he doesn't?” your eyebrows moved to match his, his confusion contagious.
“nah, he is pretty bitchless” the way he said it made you laugh, rolling your eyes.
“then who is princess?” you asked. you didn't know why you were having this conversation with seunghan out of all people, but if it was giving you good information then it was totally worth it.
“princess?” he thought about it for a second, his furrowed eyebrows falling into a deadpan as he seemed to remember “thats literally jaemin”
“wait, what?” you asked, even more confused than before.
“that's how he has him saved, with a little bow, right?” right.
you had never felt so stupid in your life.
you just had spent two days moping around your room for nothing.
you had spent two days ignoring chenle for nothing.
“i might end it all” you groaned and let your head fall into the crook of your arms, resting on top of the table. seunghan let out a loud laugh.
“no way you thought he had a girlfriend” he laughed “its so obvious that he's–” he cut himself off suddenly, making you look up at him
“hes what?”
“nothing, forget it” he dismissed it. he wasn't going to rat out his boy like that. “i can help you”
“help me with what?” you sat up once again, feeling defeated by your own dumbness.
“chenle, i know him very well, and i think i can help you confess” he said, decided smile adorning his pretty face.
“you really think so?” you asked, a tiny bit of doubt in your voice.
“of course, i'll need some help but i definitely can” he nodded, convincingly.
“then let's do it.”
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previous ★ masterlist ★ next
★ blue's corner ;; SEUNGHAN IS BACK I REPEAT MY MAN IS BACK !!!!!! sooo incredibly grateful that i chose him as the crush because i can post this chapter and introduce their beautiful friendship the day after he was announced back !!!! ★ tag list ;; @yutarot @chenlesfavorite @fullsunbabe @taroddori @morkiee @jovialdelusionbouquet @winwintea @flaminghotyourmom @haechskiss @xuimhao @dudekiss3r @neozon3nha ★ back to the main masterlist ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any content !!
© peterm4rker, 2024
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60scig · 4 months ago
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7/31/24
Chipping the wine red color from my fingernails, I sprinkle the polish onto the seats of his truck. I sigh, kicking off my boots–the summer heat seeping into the car was making my legs sweat against the leather. When my right thumb is chipped clean, I shuffle in my seat to peek my head out the open window.
“Are we stranded?” I ask, crossing my arms over the window sill, resting my chin on top of my hands. My little cowboy friend slams the truck hood shut, lifting his hat from his head to wipe the sweat from his forehead; wavy strands of dark hair sticking to his skin. I grin.
“Nothin’ to worry about.” He tells me in an almost inaudible mumble, walking around to return to the driver’s seat. Upon entering, he immediately notices the red sprinkles dusting the terracotta colored seats. Pulling away from the window, grin still plastered on my lips, I splay out my fingers for him to see my messy nails, only my thumb completely clean. He shakes his head, then begins to explain what was wrong with the truck.
I don’t understand a single word. Nodding my head along, I lean forward to reach into the glove compartment, pulling out our crumpled and worn map, unfolding it in front of my face. At some point, he stopped talking and started the truck. It rumbled violently for a brief second, but calmed down to a point where he pulled us back on the road.
“Where we going?” I ask. When he tells me, I place my finger against the location on the map, trailing it down until I meet our current location.
I keep my window down, letting the hot air blow through my hair, tussling the strands and ruining my neat braid. He’s too silent, so I rummage for a tape, making snide comments about his music taste until I stumble across The Doors.
“You look like Jim Morrison.” I observe, pushing the tape into the cassette player.
“Do I?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road.
I nod. “More handsome, I think.”
A beat of silence. Do I look like Pamela? I don’t ask. I simply admire the toothy chuckle he replies with, watching his fingers readjust on the steering wheel before turning up the music’s volume as loud as I could without it becoming migraine inducing. I let Morrisson’s poetic lyrics drill into my head, pulling down the visor to examine myself in the mirror. Fiery ginger hair now ratted by the wind, milky white skin dusted in freckles–I think I looked like Pamela Courson. Maybe he and I were reincarnated cosmic lovers.
After running my fingers over the texture of my skin, picking at any impurities I felt, I turned back to him. He mouths along to the lyrics of Blue Sunday; maybe he was singing, but I couldn’t hear it over the music’s volume. If it weren’t so loud, you would think that it was his true voice.
I imagine him as my famous rockstar boyfriend for the rest of the ride. Instruments in the trunk, a large van with the rest of the band trailing behind us as we make way to the location of their next show. Maybe one day we too would flee to Paris; I was beginning to grow tired of driving around the Southwest, anyways. So was the truck as it rumbled once more while it rolled into the gas station parking lot, feeling as if it were going to collapse underneath us.
As I stroll through the gas station, basking in the air conditioning, I side eye out the large windows to watch him speaking to an old man with a long greying beard and shiny bald head as they examine the truck once again. The owner, I suppose. While I flip through magazines, trying to decide which one to shove into my bag, I imagine what he’s telling the old man; maybe we’re lovers on our way to Las Vegas, looking to get hitched. Maybe I’m a hitchhiker being escorted to San Francisco. Or, my true hope: he’s the frontman of a band on his way to Los Angeles. There were many excuses to choose from, I thought as I rolled up the latest edition of Vogue and buried it in my bag, but maybe the old man wouldn’t be phased by the truth.
In an area like this, deserted and surrounded by miles of dead shrubbery and exhausting heat, I believed it to be possible that he had come across two suspected killers before.
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in-my-loki-feels · 6 months ago
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🎥(cheating but bad things verse as a whole?) 🤩🟥🥘😁
Thank you for the ask! (From this game.)
🎥 Pick a fic and I'll tell you the song I imagine playing during its movie trailer.
I loved this question! It really made me examine all the songs on my Bad Things playlist. For the 'verse as a whole, I'd pick "You Are Mine" by Mutemath. I almost titled the most recent fic "Objects of Affection" based on the lyrics:
There are objects of affection That can mesmerize the soul There is always one addiction That just cannot be controlled
It's such a chill song, though, so it probably makes terrible trailer music. "Make You Mine" by Madison Beer would be a better beat to cut scenes to and fits just as well. (And thank you very much for introducing it to me!)
🤩 What's the most meaningful comment you've ever received?
Now I'm going to cheat because there isn't one single comment, but instead a lot of the comments I've received on the Bad Things fics that have been some of the most meaningful I've ever received. I've never written for a character like President Loki, where people love him or hate him (or don't give a shit about him), and having readers say that my fic(s) made them actually care about him has been huge. That, and hearing that I managed to create a fully fleshed out being, with complexity and depth, from someone we saw for maybe 2 minutes. If there's a better way to make me feel accomplished in my writing, I don't know it. I'm not joking when I say that, mentally, I'm taking those comments and clutching them to my chest. <3
🟥 How long do you spend in edits?
Once I complete a first draft, I usually do at least 2-3 passes through it, which probably takes a week if I'm able to work on it a little each day. After that, I always try to leave it alone for at least a day before I come back for the final check. I've learned from experience that if I just keep poking at it without taking that break, I'll miss things and also get frustrated with the fic as a whole.
🥘 What wip are you most excited about?
I'm usually most excited about whatever I'm currently working on (which is why I'm writing that) but right now I'm between two wips. I was really excited about the appropriately named Jet Ski wip but then I typed a sentence that threw me for such a loop I had to abandon it and move on to the Stranded In Asgard wip.
Actually, the shorter (and better) answer is: whichever Bad Things 'verse fic is next. <3
😁 What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?
Definitely comments! I just love hearing what readers think about my fics and the more detail the better. It also usually gives me a chance to talk more about the characters/story, which I'm always eager to do. I'd place Tumblr asks second for that reason, though I think they're less frequent. (I liked your point about notes in bookmarks but my fics almost always have bookmarks without notes, so I didn't place them higher on this list.)
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girlsagaiinstgod · 1 year ago
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“Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.”
i saw joanna smith coming through the trees. the thirty-two year old was fleeing from manchester, uk when they came across novac, and have sought salvation within the motel of purgatory. joey has been in town for nine months and has been assigned as a groundskeeper to keep society running smoothly. no matter what, they will find something to fight for.
basic information
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full name: joanna halley smith
nicknames: joey (preferred), jo (okay), annie (don't)
birthdate & place: 25 february 1991 — manchester, england, uk (age 32)
gender: cis woman (she/her)
orientations: homosexual, homoromantic
relationship status: single
former occupation: history student at the university of manchester
current occupation: groundskeeper
personality aesthetics: renaissance artwork / a notebook collating all the knowledge she has that may have been lost / crying for people you've never met / reading poetry / picking up things for those you love ' just in case ' / tangled headphone wires, a battery stockpile + a walkman from the 2000s / the ginger spice poster on the wall of her childhood bedroom / hands covered in flour / always feeling like your dreams are beyond you always smiling even when you don't feel like it, even when no one believes you, even when it's more like a grimace / peach flavouring / constant sleep debt / would've, could've, should've / never learning to ride a bicycle / the sound of a kettle boiling / anger buried so deep you have to dig it out / only raising your voice in others' defence / burying your own needs with the body of who you once were / feeling every year as it goes by / feeling your optimism slip like water through your hands
key traits: passionate / esoteric / artistic / self-sacrificing / perfectionistic / introspective / routine-oriented / ambivert / sentimental / philosophical / stubborn
conditions: autism ( undiagnosed )
meyers-briggs type indicator: infj ( the advocate )
astrological big six: pisces sun / cancer moon / virgo rising / pisces mercury / aries venus / gemini mars
theme song: prayer factory by florence + the machine
key lyric: ' i listen to music from 2006 and feel kind of sick '
basic bio
the smith parents were rarely home. such is the life in a working city, trying to support four children. joanna — the eldest of the family — was thus essentially tasked with the upbringing of her younger siblings, beginning a tendency to ignore her own needs and prioritise those of others that became progressively more maladaptive: she's never really made it out of that. she still doesn't know that she's allowed to.
until the age of twenty-one, she'd never truly pursued anything for her own sake. she made do with books borrowed from libraries, mostly concerning the renaissance, a mp3 player, and the great resource of the internet. she did her best by the younger siblings, not always perfect — a matter about which she carries a lot of self-directed anger. in 2012, she finally applied to study history at the university of manchester. she'd wanted to do so for some time, but it'd never worked out between trying to support her siblings and the family business.
she'd recently finished her first year when her youngest brother — who she'd raised, considerably, even by comparison to the middle siblings — was missing, having taken off on a school. file under things in joanna smith's guilt book. she set off for america to try and find jasper, concerned for him beyond words. and then: the outbreak hit, stranding her in america, leaving her to search for him. this had no success for a long time, increasingly separated from people as the situation worsened worldwide and in places unfamiliar with. but she never stopped searching america high and low for not only jasper but perhaps her other siblings if they'd had similar ideas, hoping she'd at least get closure if not reunion.
eight months ago, on christmas day, joanna and her travelling companion chose to stop in new mexico and pause her tireless journey across america. at least for a few days, if not longer. yet novac proved to have precisely what she was looking for: her siblings.
( it'll take her a long time to rationalise the haunting feeling she abandoned them, even unintentionally, and even longer to speak such a sentiment out loud. )
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kckenobi · 2 years ago
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fic writer interview
Thanks for the tag @katierosefun! Took me a minute to finish this and post but.....
Name/nickname: kasey!
Fandoms: I feel like I tend to be on the fringes of fandom for most media lol, with Star Wars being the only one I've really been active in. But I guess the ones floating around in my brain most often are bly manor/hill house and Star Trek tng?
Two shots? I don't actually know if I have any, except if you count Room to Grow and A Moment and A Memory which were connected (completely forgot the titles of both of those for a sec, wow).
Most-popular multi-chapter fic: as far as subscriptions and kudos it's probably bloodlines, my fic about Dooku, Obi-Wan and Anakin getting stranded together. But more recently Rhapsody and Blue, my orchestra au, has gotten some lovely attention, which is nice bc that one's definitely closer to my heart!
Actual worst part of writing: "oh god that's a huge plot hole"
How you choose your titles: I usually try first for a theme from the fic that can be summed up in a word or two, but after that I pick from song lyrics or poems lol
Do you outline? Yes, usually! Or I at least come up with a plan. I have to outline for longer projects or I'll forget where I was going and run out of steam. For shorter ones, I usually try to at least have a beginning, middle, and end thought out from the beginning, even if they're not fleshed put! Doing that just keeps me from hitting a wall and fizzling out when I get stuck, bc I at least know what's supposed to come next.
Ideas you probably won't get around to, but wouldn't it be nice: hmm, I like to think I'll eventually get around to everything I want to? But there's definitely a handful of ideas I've started only to put them on the back burner—I was thinking about a sequel to Rhapsody in Blue for a while, but i just had a hard time deciding what the conflict in that story would be since Palpatine is dead lol. But I'm not saying I won't get to it, because I still might!
Callouts @ me: how—many times—can you put an em-dash in one paragraph—also you write about the same themes over and over again—
Best writing traits: Hmm, I think one of the things I've gotten good at over the years is structuring a scene/structuring a longer plot. It's something I think was hard to learn, like as far as pacing and the balance between dialogue and action, and how to weave multiple plot lines into something that feels cohesive. Reading my old writing vs recent stuff, that's just been something I've noticed!
Spicy tangential opinion: the whole "only queer people can write queer stories" idea hurts people who are closeted or questioning more than it protects anyone, and no one owes you any piece of information about their identity to justify their writing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
tags: @calltomuster @meantforinfinitesadness @pandora15 @giggles-and-freckles @indigostars @tessiete
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notanotherinfjblog · 2 years ago
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So music style wise would you be a fan of the Bobs Dylan and Marley? Based on them probably being istps who write about istp stuff.
I agree on them both being ISTPs, but music taste is a funny thing. You can find me on a very broad spectrum ranging from folk to punk rock, but there's one vital thing that all the music within this spectrum must have in common in order for me to like it: the voice has to be the most prominent thing while the instrumental part must be made in a way that I can melt it into one thing in my brain, no matter how many instruments are played simultaneously. If I can pick instruments apart plus listening to a voice, my brain short-circuits. It's sensory overload, my inferior Se cannot compute. When I can focus on one instrument individually, then I start to hear every component of the song individually and it doesn't sound like music anymore and instead feels more like standing in the middle of the highway and every individual strand of music is a car racing past me and I have to try not to get killed by either of them. I remember how back in high school, our teacher once made us listen to some Richard Wagner opera, which is by design very chaotic, and it felt like torture. It was like someone was spoon-feeding me an entire meal of sensory overload and I had to eat up.
Returning to Bob Dylan and Bob Marley. You are right, lyrics-wise they are certainly for me, but the instrumental parts of their music don't melt, so listening becomes really quite effortful, which is a shame because I really could get into Bob Dylan's music especially.
But low Se really is quite funny on that front. I am so used to just filtering out so much sensory information. For instance: I only consciously notice music in films when there are lyrics or when it's a scene where all other sounds from the movie itself are muted so that the music is literally the only thing you hear. Otherwise my brain just filters it out as random noise. I once watched an audio commentary of a show that I've watched several dozen times, so you'd think I'd be familiar with every little detail of it, and the commentators were like "oh it's that music theme again! It always pops up in romantic settings, it's so funny they'd use that here." I had never even noticed that there was any music at all, but now that I heard it, it was completely new and unfamiliar to me. I had just blocked it out dozens and dozens of times.
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notnctu · 4 years ago
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backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club
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━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series
genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst  wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi​​​ ; @darkneogotmyback​​​ ; @im-lame-irl​​​ ; @p-mini​​​ ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck​​​ ; @saniahmichael​​ ; @jaehy9ngs​​​ ; @danyxthirstae01​​​ ; @jaehyunoos​​​ ; @pikijaemin​​​ ; @suhweo​​​ ; @yunoyeol​​​ ; @lanadreamie​​​ ; @ta3ilmoon​​​ ; 
a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):
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While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.
Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.
Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.
But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.
“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.
“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.
You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.
“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.
Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”
His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.
The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.
But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.
When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”
“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.
“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.
However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”
Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.
“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”
“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.
He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”
Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”
“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”
“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.
“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”
You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”
“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.
“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.
Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.
Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.
Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?
Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.
“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?
Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.
Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”
Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.
“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”
The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.
But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.
“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.
“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”
The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.
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Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.
“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.
“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.
Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.
Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.
You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.
Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.
You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.
“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating. 
“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.
His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.
You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.
“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.
“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”
You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”
Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.
One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.
“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”
Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.
The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.
He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.
While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.
“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.
“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.
“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.
“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.
“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.
“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.
The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.
Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.
But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.
No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.
This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”
“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.
“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.
“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.
“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”
“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.
“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”
It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart. 
Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.
In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.
“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.
“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.
“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?
“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.
“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.
“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.
“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.
“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”
“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”
“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.
You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.
Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well. 
However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.
“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.
“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.
And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.
“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.
“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.
His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.
Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”
“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.
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“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.
The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.
He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.
The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.
“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.
Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”
“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.
“No, you called me honey.”
Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”
Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.
This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.
“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.
Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”
The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.
“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.
“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”
Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.
Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”
Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.
“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.
“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.
“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.
“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.
“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”
“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.
He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.
“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.
“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.
“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.
It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.
“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”
“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.
“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.
Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.
Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.
But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.
“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.
“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.
“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.
“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.
“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.
Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.
Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”
“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.
“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.
“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.
Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.
“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”
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During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.
“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.
Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”
Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”
You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.
It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.
“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.
“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.
But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.
Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.
Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.
The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.
Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”
He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.
But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.
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You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.
Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.
His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”
“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.
Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”
You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.
“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”
He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.
“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”
“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.
His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.
“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.
“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”
“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”
Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.
Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”
All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”
“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.
“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.
“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.
“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.
“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.
“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.
He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.
He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.
You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.
He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.
“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.
“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.  
“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.
“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.
Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.
It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you. 
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nebulous-bitch · 2 years ago
Text
It's Tactless, It's A Test
Word Count: 823
a/n: Yes that is a Maya Hawke lyric for the title, so what? Anyway, this is my first ever Ronance fic so I hope I did them justice! Just let me know if you want to be tagged in any future things similar to this
----
“You’ve caught me at a really bad time.”
Nancy winces, watching as Robin attempts to untangle herself from what appears to be four separate phone cords which have somehow gotten wrapped around her torso and various appendages.
“Uh… It certainly looks like it,” she comments. “How did you even end up in this situation?”
Robin chuckles nervously, the look on her face telling Nancy that she’s not going to like the explanation that’s about to come out of her mouth. She’s grown accustomed to Robin’s clumsy antics through the few months that they’ve now been friends for, and she shouldn’t have been so surprised to find Robin in such a ridiculous position when she came down to the video store to spend the afternoon hanging out.
“Um, well,” Robin begins sheepishly, “one of the phones started ringing so I picked it up but then the next minute another one rang as well, so I put the first customer on hold and picked up that one, because, you know, customer service and potential customers and then I swear I was just finishing with that one when the next one rang and well…” She shrugs and gestures down at herself and the absolute entanglement that she is currently in. She grins, shrugging remorsefully.
Nancy sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“And where was Steve while you were running around and tying yourself in knots like an idiot?” she questions tiredly.
“Oh he’s on break,” Robin says innocently. “Guess it’s up to you to save me from the very dangerous mess that I’m in here, Nance,” she dramatically declares, grinning and batting her eyelashes like a moron.
Nancy rolls her eyes, giggling at her antics. 
“Alright drama queen,” she says. “If I really do have to.”
Robin presses a hand to her chest and feigns dramatic offence. Nancy gives her a look, walking around the side of the front desk to where Robin is standing, taking stock of the damage.
“What happened to all the callers?” she asks.
“Oh, they probably all hung up on me ages ago,” Robin says.
“How long have you been standing here?” Nancy asks incredulously.
“Uhhh… half an hour, give or take?” Robin admits, wincing.
Nancy sighs deeply. This girl.
She gets to work systematically detangling the cords from Robin’s body, after prohibiting her from trying to help since all of her efforts just seem to make the situation twice as bad.
She steps up into Robin’s space to pull one of the cables over her head, fingers brushing the skin of her neck. Her heart stutters when she realises how close they’re standing, tilting her head up a little to look at Robin properly.
Robin takes a deep breath and reaches out, fingers brushing the inside of Nancy’s wrist and moving to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. All the air leaves Nancy’s lungs in a quiet rush and she finds herself swaying slightly forward towards the heat she can feel radiating off Robin, eyes flicking unconsciously down towards her mouth. Her eyes slide closed and she’s milimetres away from closing the gap between them and doing something reckless like kissing Robin the way she’s wanted to from the moment they met when a voice rings out harsh and loud through the store, startling them both and rudely shattering the moment.
“Hey Robin, have you seen this new order we got the other day? They’ve got Top Gun in here!” Steve calls, poking his head around the corner and looking confusedly from Nancy to Robin, both blushing and still standing closer than would be considered platonically acceptable. “Oh!” he says, oblivious to what had been about to happen between the two of them only seconds before. “I didn’t know you were gonna be stopping by this afternoon, Nance.”
“Uh, yeah,” Nancy says, trying to clear her head. “I just came down to say hi and found Robin here like this,” she says, pointing at the still half-tangled mess that is Robin.
Steve rolls his eyes, trudging over to help, and together they manage to completely free Robin from her phone cord-induced prison, this time without any almost-kisses.
Nancy’s head is still spinning. She hadn’t even realised that she felt that way about Robin. Surely it was just a fluke? But no, she had definitely wanted to kiss the other girl. She looks over at Robin, who shoots her an uncertain smile.
“Um,” she says awkwardly, “I should probably get going. Uh, Robin, you should call me later. We should, um, talk.” It comes out slightly strangled, but she hopes that Robin gets what she’s trying to say.
She exits the shop quickly, hearing the bell jingle on the way out.
“What was that?” she heard Steve ask, bewildered, just before the door closed behind her.
“I don’t know,” Robin replied, watching Nancy walk back away up the street. “But I think it might have been something.”
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shiftingparadise · 2 years ago
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Hey honey! I read your stories inspired by songs and I loved them all, you are so talented. That said I would like to know if I could get an imagine/oneshot nsfw Levi x fem! reader (cannonverse) inspired by lady marmalade by moulin rouge, please?(feel free to ignore it)
Aww, you made me so happy. Thank you so much for your kind words 🥺🤍.
I really hope you like this one as well. I decided to base the story a little bit more on the ✨ vibe ✨ of the song instead of the lyrics (like I usually do). I still hope you like it though 🥺.
Hope everyone's having a great day. Enjoy reading 🤍✨
Word count: 3777
‘You’re drunk’, you smirked at one of the men sitting behind the bar, refilling his cup, nonetheless. ‘Ai, I’m drunk’, he replied, eyes fixed on your plump lips, ‘Can’t expect me to leave when a pretty thing like you is standing behind the bar’. ‘You say that to every girl’, you smiled, filling up another cup. 
You scanned the room, letting out a sigh. It was a busy night, more busy than usual - as expected when the Corps returned from another mission. The bar was filled with broken hearts paired with their broken bodies. The little time the surviving soldiers got off when they returned from a mission, they often spend trying to drink away their sorrows. 
‘Huh?’, your cheeks immediately reddened at the sight of the unfamiliar man sitting in the corner at a table, alone. His mysterious aura coupled with the cold expression (which you knew was probably a front to hide his pain) drew you to him. 
‘Hey sweetheart, another’, the man in front of you could barely hold his cup in the air. ‘Who’s that?’, you let your arms rest on the counter, knowing that if you showed just enough cleavage the man would tell you everything you wanted to know. 
‘Men are so predictable’, you tried not to roll your eyes when he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was looking at your breasts. 
‘Captain?’, you stood straight again, the man now letting out a groan of dissatisfaction, ‘Never seen him here before’. ‘Doesn’t come out much, or so I heard… Lost a lot of folks, like everyone in the Corps’. ‘All the more reasons he needs a drink, right?’. 
You placed a strand of hair behind your ear, hoping your cheeks returned to their original color again.
‘On the house’, you said softly, placing the cup on the table he was sitting on. 
‘Didn’t ask for it’. 
His blunt answer caught you off guard. No other man ever reacted bluntly towards you. 
‘Want something else?’, you ignored his tone and spoke in the kindest way you possibly could. ‘Will you leave me alone if I take this?’, the dark-haired man grabbed the cup, eyes never looking up from the table he was sitting on. 
‘Sorry sir’, you made a quick bow, ‘I didn’t mean to bother you’. 
You should’ve known that the Captain of the Corps has higher standards than some girl that works in a bar. You were used to the remarks, the preying eyes, especially those of the military police. Scumbags. The men of the Corps were different, they never groped on your body, never made any vulgar comments… 
‘Tch’. 
You took that as your sign to leave. He made it more than obvious he didn’t want company.
---
‘Another one?’, your voice sounded like honey to the man whose heart was already racing. ‘Please’. 
Finally, a shy one. Those were the ones you liked; quiet, kind, hands neatly placed on the table. 
‘Just a minute’, you let your hand graze over the boy’s fingertips when you picked up his cup, slowly walking back to the bar.  
You loved this. The blushing cheeks of the boy, the way he stuttered when he tried to talk to you. Every nervous sound, giggle… All things that stroked your ego. 
‘He’s looking at you’, Mia’s elbow gently bumped into your ribs. ‘Who?’, you frowned at your colleague. ‘That Captain… Has been staring at you for the last hour’. ‘Did you ask if he wanted to drink something?’. 
The guilty smile on her face told you she didn’t. 
‘Seriously Mia? He’s probably dying from thirst. You know how hot it is in here’. 
You shook your head, ignoring her excuses while walking towards him again. 
‘Can I get you something?’, your hands resting on the front of your skirt, a sweet smile on your face - despite the rejection you earlier faced. ‘Another one’. ‘Coming right up sir’, you picked up the cup, ignoring the fact he still didn’t look at you.
‘H-hey me too’, ‘Another one princess’.
You ignored the ‘orders’ of the other customers. Mia was probably getting them anyway. 
‘Thank you’, his hand immediately wrapped around the cup. ‘No problem, sir’, you made your way back to the bar. 
‘Wait’. 
‘Sorry, can I get you anything else?’. ‘Your name’. 
You let out a chuckle. It was obvious that he had never come here before. Every man in this bar knew your name. 
‘Y/N, sir;’. ‘Suits you’. ‘A-and yours?’. ‘Levi’. 
Levi? You could swear that name rang a bell. 
‘Levi?’, you looked up at the ceiling, ‘Can I ask you something?’. 
‘Hm’, his eyes still fixed on his hands. 
‘Why don’t you look at me?’. 
‘H-huh?’, Levi’s eyes flew open at how straightforward you were. 
‘Sorry, I went too far’, you smirked, knowing you threw him off guard, ‘Well, if there’s anything you need, be sure to let me know’. 
--- 
‘Only a couple customers left, you can go home’. ‘Great, I’m so tired’, Mia rubbed her eyes, ‘Don’t stay up too late’. ‘Hm?’, you frowned at her remark. ‘He’s still here, right? It’s obvious he wants to… You know’. Shut up Mia!’, you giggled, trying to keep your voice down. ‘Don’t worry, just tell me everything tomorrow’. You shook your head, a smile resting on your face, ‘Maybe’.
You started cleaning some tables while the last customers left, waiving Mia goodbye. Of course she wouldn’t leave without giggling and nodding her head towards the Captain. ‘So subtle, as usual’, eyes rolling in disbelief.  
‘Levi? I mean sir’, you nervously shuffled to the table he was still sitting on, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m tired so I’ll be heading upstairs’. ‘3 in the morning already?’, Levi sighed while rubbing his forehead, ‘Sorry I don’t usually drink, lost track of time’. 
Drink? He ordered 5 glasses of wine, which he spread throughout the night. Your usual customer drank 3 times as much. 
‘Hm, your cheeks do seem a bit red’, you smiled, gently stroking the back of your finger over his cherry red skin. 
‘Tch’, Levi slowly got up, ignoring the way your touch made his heart flutter. ‘H-hey careful’, you quickly placed your arms around his back when you saw his legs giving up. ‘You’re really drunk, aren’t you?’. ‘Told you… I usually don’t drink’. 
Levi didn’t want to take advantage of you like this, to fool you… But he wasn’t going to ask for your touch, to beg for it like all the other men. He wasn’t drunk, not in the slightest. He heard all the stories of the others, saying how pretty you were, and they weren’t wrong. Levi longed for a woman’s touch, for another body against his. It’d been so long, probably years. He wanted to forget his problems just for one night, and you were the key. 
‘You can’t walk home like this’, empathy filled up your heart when you saw him stumble towards the door. ‘Don’t worry-‘, ‘Don’t be silly, you can sleep upstairs. I’ve got a guest room, it’s no trouble’. 
After a few half-hearted rejections, you managed to convince the handsome stranger. Leading him upstairs, you told him goodnight and went to your own room. 
‘Wonder if I need to bring him a bucket, if he needs to throw up…’, you sighed to yourself while sitting in front of your mirror, taking off the little make-up you wore. 
‘Huh?’, your head flew to the door when you heard a muffled scratch. After listening for a moment, you decided it was probably your imagination. After all, you were tired, so tired. 
He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t. He never planned on peeking through your keyhole, he wasn’t that kind of man. He would usually court a woman… at least take her to dinner, but he couldn’t wait. He needed to see you, to see your body. 
You let your hair fall on your shoulders, softly massaging your scalp before slipping out of your work clothes. ‘So hot’, you slipped into an old shirt, quickly opening a window. You needed to feel the night's cold air against your flushed cheeks. 
Levi had to gather every ounce of willpower not to touch himself when he saw you undress, when he saw your cute ass bending over the windowsill, letting your lungs fill themselves with some fresh air. 
You laid down in bed, loneliness rushing over you. ‘Should I? I could go see him…’, you debated out loud, legs rubbing over each other. You wanted him, you ached for him. ‘N-no… Wouldn’t be very ladylike’, you came to your conclusion. A naughty smirk on your face, ‘Wonder if he sleeps with a lot of women…’. 
Without even noticing, your hand started moving towards the cute, white panties you were wearing. Head filled with thoughts of him laying underneath you, the room filled with muffled, lewd noise... 
‘S-she’ll be the death of me’, Levi’s breath hitched when he saw you touching yourself, the tip of your thumb between your teeth, softly moaning his name… Should he enter? Pretend he needs something? No… No, that would be too intrusive. He could touch himself, right? You were touching yourself too… Yes, he can… He needs to. 
‘H-huh?’, you froze when you could hear a quiet grunt. This wasn’t your imagination, you were sure of it. ‘S-someone there?’, you quickly covered yourself underneath your sheets. 
‘Mia?’. 
‘Fuck’, Levi quickly zipped his pants, almost running to his room.
‘Levi?’, you leaned against the door frame, cheeks blushing. You knew he’d been watching; you could see it in the way he wanted to run away in shame. ‘This is a first’, you smirked, ‘Did you at least enjoy the show?’. 
You weren’t mad? You weren’t creeped out? Maybe if he played his cards right… 
‘You knew I was watching?’, ‘No’. ‘You must be desperate, moaning my name like that’, Levi let his cold gaze wander over your body… ‘Tch’, his gaze was glued to the hand that was still in your panties, the back of your hand moving slowly up and down. ‘What? You like watching me, don’t you?’. 
Levi could feel the tip of his member pressing against his boxers. No other girl had ever driven him as crazy as you did. 
‘You can come in, you know?’, you smiled while closing your eyes, trying to repress the knot that started to form in your stomach. You pulled your hand out of your panties, looking into his cold eyes, ‘Want a taste?’. ‘More than a taste’. He sounded starved, starved for your touch. 
You signaled him to come closer,quickly closing your door once he was inside. God, you loved how obedient he was, how eager. He was like a little puppy, waiting for his treat – you. 
 ‘So eager’, you ghosted over his lips before walking towards your bed. ‘Mind if I finish?’, you smirked, spreading your legs, so he could see all of you. 
This was it, he was going to come undone right here, spilling his seed all in his boxers. You were something else; with your innocent, sweet smile, but the look in your eyes was everything except innocent. He had to take control, to mark you as his. 
Levi clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disagreement, ‘You’ll finish when I tell you too’. ‘Excuse me?’, you chuckled at his daring behavior. ‘You heard me’, Levi pulled off his shirt, letting his pants drop to the ground next, ‘You put up a show for every guy, right? Always picking out the shy, submissive ones…’. 
You frowned, curious to see where this would lead to. This was a first, that’s for sure. 
‘Don’t look so confused. You thought I was like them? Because I’m quiet?’. ‘Are you going to kiss me or not?’, you pretended to yawn, one hand still in your panties, ‘Or do you prefer to watch me in the shadows?’.
‘Tch’, Levi slowly crawled on top of you, pulling your wrist out of your underwear along the way, ‘You’re a brat’. ‘Do something about it’, you let the tip of your tongue graze over his soft lips, ‘You’re not drunk at all, aren’t you?’. Levi widened his eyes, ‘What gave me away?’. ‘Your lips… They don’t have a red stain nor a sour, bitter taste on them’. 
You couldn’t believe this. Why didn’t he just try and flirt with you? Was this his plan all along? Using your kindness to get what he wanted? 
‘Hm, sorry’, he mumbled against the soft skin of your neck, leaving a mark behind. ‘Y-you’re a pervert’. ‘Maybe’. 
He wasn’t a pervert, he never did anything like this, but you made him desperate. He knew cheesy compliments and subtle touches wouldn’t get him far. You liked this; he knew it. You liked the idea of being watched, of being worth it for someone to chase you like this. 
Levi grunted when he felt your free hand rubbing over the thin fabric of his boxers. ‘Just take me already, you’re boring me’. Your voice sounded so smooth, so seductive against his earlobes… He was going to lose all reservations. 
‘Enough’, Levi grabbed both of your wrists while sitting up straight, pulling you closer to him, ‘Bored, huh? Maybe you’ll be less bored when I put you to work’. 
‘H-hey!’, you tried to protest when he guided you to the edge of the bed, making sure your nose was pressed against his boxers.
‘Well? Thought you were bored?’, an evil smirk on his face. You smirked,pulling his boxers down, ‘Are you sure you want me to do this?’. 
Levi tried to understand what you meant, but his thoughts were cut short when he felt your tongue licking the tip of his member; like a kitten would drink his milk – looking so cute and innocent. 
‘S-shit’, Levi hissed when he could feel your perfect lips wrapping around him. 
You took him so well, so good. You worked magic with that cute tongue of yours, his mind clouded in pleasure. 
‘Want me to let you finish?’, you wiped your mouth, letting your hands do some work. ‘P-please’, a reluctant whimper left his lips. ‘You haven’t done anything for me though…’, you let go of his member, earning a disappointed grunt from him. ‘I’ll make you feel good after’, Levi tried to push your head closer again, feeling so impatient. ‘Promise?’, you placed a soft kiss on his tip. ‘Hm, promise’. 
You wished he could see how cute he looked when he was so desperate for your touch. The big, though Captain Levi… Nothing but a moaning mess under your touch. 
‘C-coming’, he grunted, trying to pull away, but you made sure his hips kept in place. You wanted to taste him, more than anything. 
‘Sorry’, a guilty look in his eyes while you swallowed the bitter taste away. ‘Sorry?’, you chuckled, ‘Don’t act so innocent… You liked it’. 
Levi couldn’t believe it when you took off your shirt already. 
‘What? It’s my turn now, isn’t it?’, ‘B-but’, ‘Thought we had a deal?’. 
5 minutes weren’t too much to ask, right? He just needed to come down from his high. 
‘Fine’, you rolled your eyes, ‘I’ll finish myself’. ‘No’, a firm grip met your hand, ‘I’ll take care of you’. 
Levi crawled on top of you, trying to swallow away the tired feeling that rushed over him. He couldn’t help it, he wasn’t used to this; to come undone, to let all his inhibitions go. 
‘Poor thing’, you pouted, stroking through his dark hair when you noticed how tired he was, ‘Guess I’ll need to take care of you again, huh?’. 
You giggled when you felt him shaking his head against the crook of your neck. He was trying to get over his tiredness, he really was. 
‘Hey don’t worry’, you said sweetly, ‘Lay down, it’s okay’. 
And he did, within an instant. ‘Just 5 minutes’, he thought, ‘That’s all I need’. 
‘Huh?’, Levi widened his eyes, grabbing your waist when he felt you crawling on top of him. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll do the work’, you whispered in his ear, guiding his hands to your breasts. 
It didn’t take long before you could feel him getting hard again when you placed love drunk kisses against his neck, now and then softly biting in his soft skin. His low grunts send you over the edge.
‘Feels like you’re ready’, you teased him, letting his tip glide in and out of your entrance. ‘Y-Y/N’, Levi swallowed away your name. He was ready, more than ready. 
‘Hm’, you moaned softly, closing your eyes in pleasure once you could feel him inside you. He felt good, too good. This wasn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before. ‘F-fuck’, Levi dug his nails into your thighs, guiding you along the pace he preferred; slow, passionate. 
Levi felt lost when he looked at you. The way your head was tilted towards the ceiling, your eyes closed in pleasure, biting down so cutely on your bottom lip… Not to mention the way your breasts looked so divine in the dim light over your room, a drop of sweat gliding in between them…
‘You’re beautiful’, ‘Huh?’, your eyes flew open, hands pressed against his toned chest. ‘You’re nothing short of divine’, ‘S-shut up’, you tried to hide your red cheeks by looking down. ‘Look at me’, Levi’s placed his thumb underneath your chin, forcing you to look at him, ‘Want to see your expression when I make you come’. 
This wasn’t how you were supposed to feel. You weren’t supposed to feel a warm sensation inside your chest, or butterflies in your stomach. 
‘T-touch me, please’, you grabbed his hand, guiding it towards the sensitive nob. 
God, Levi hated himself for forgetting to do so himself. How could he forget something like that? He wanted you to feel good, to drive you crazy, but this was something rare for him. He rarely sought the warmth of a woman’s body. 
‘Hmpf’, you swallowed away a moan when you felt his digits rubbing against your nub, ‘D-don’t stop, please’. ‘Don’t worry, I promised I would make you feel good’, he pressed himself away from the mattress with one elbow, eager to kiss your breasts. ‘Fuck’, you could feel your mind getting foggy, a knot in your stomach, ‘C-coming’. ‘Good girl’, Levi mumbled against your nipple, letting his tongue swirl around it, ‘Want to feel y-‘. 
His sentence was cut short when he could feel the sensation of you clenching around him.
‘Shit’, Levi let his head rest against your chest, trying his best not to spill his seed inside you. 
When he noticed you slowed down, when you stopped shaking, Levi grabbed your waist and swiftly pinned you down underneath him. He was done with going slow, he needed to fuck you dumb, needed to feel you tighten around him once more. 
‘L-levi’, you moaned when you could feel him picking up the pace. ‘Don’t talk, unless you want to ask me to come’. 
You widened your eyes, shocked by his remark. It seemed as if he became someone else, with the way he held your wrists against your chest, his eyes fixed on the way he thrust inside you. 
‘Want you to come with me’, his eyes glided towards your breasts, his fingers digging into their soft flesh. ‘C-can’t’, you shook your head, ‘Oh you can’. Levi smirked when he placed his thumb on your sensitive spot, ‘Be a good girl for me, okay?’. You jolted when you felt his digit rubbing against your nub. 
He was right, you could come again, and it didn’t take long for you to do so. 
‘C-can’t pull out, sorry’. 
He wasn’t sorry, you could see it in his devilish grin. He wanted to paint your velvety walls white, to come undone inside you while you were clenching around him. 
‘Fuck’, Levi let himself fall on top of you, head nestled against your shoulder. You tried to catch your breath, to slow down your heart rate. 
‘Levi?’, you frowned once you could hear his breathing slow down, your hand softly caressing his back; the other placed in his hair. ‘Hm’, he answered lazily, ‘S-so tired, sorry’. 
You felt strange. This was normally the moment the man you’d brought to your room would leave, disappear. 
‘I-it’s okay’, an insecure smile on your face before you wrapped your arms around his neck, massaging his scalp, ‘You can stay if you want’. ‘You thought I was going to leave?’, Levi turned his head, his lips now grazing over your cheek, ‘The night isn’t over, just need 5 minutes’. 
You knew he was joking, but you didn’t mind. You were pretty worn out yourself, and you kind of loved the feeling of him falling asleep on top of you. 
---
‘And? Tell me eve-ry-thing!!!’, Mia chanted while she hung up her coat the next morning, ‘Did you sleep with him? Was it good? It must have been, he’s so handsome!!!’. 
You cleared your throat; it was obvious she didn’t care to look around the room before she entered. 
‘Come on, tell me already-‘. 
You could see her eyes widen, cheeks blushing in embarrassment when she saw Levi sitting at the bar, drinking some tea.
‘Want some breakfast?’, you smirked at your friend. She quickly shook her head before she grabbed her coat again, and ran out of the room. 
‘You didn’t answer her question’, Levi looked coldly at you before taking a sip from his tea. ‘Meh’, you shrugged your shoulders, ‘Could’ve been better’. 
Levi nearly choked on his tea, insecurities already washing over him.
‘Don’t worry handsome, I was just joking’, you giggled while stroking through his hair, elbows resting on the counter, ‘Hope I’ll be seeing you here more often’. You let your nose brush against his, lips ghosting over his, ‘Wouldn’t mind if you spend the night more often’. 
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jackrrabbit · 4 years ago
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Clean /// Sakusa x f!Reader (18+)
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Summary: [College dorm AU] Sakusa can’t stop thinking about you in the shower.
A/N: Indirectly inspired by @seita​ and @bakatenshii​, who made me think about soap and Sakusa’s cum in conjunction…thanks guys :P
Tags/warnings: masturbation, mild cleanliness fetish if that’s a thing?, Sakusa wants you and is in deep denial about it
It’s not like he started doing it on purpose. Not at first.
On weekdays, you wake up at the same time that Sakusa gets back from the gym: 7 AM exactly. He timed it that way because they clean the dorm bathrooms at 6:30—they’re still revolting, but they can’t be as bad as the ones at the gym. He can avoid touching the stall walls if he has to, and…he has to. 7 is the perfect time—even the students with 8 AM class can’t be fucked to wake up that early, so he gets the row of mirrors and stalls to himself.
Except for you.
Your room is right next to the stairwell; when Sakusa jogs up the stairs (two at a time, blood still pumping from his workout even though the sweat is already cooling on his back) he can hear your alarm through the thin wall. Always 7 on the dot: your phone blares an obnoxiously loud ringtone, there’s a muffled protest from you and your roommate curses at you to turn that shit off, it’s seven fucking AM. By the time he’s standing at the bathroom sink brushing his teeth, you’re usually pushing through the door in your pajamas, holding your towel in one hand and rubbing your puffy eyes with the other.
So it’s not like Sakusa plans this. It’s a coincidence. Mostly.
“G’morning…Kiyoomi.” You interrupt yourself with a yawn in the middle of the sentence. Your voice sounds heavy with exhaustion and he wonders, not for the first time, why you bother waking up so early. You don’t seem like a morning person.
The toothbrush is still in Sakusa’s mouth, so he just nods to greet you. You smile sleepily and then bend down to reach your bathroom locker, and—fuck, fuck, you’re wearing the shorts again, the threadbare cotton ones you wear whenever the weather gets a little warmer. They’re thin (so thin he can see the high cut of your panties underneath when they’re stretched over your ass, not that he’s looking), and they’re short.
Do you know how much you’re showing off when you bend over like that to rummage through your locker? You’re basically showing your ass off, the smooth muscle of your thighs rising up into those perfect cheeks, and between them, the dingy cotton stretched tight over your mound—
He’s not looking. He shouldn’t be looking. Sakusa lowers his gaze in the mirror to spit the toothpaste into the sink.
“Hey, can I borrow some of that?”
You’re standing at his elbow now, blinking up at him. Pleading. When he wordlessly hands over the tube, you grin, eyes crinkling up at the corners like he just offered to take your hand in marriage rather than letting you have some toothpaste that he wasn’t going to miss anyway. “Thanks! You’re the best.”
You barely know him. Sakusa’s pretty sure that these early-morning bathroom encounters are the only times you two interact.
“How was your workout?” you ask when you’re done brushing your teeth.
Sakusa has to grip the edge of the counter to tear his eyes away from you when you spit it out—white foam dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin—but that’s beside the point. “It was fine.”
“Yeah? Did you run or go to the gym?”
“Gym.” Why are you so curious? You’re too friendly.
You hum appreciatively, rubbing foamy circles of cleanser into your skin. The smell of it is light—floral, but barely. Lavender, maybe. That’s step one of your morning skincare routine, which Sakusa’s pretty certain he knows as well as you do by now. Next will be toner, and then you’ll save the rest for after your shower—but before you reach for the next little bottle in the row you’ve lined up on the bathroom counter, you turn toward him. “I should get back on a regular gym schedule too. Maybe one day I’ll go with you?”
“If you can wake up that early.” The remark must come out harsher than Sakusa intended, because you raise your eyebrows and your mouth drops open—but a second later you’re smiling again, turning back to the mirror so you can pat the toner into your skin.
“You’re probably right. I don’t know how you wake up at six in the morning every day.”
5:45, he wants to correct. But if he keeps talking to you, you’re going to notice he’s staring. So he just finishes washing his face without answering, puts his stuff back into the locker, and makes his way over to the shower stalls, leaving you and the scent of lavender behind.
There are five stalls. All open, of course. Second from the left has the best water pressure, and the one on the far right has a removable shower head and heats up the quickest. But Sakusa chooses the middle stall. For no reason. Not because he knows exactly which stall you’re going to pick, and he wants to be sure he’s in the stall next to yours when you do. He takes his time—undresses slowly, folding his dirty gym clothes even though they’re going straight into the laundry; sets his shampoo and conditioner and body wash out on the bench in the order that he’s going to use them; turns the knob to just the right angle to get the right temperature and waits for it to heat up until he can see the steam saturating the air.
By the time Sakusa’s under the water, massaging shampoo through his hair and feeling the sweat slough off his skin along with the shower spray, you’re done with your pre-shower skincare, padding over from the sinks to the stalls and picking—predictably—the one next to his. He has to strain himself to hear it over the sound of splashing water but he does hear it: your cheap pink flip-flops slapping against the tile floor, the relieved yawn in your breath as you stretch (you always stretch) and the soft rustling of fabric as you take off your clothes and deposit them in a heap on the bench.
Sakusa tilts his head up into the shower spray and feels the stray drops clinging to his eyelashes and wonders how much he’d be able to see if the walls were made of glass.
Today is Wednesday, and that means you’re going to wash your hair today because you always wash it on Wednesdays. Sakusa can already smell the shampoo you use filtering into the air. What is it? Sharper and more bitter than mint, medicinal almost—he’s considered asking you a few times what it is, but he can’t figure out a way to phrase the question.
Hey, (Y/N), tell me what product you use to wash your hair. Ever since I started jacking off in the shower to you, I can’t get off unless I’m smelling it.
That probably wouldn’t go over well.
Fuck, he’s already hard. The heat of the shower is nothing compared to the heat of his blood pumping down to his cock. Sakusa rinses through his hair quickly, freeing up his hands so he can palm his shaft and give it a tentative stroke.
Through the shower wall you give a light, soft sigh of appreciation, and Sakusa feels his cock jump in his hand. You prefer your showers hotter than he does—white puffs of steam are rising up over the gap between the stall divider and the ceiling, and you always come out flushed. The heat must feel nice, hm? He can almost see you, standing naked under the shower head in just your stupid pink flip-flops, letting rivulets of water drip down from the crown of your head to flow lower…over your shoulders, your back, your tits; your fingers lathering the shampoo through your hair, soap bubbles washing the grease away from you, draining away yesterday’s grime so you’re all fresh and squeaky clean.
You sigh again, and your voice is pushing out behind the breath. A moan, almost. Do you ever touch yourself in the shower? He’d be a hypocrite to think you shouldn’t be able to take advantage of this rare moment of privacy…it’s so hard to get time to yourself in the dorms, he can sympathize… So maybe you let your hands dip lower while you wash, shift your thighs apart so you can fit your fingers between them. Pet that puffy little cunt, push your fingers inside, feel your slick wash off in the water just to be replaced with more.
Sakusa wraps his fingers around his cock and slides his hand up the shaft, moving slowly so he can savor the light friction. Your hands would be soft, wouldn’t they? Softer than his. You don’t have calluses like he does—all that lotion you use must be doing you some good. And your hands are a lot smaller than his are…you’d probably have trouble getting one hand all the way around. You’d have to use both hands to hold him, hold his cock and pump him, jack him off…
If your hands are too small for him, what about your mouth?
The shower is so warm and you’re so close. Sakusa closes his eyes so he can breathe in that sweet medicinal smell and imagine you in here with him.
Your mouth. Soft lips, no makeup, just your natural color dampened from the water and your spit and his precum, closed around him, stretched around him to accommodate for the mass of his cock sitting in your mouth. Little pink tongue flicking out to tease the tip, lapping flat at the underside and then kissing it. You’d be a tease, a fucking tease. Looking up at him with those eyes, batting your eyelashes over your dewy-wet cheeks as you try to swallow him a little deeper. He’d tangle his fingers around the back of your head, push the strands of wet hair away from your face, pull your mouth up and down on his cock while the water splashes down around the two of you—
There’s a click of a cap popping shut and your shoes smacking wetly against the floor while you reach over to grab another bottle. You’re humming to yourself—a song Sakusa’s heard on his friends’ playlists and at parties but he doesn’t know the lyrics. Sometimes you sing in the shower (always softly, under your breath, so quiet he’d barely be able to hear if he wasn’t listening) but today you just hum. Maybe you’d sing out loud if he wasn’t there?
You’re probably being considerate to him...you do seem like the type. After all, you must be as aware of his presence three feet away from you as he is of yours. You probably think about him in the shower too.
Sakusa’s hips buck forward, pushing his dick through his hand as he pumps it with no real technique or rhythm, just trying to match the pace of his breathing to what he can hear of yours. The heat of his impending climax is coiling low in his belly, even though it hasn’t been long—it never takes long when he’s thinking about you. You’ve practically become a part of his own morning routine, to the point where he couldn’t even get off when he went home for spring break a few weeks ago. When the two of you move out of the dorms and go your separate ways, it’s going to be annoying. He should really stop this, wean himself off you while he can…not that he really wants to.
Your voice isn’t bad when you sing, but it’d be a lot better moaning his name.
People fuck in the showers. Sakusa knows that, he’s heard them himself and always been acutely disgusted at the filth of it all. Dorm bathrooms are notoriously foul—there’s a reason people wear shoes when they’re showering, and the thought of people actually fucking in here makes his skin crawl. But with you? He can see it, he can feel it—the soft fat of your thighs in his hands, skin dimpling under his grip as he holds you up; your arms twisted around his neck hugging into him; the hot water streaming over both of your bodies as his cock slaps into your pussy, burying into that tight wet heat.
Sakusa grits his teeth to stifle a groan and wonders if you heard it, and then he’s feeling around for the memory of your sleepy “Good morning, Kiyoomi” and warping your voice in his mind until he can almost hear your lips wrapping around his name, panting it, whimpering it, choking it out between pleas for him to fuck you harder—Kiyoomi, please, fuck me fuck me just like that, fuck my little pussy til I can’t walk straight Kiyoomi I need you!
God, he wants to hear it, he wants to say your name, wants you to know he’s jacking off to you. Sakusa’s hand speeds up and his hips are thrusting into his fist, the water making wet clicking noises every time his cockhead moves up past his fingers as he imagines fucking you right here in this shower. He’d make you cum, make you clench and tighten around him, make you wake up the entire goddamn floor with your screaming, and—fuck, he’s mouthing out the syllables, and then he can hear his own voice out loud and he’s saying your name—
“K-Kiyoomi?”
Your actual voice—lifted, high and clear as a bell ringing even stifled by the stall and the rushing water hits Sakusa and he flinches—and cums, cock jerking under his grip as the sticky white fluid shoots out to coat his hand. It’s good, so good, so fucking good, you said his name, you said it, fucking perfect—the release passes over him so forcefully that he has to hold his breath to bite back the stuttered hiss of pleasure from deep in his throat.
“Kiyoomi?” you ask again from the other stall, voice uncertain. “Did you say my name? I thought I heard you…”
It takes him a long moment to catch his breath, and another to work up enough control to straighten and raise his hand to the spray, letting the cum wash off his skin and down the drain in cloudy white trickles. “I didn’t.”
“Oh, sorry! Guess I imagined it.” You’re back to your cheerful self, humming that brainless melody and soaping yourself up without a care in the world. So gullible. Like always. And it’s not like Sakusa wanted to get caught, but…he can’t help wondering what you’d do if you knew.
Maybe you’d hate him. Maybe you’d call him a creep, stop showering when he does, avoid his gaze when you pass each other in the halls.
Or maybe you’d be into it.
Sakusa finishes his shower at the same time you do, so he can catch you just as you step out of the stall. “Oh—“ you start, barely keeping yourself from bumping into his chest. “Oops!”
Your face is stained pink from the heat of the shower…or maybe it’s the way you’re staring at his bare chest that’s making you blush. Sakusa’s not flattering himself—he knows he’s good-looking, knows what the years of athletics have done for him, and you are staring—but just for a moment before you catch yourself and right your gaze back up to his face, absently watching him towel off his hair. The fact that you let your eyes stray a little gives him permission to do the same, so he takes a moment to examine the lines of your shoulders, your soaked hair sticking to your neck, the dip of your cleavage under the fluffy white robe you’re wearing.
You smell good, all soft and wet and clean. Sakusa can’t help imagining if you taste that good, too.
“Um…s’cuse me,” you say after a moment when he doesn’t move to let you pass through the walkway. You could try to skirt around him, but he’s so big.
“What shampoo do you use?”
You blink and pat your hair self-consciously. “It’s, uh, tea tree oil? It has peppermint and lavender and stuff too I think, it’s really good for waking up in the morning—sorry, I know some people don’t like the smell—“
“No, it doesn’t bother me.” Sakusa’s eyes narrow before he steps out of the way to let you walk past.
I like it, he wants to add. But he doesn’t.
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babydaddyleorio · 3 years ago
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 picking your afro [bakugo x black!reader]
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“Hold still, dammit!” Bakugo fussed as he ran his hands through your mane of hair, spreading oil all across your scalp. You smacked your lips and side eyed him over your shoulder before going back to what you were doing, paying him no mind at all.
You were scrolling on your phone trying to find a song to play until your thumb finally halted over the singer Sade’s icon. Without another thought, you clicked on her song No Ordinary Love and the soft beat filled your living room, instantly lulling you into a state of tranquility. You started singing the lyrics slightly to yourself and picked up the hand held mirror placed beside your feet so that you could see what Bakugo was doing behind you.
You were sitting on the freshly vacuumed carpet, resting in between Bakugo’s legs as he sat on the edge of the couch. Your eyes caught sight of him getting frustrated while patting his hands across the seat cushions, and when he lifted up the pillow beside him, he smiled triumphantly before pulling an object from underneath it.
“Thought I lost you.” He mumbled to what he found, and you realized he was holding your pick in his hands.
“You better not have.” You teased and Bakugo put his hand up as if to say not talking to you before moving his focus back to your hair. Your curls were in their natural state which fell into the shape of a thick afro. You wanted to fluff it out, but you remembered that Bakugo had asked if he could help you last time, so you slyly shifted the chore onto him. 
You figured he should be fine even if this was his first time. You had already prepped by making sure that your hair was already slightly damp with moisture, but not too much, only enough to avoid a lot of breakage. 
“Alright, here goes.” Bakugo said in his usual gruff voice before he took the comb and put it in your hair. He gently moved it through your strands, taking his other free hand to guide it through the comb’s teeth.
“Is this how you do it?” He grumbled after a while, his eyes glancing at you through the mirror that was still in your hand. “‘M not hurting you, right?” 
You nodded your head in assurance, seeing the significant difference being made already. Bakugo had massaged your scalp so well that tingles had begun to spread all across it, not to mention that you detangled it earlier which meant that the process wasn’t painful in the slightest.
In fact, everything was peaceful at that moment. Lauryn Hill was now playing and flowing gracefully from your speaker, the sun shined through the blinds draped across the window and fell delicately on your plants, and your burning incense floated throughout the air to cleanse and purify your entity. The soothing energy radiated all around your bodies and you slowly leaned into Bakugo’s touch since you were so serene.
“Finished.” Bakugo stated suddenly and you blinked your eyes open, noticing you had dozed off slightly amid the process. You looked in the mirror and saw your afro had much more volume to it now and was significantly bigger than it had been before.
“Oooh, this is nice.” You beamed as you patted your crown with a smile, turning your head to get all the angles.
“Of course it is, I’m the one who did it.” Bakugo rolled his eyes cockily before smirking down at you.
“You like it?” You questioned softly and Bakugo stiffened, his face gradually falling into a glare.
“What the hell type of question is that?” He asked while crossing his arms against his chest in annoyance. Bakugo’s gaze stubbornly traced the gorgeous cloud of curls resting on top of your head, taking note of how mesmerizing it was to his eyes. And once he noticed that you were still staring at him expectantly, he loudly cleared his throat before peering away from you and lowering his voice slightly. 
“It’s beautiful, alright?”
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taglist: @k3isuk3 @kaminohosu
[let me know if you want to be added!]
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papergirllife · 3 years ago
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Lee Jeno
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'You ease Jeno's frustrations during a late night recording session."
Warnings : unprotected sex, cockwarming, generally quite fluffy.
Word count : 1.8k
You were in your pajamas at 1 a.m. in the morning, still in the company because your boyfriend is trying to record the best version of his verse in the recording booth a few feet away, his black denim jacket draped across your chest to shield you from the cold.
You were going through your own lyrics, making a few changes here and there to make sure the flow of the song suits you, working in a low volume to avoid disturbing Jeno, who was already getting antsy from this certain verse.
When you were done, you placed the pencil on the desk and got up from your seat, walking to the booth where Jeno had his handsome face in a frown.
“You okay, Jeno? Aren’t you cold in here?” you asked as you took his jacket off of you, draping it back onto his broad shoulders.
“I'm feeling fine, you should use it,” Jeno said shortly before he takes it off, putting it onto you again.
“But you're just in a tank, and you have to perform on stages very soon, you can't catch a cold,” you argued before trying to take it off once more, only to be stopped by Jeno’s hands.
“I'm fine, you're the one who's sensitive to the cold, I don't want you to get sick because of me, I didn't ask for you to be here with me, and still you showered and came back here to be with me, I'm sorry for eating up our time, I know I promised to have a night in with you,” Jeno said with a sad tinge to his usually cheerful eyes before reaching out for you, embracing you into his warmth.
“I know how important this comeback is for you, I wanted to stay here with you because I'm stubborn and that's on me, not you,” you said before turning your body to tuck yourself closer into Jeno, giving his bicep a quick peck before burying your head into his neck, the familiar scent of cologne filling your lungs.
Jeno let's out a chuckle at this odd but familiar action, you started doing this since the day Jeno had started working out on his arms more, every little thing he does you’d always be proud of it, which is why you're so different from everyone else, Jeno feels safe with you, the fact that the both of you absolutely adore each other irks his members out, but he doesn’t care, not when he only has eyes for you.
“I love you,” Jeno said without hesitation, it's always been like this for the two of you, saying these three words whenever you felt like it, communication between the two of you has always been good, though it hasn't always been like this.
There was a time at the beginning of the relationship where Jeno only knew how to show his love through actions, fearing that it may seem too pushy if he constantly speaks up about his emotions, being a guy and all, but your reassurance of loving to hear everything he has to say, as well as those doe eyes of yours that always have a hundred percent focus on him, had given him a sense of comfort, and so he now speaks whatever that comes to mind when he's with you, most often 'I love yous', it could be in the morning when you wake up, or moments like this where there are uncertainties in his head, you’re his rock.
“I love you too, Jeno,” you said it back before pulling away slightly to kiss him, pulling him closer again by looping your hands around his nape, playing with the strands of hair there as you bit on his bottom lip gently before feeling a sudden grip on your hip, a gasp falling from your lips just to give Jeno the opportunity to dominate the kiss, getting you right where he wanted you to be, under his control.
Jeno tasted like the chocolate mint balls he was having just now, a mixture of sweet chocolate and invigorating mint clouding your senses, the taste so addictive that you licked at his tongue just to taste more, but soon Jeno pulled away, noticing that you were running out of breath, your forehead lolled against his, a sign that he was all too familiar with.
“Slow down, baby, what's got you so worked up?” Jeno asked as he peppers kisses down your neck sloppily, he knows he can't mark you without your manager lecturing you, so he'll just have to manoeuvre himself to the valley of your breasts, popping open the buttons of your pajamas to reveal that you've worn a set that had no padding, the tips of your nipples would've been obvious it weren't for how loose your shirt was.
“Remember the last time we fucked in here? You had a writer’s block for stronger and 119, I want to be your muse again, Jen,” you reminded him as you trailed your hand at the hem of his tank, palming his abs that you go crazy over, you must be the luckiest girl ever, to find a guy who’s as hot as he’s talented in his career, not to mention the sinful things he does with those dancer hips.
Jeno chuckled at that fond memory, recalling Jaemin’s horrid expression when he found the two of you in such a state.
“You do know that this is ANL right?” gesturing at the lyrics on the stand.
“Which is a highly suggestive yet quite a fluffy song, we have to set the mood in order for you to actually gain some inspiration, no?” you said before you pulled off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you.
“Greedy aren't you?” Jeno said as he tips your chin higher to get a good look at you in the dim lights, admiring your swollen lips and the lust in your eyes, all because of him.
“Well, you can't pen my name down for these songs, the least you can do is give me a good fuck to remember it by,” you said with those seductive eyes of yours looking into his hooded ones before reaching down his pants, a jolt from his cock at your freezing hands.
“Whatever my baby wants, whatever she gets am I right?” Jeno said before manoeuvring you to your back facing his, letting your ass feel his hard on.
You placed your hands on the stool that Jeno previously sat in, arching your back for him to easily access the situation.
Jeno pulls your sweats and panties down hanging them onto the stand, you purse your lips at the sight, hoping that none of your arousal gets onto the surface, but before you could make up your mind whether to tell Jeno to place your clothing somewhere else, Jeno had spread your folds with two fingers, a hand coming up to swipe at your slit teasingly before pinching your clit lightly in between his thumb and index finger, combing a moan out of you, legs jolting at the sudden pleasure, you were always sensitive there.
“Fuck, baby, I barely touched you and you’re dripping wet, didn't know you were this worked up,” Jeno said by your ear, his voice a few octaves lower.
Jeno enters two fingers in one go, making you buckle your knees at the sudden intrusion, not expecting it so soon, the feeling of his rough finger pads reaching deep into you, searching for that one spot, and when he found it, it felt like the first taste of heaven, a whimper falling from your lips as you held onto the stool harder, preparing for what's to come.
Jeno thrusted his fingers in a moderate pace before sliding in a third, making a scissoring motion to open you up for his large cock.
When he deemed that you were wet enough, Jeno shoved his pants and boxers down to his knees, impatient for the warmth in between your legs.
Jeno positioned himself at your entrance, pushing in an inch before slamming himself into you.
“Fuck, Jeno!” you could feel how full you were now, and how he fits perfectly inside you, his tip dangerously close to your sweet spot, you just need him to move.
“Jeno, you can move now, please,” you begged, breathless as your mind is still registering the feeling of this euphoria.
Jeno clenches his jaw in concentration before pulling out of your sweet pussy slightly, before thrusting back in, starting a quick and shallow pace, the way your warm walls were clenching onto him was making him lightheaded from the immense pleasure, but he knows he has to get his shit together if he wants to actually finish up recording tonight.
Jeno grips onto your hips as he builds up his pace, pistoning his dick inside of you hard and fast as he hears your screams of pleasure, the sound echoing in this small booth, encouraging him to go faster as he gets addicted to this sweet melody.
You held onto the stool for your dear life as you felt the knot in your abdomen slowly unwinding, a sign that you’re nearing your edge.
“I'm gonna cum, Jen, cum with me, please,” you said before purposely clenching onto his dick.
“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last any longer if you keep doing that,” Jeno said in one breath, before focusing back onto chasing both your highs, a hand moving to your breasts to pinch your nipples with the perfect amount of pain, he knows how much of a pain slut you are for him, and that was exactly what pushed you over the edge.
You felt your body convulsing as you orgasmed, the knot snapping free as the screams of Jeno’s name tumble from your lips as you let Jeno continue.
Jeno came only a few sloppy thrusts, after you, biting onto your shoulder as he came, giving a few hard thrusts to ride out both your highs, and just so he could bury his cum inside you, letting both your juices mix.
When both of you were done, Jeno moved your limp body expertly on top of his as he took a seat onto the stool, him still inside of you, your head tucked by his left shoulder, picking up where he had left off just now.
“You're right baby, you really are my muse,” Jeno said before humming a tune, then correcting some errors on the sheet.
“Well, good to know I was helpful, now if you'll excuse me, I need to clean up,” you said before trying to get up.
Jeno's left hand grips onto your hips, restricting you from leaving.
“Stay for a bit, I'm finishing up soon, then I'll clean you up, I'm sure you’re too tired to walk now, get some rest,” Jeno said as he pats your head gently, something he does that oddly lulls you to sleep.
“Okay, just don't overwork yourself,” you said before drifting off to sleep on your boyfriend’s shoulder, your very own human pillow.
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4dtk · 3 years ago
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heloo! can I request hand-holding (3), kisses (6, 12) hugs (32) and touching (12) with renjun, thank uu^^
why do my renjun drabbles always end up so long LOL . btw age old kiss under the mistletoe <3 never too early for x’ams imagines i guess LOL, enjoy!!!
hand-holding, 3: cold hands in warm hands
hugs, 32: long-lasting hugs
kisses, 6 & 12: slow kisses, kisses on the corner of their mouth
touching, 12: pushing a strand of hair behind their ear
renjun’s eyes couldn’t leave yours. well, more of your body as you talked with mark, gesturing grandly about his new single that he dropped. he remembers you playing it whenever you met up, rapping the lyrics back to him that only had renjun groaning in embarrassment. staring around the room, he scans over the members in the party with a smile. having had taken a rest from the all the alcohol earlier, he was glad to be left alone to his… indulgences where no one could interrupt him.
“hey.”
“gah! wh- what the hell?” haechan shocks him out of his stupor, easily avoiding a smack on the back from renjun. his laughter gains attention from others, but otherwise they just return a cheeky laugh back while conversing. soon, the other is able to pick up on his loneliness, partially blaming it on the crazy challenge he dared renjun to do earlier. the partial reason, however..
“are you ever going to confess to (y/n)?” haechan raises a brow.
“keep it down! christ, hyuck. just because some members here have their partners on their arms doesn’t mean i should rush to make (y/n) mine.”
“oh, but you’re so obvious that it’s tiring to watch,” haechan sighs, taking a swig of his drink. the both of them admire the theme of the party for a little bit, red and green decorations hung from the spacious dorm, held on the fifth floor because they were the ‘cleanest’ (against jungwoo’s wishes and with kun’s agreement, they settled for an early celebration on the 23rd).
the speakers blasted christmas music, no doubt from the talented mr. bublé who was a compulsory artist to listen to, along with other renditions of christmas songs that just felt good. fairy lights from the members’ rooms were brought to be set up. plus, with ten’s recent sunset light purchase that he bought for the felines, the room was soon bathed in joyous lighting that could rival decorations outside.
“dude. the members had to have their partners fly in because they’re both so busy. (y/n)’s already there, c’mon the opportunity is right there — and this is the one time you’re able to unwind and relax. just go for it, man,” haechan is relaxed and laid-back, haven’t yet experienced the palpitations whenever one looks at their crush. the only exception was probably a rookie idol back then, but that was old news.
“if you happen to want to cuddle or fuck later, we’ll leave you alone.” this time, renjun was able to land a punch to his shoulder, expression turned into a scowl.
“you’re right, i guess. i’ll see what i can do.”
a gasp, “renjun admitting i’m right? rare.” renjun gives the other a lighter smack with a smile, chugging down the last bit of his water before heading over to you. he feels like he’s walking through snow whenever he wants to get to you, the resistance strong with each step. curling and uncurling his fingers, he loosened his freezing hands as you wrap up the conversation with mark.
“renjun! have a good rest? donghyuck was trying to avoid you for the past fifteen minutes, because he knew you’d get another headache if he talked to you.”
“i’m having one right now,” renjun jokes, emphasising his point by rubbing some fingers on his temple.
your laugh is like first snow. or like the heater that’s currently fuelling the house with heat. he isn’t sure what to choose, but he knows he likes it and wants to make you laugh more.
“do you need to rest again? i’ll promise i’ll be quiet-“
“delivery?” someone calls out. with a shout, you’re already at the door, receiving another batch of booze since the grocery shopping you went on earlier severely underestimated how much these boys can drink. “oh- uh-“ renjun swoops in like prince charming, hand brushing over yours while he steps forward to help you. they tingle like electricity, deciding against pulling away which would leave you to struggle.
“miss (l/n) (y/n) and mr huang renjun. please freeze in your place,” haechan’s annoying voice penetrates throughout all the conversation happening and you swear the man beside you mutters a curse as you two try to haul the booze past the member. “place the beer down. you aren’t going anywhere, anyway.”
before any of you can ask for an explanation, he points above you which displayed a mistletoe. “surprise!”
the delivery man’s voice scares you, until you realise it’s johnny, hidden under a very smart disguise of a fake moustache and a replica of the uniform. your mouth hangs open even when johnny squeezes past you with the booze effortlessly hanging from one arm, sighing inaudibly at the absence of the heavy drinks.
“so?” the members are looking at you expectedly like they’re watching a movie. there’s endless thoughts swirling in your mind even when renjun grabs your hand with his timid one, but it calms you down just a little when he brushes a thumb over your skin. it’s like you’re waiting for the director to yell out ‘cut!’; even you thought you’d do better on a movie set.
“(y/n)-“
he’s cut off by your lips crashing onto his, garnering a few ooohs and ahhs, including the satisfied smiles and sighs of relief. renjun’s lips taste like a mixture of the candy cane drink he spat out earlier, and some whiskey with coke. it’s a confusing taste, but with the pace your lips are moving with each other, it allows you to draw out every other time you imagined kissing huang renjun.
it doesn’t even come close, if you’re being honest and even if you’re standing in front of countless other men he calls his members in a ridiculously sized k-pop group. renjun deepens the kiss when he turns his head, cold, but clammy hands coming up the cup your cheeks. they shock you for just a bit and there’s a shameless smile into the kiss as renjun continues to deliver pecks onto your own.
he chuckle and it sounds like well-written christmas movies, or the very first listen to michael bublé’s christmas album. you aren’t sure what to choose, but you know you like it and want to make him chuckle more.
in a blink of an eye, you’ve grabbed his hand, heading straight for one of the rooms that you often see when renjun’s gaming with haechan. you recognise it straight away from the set-up and in a rush to shut the door, you stumble just a bit before meeting the hard wood of the door in a roar of laughter.
“great, now they’ve locked two people out,” haechan nudges johnny.
“three!” johnny’s partner calls from the doorway, which makes the living room shake in another round of cheers, getting back into the natural flow of things before everything got interrupted by a plant. faintly, you hear them ask if the plan worked, and haechan’s prideful answer right after.
slowly, you peek out of your hiding spot being your hands. renjun’s eyes shine, “so you like me.” it comes out flatter than he expected and he winces.
you snort, taking a step closer to him on the door, half leaning on it. without any prompting, the other’s arms encircle your waist, now pulling you flush against him while your head rest on his front. the next moments are spent in comfortable silence, the rowdy party going on outside giving you a little of a main character moment. your breathing syncs up, chest expanding and contracting with the deep breaths you take. there’s always a puff of mist leaving your lips, but it appears less now that you’re in your crush’s arms.
“yeah. i like you,” you nod, coming to face him after the tight embrace. his fingers touch your cheek experimentally and you flinch, the pads freezing cold to the touch. maybe it’s because he didn’t touch whiskey for the past half ’n hour. gently, you take his hands in yours. “why’re you always freezing?”
“ugh. you figured me out. tactic to get you to hold my hands.” throwing your head back in a silent laugh, you shake your head in disbelief.
“at least you haven’t caught on to me, holding your hands down so you won’t have to-” a kiss to one corner of his mouth. “restrict me from-” another to the other. “doing this.” lastly to his lips.
renjun entertains your dramatic flair with his jaw hung open. it doesn’t last long, though. “why would i restrict you from doing that?” you shrug, letting go of his hands now that they gained sufficient warmth. renjun silently decides it’s not enough, but first, he wants to kiss you again. his fingers are less freakishly cold now, brushing against your skin to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. it sits there obediently, dissimilar with the way you did it. ‘it always falls out!’ you want to tell him later, but first, you want to kiss him again.
“huang renjun, you drive me crazy.” grinning, renjun knows it’s your way of confessing before his lips collide with yours with the fervour that hallmark movies lacked, and ironically, a plot which hallmark movies embodied. and just like that, you wish you could hold a pause icon over your head, because you wanted this to last for as long as it could.
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loostssoul · 4 years ago
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if you kissed me - Rodrick Heffley | 1.9k
Yeah yeah i know i haven't written since a million years ago. and yeah yeah i know this is my first real fanfiction i posted on tumblr. fair warning, i'm not the best writer, i honestly just do this for fun and i'm totally up to criticism because i do want to make my writing better. if this is literally inaccurate, im sorry its been like 5 years since i've read the books. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fluff-fest that I created in the span of a few hours.
paring: rodrick x reader genre: fluff. lots of fluff
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Credits to the maker of the picture! 15 Days till the Contest | 9:42 PM, Saturday
Plick, plick, plick
My speakers were blasting so loud I almost didn’t hear the sound of pebbles hitting my window.
Plick, plick, plick
I rubbed my eyes and slammed my laptop shut, walking toward my bedroom window. Peering down, I saw a figure a few yards down from my second-story bedroom, looking back up at me. Dark brown, messy hair that stuck up around his face. A red and black flannel, black ripped jeans, and, (of course) a tee-shirt with “Loded Diper” clumsily written on it. A grin spread on his face as he saw my face come into his view, causing me to blush. Rodrick Heffley, Crossland High bad boy, and my boyfriend.
I unlocked the latch to my window and stuck my head out, taking in the cool air and letting the neighbors enjoy the music I was playing (they never did). I looked down.
“Y/N!” He whisper-yelled
“Evening, Heffley.”
“I need to tell you something!”
“What’s so important that you have to scratch my window instead of using the power of modern technology to call me?”
His mouth opened to give me a response, but nothing came out. I smirked, “Come on up.”
I opened the window wider as he climbed the trellis that lined the back of my house. I backed up to my door and locked it. Precautions, my parents liked Rodrick but they definitely wouldn’t approve of him in my room at night. I looked back and I saw him, every feature of him illuminated by the light of my room. His cheeky smile and chocolate brown eyes. He slowly closed the window and walked toward me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. I still got butterflies whenever he touched me.
“Hey, Spiderman. What did ya climb in here to tell me?” I asked
“I got Loded Diper into a contest.”
My eyes widened, Loded Diper, my boyfriend’s rock band, wasn’t exactly known for being the best. It was mostly known for his mom’s insane dance moves during the Plainview Talent Show. But of course, i'll never say that in front of his face.
“You did?! That’s awesome Rodrick!”
“Yeah! It's a battle of the bands contest, we’re going against two other bands. I really think this is gonna be our big break!” His eyes sparkled in excitement.
His happiness was contagious, he was like a goddamn puppy. I pulled him into my arms. “I’m proud of you Rod.” I muttered and smiled into his collarbone. I felt him inhale the scent of my hair and twirl my locks around his fingers.
“Hey,” he said, breaking the hug. “I’m having practice tomorrow with the band, you wanna come?”
“Sure. I go to every practice anyway, why miss out on this one?” I shrugged.
He chuckled and looked at me. Really looked at me. That’s one of the reasons why I fell for him. It never seemed like it, but he paid attention. We’ve only been dating for 4 months, but he knew me like no one else did, and I knew that in the way he looked at me. I felt his hand cup my face, his thumb rubbing my cheek in small circles. I looked up at him, noticing how tall he was, how close he was. Was I the one who leaned in? Was he the one who leaned in? Did we just do it subconsciously? Did he want this? Was he ready? Was I ready?
The ringing of Rodrick’s phone filled the room. The daze we were trapped in was gone and we separated, our faces red. Rodrick picked up the phone, it was his mom.
“Yeah, mom? Mom...I’m in the middle of something. I’ll do laundry later, ok? Now? C’mon… Alright, fine. Bye.” He hung up. “Sorry, I gotta blast.”
“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked him as he started toward my window.
He looked back at me and planted a kiss on my forehead, the farthest we’ve ever gone with physical touch as a couple.
“Tomorrow”
~~✰✰✰~~
14 Days till the Contest | 1:22 PM, Saturday afternoon
“Should we take it from the top?”
Practice wasn’t going so well. I could feel the nervousness, the tension. Drums were slightly off beat, the guitarist’s fingers would fly to the wrong places on the fretboard, lyrics would go all over the place. The contest was two weeks away, and Loded Diper was already feeling the anxiousness. I sat on the floor of the garage, on top of a picnic blanket I found. To Rodrick’s dismay, his mom forced him to let Greg watch band practice, as a form of “brother-to-brother bonding time.” Greg sat next to me, mockingly covering his ears.
“Oh thank god, it's done.” Greg said with an immense amount of sarcasm and uncovering his ears.
Rodrick threw a crumpled-up piece of paper at his head, “Shut up.”
“Both of you, be nice.” I laughed. “I think you guys should take a break for a while, maybe shake off the nerves.”
“Good idea Y/N, 20 minute break everyone!” The lead singer said. Everyone spread out, grabbing a piece of pizza ordered earlier and laying down. Greg ran out of the garage, yelling, “I’m free!”
Rodrick stood up and began gulping down a bottle of water. He wore a black tanktop and black ripped jeans, sweat dripping down his forehead. I ran up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso. He turned and faced me, running his hands through my hair, lost in thought.
“You ok, Rod?” I asked him.
He sighed, “nerves”
I leaned my head on his chest, “You’re gonna do great, you’ve done so many gigs in the past. Think of this as one of those!”
He smiled at me, “You know what would make me feel a lot less nervous?”
“Oh god. What?”
A really common thing Rodrick did was try to bargain a kiss on the lips from me. It's been an ongoing joke, a meaningless bit he did all the time. I’ll do my homework if you kissed me on the lips. I’ll smile in the picture if you kissed me on the lips. It still hasn’t worked.
“I might be less nervous if you kissed me on the lips.” He whispered to me.
I rolled my eyes, “If that’s what it takes then I think you’ll lose the competition.”
He let go of me and laughed, my favorite laugh. “Worth a try.” He shrugged, going off to join his bandmates and the pizza. But as I watched him smile and laugh with his friends, I lost myself. I thought about the previous night. The way we fit into each other, the closeness, the fact that was so close that I could see my reflection in his eyes.
Maybe I should just say yes.
~~✰✰✰~~
The Day of the Contest
For the past 2 weeks, Rodrick has given me the “kiss-bargain” joke 9 times. Every time, I deflected it with sarcastic remarks, and every time I regretted not agreeing.
I sat on the front steps of my porch, waiting for Rodrick to pick me up. I regretted the jean shorts and plain black tee-shirt I had on, as a cold breeze brushed my skin. I pulled my black leather jacket on, which I painted “Loded Diper” on the back in white paint. Then, I heard it. The echo of heavy metal turned to full blast, and… the faint sound of something big getting knocked over. Oh god, they’re here. The white van with ��Loded Diper” written in huge words screeched to a halt in front of my house.
The window rolled down, revealing my boyfriend and his excited grin. “Get in.”
~~✰✰✰~~
30 minutes till Loded Diper preforms
It felt surreal to be backstage, and really exciting. Energy was flowing through the room, as all the other bands talked and played. The rest of the band members seemed excited, full of adrenaline. Except for Rodrick, he’s been nervous ever since soundcheck. His leg was bouncing,he twirled his drumsticks around, drumming them on random objects, and his eyes stared into nothing.
“Rodrick, you want me to do your eyeliner?”
“Huh?” He didn’t take his eyes away from the ground, his voice seemed far away.
I lifted a liquid eyeliner pen I had in my pocket, “Eyeliner. I just did mine, we can match!”
He lifted his head and noticed me. I had my eyeliner smudged, just like he always does during a gig. He grinned, “Yeah. Yeah sure.”
I’ve done his eyeliner many times in the past, and I loved doing it because I had to be as close to him as possible. So I hopped onto his lap, pressing myself close to him, trying to comfort him with my warmth.
“Close your eyes.” I ordered.
As I applied his eyeliner, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was heavy, and fast. I’m pretty sure I would still hear it if I wasn’t as close to him as I was, even though the loud music blasting through the theatre.
“Done”
He opened his eyes, and butterflies flooded my stomach. We were close. Very close. Should I do it? Should I lean in?
Rodrick probably sensed my flustered-ness. He smirked, “Cat got your tongue?”
I rolled my eyes, blushing hard. “Shut up.” I said, playfully punching him.
~~✰✰✰~~
“5 Minutes until Loded Diper performs!” A man exclaimed to us.
Rodrick was as nervous as ever. We’ve been standing on the left wing of the stage, watching the other bands play. It felt like a bunch of Loded Diper copy-pastes. A bunch of high schoolers, weird names, very aggressive playing. But they were still pretty good. Rodrick was biting the nails of one of his hands and tapping his other hand on the wall behind him. I looked up at him and held his hand, stopping it from fidgeting. He smiled nervously.
Now or never Y/N…
“Hey, you said that if I kiss you, you won’t be as nervous. Right?”
He looked at me, wide eyed. He seemed to be trying to compute what I said.
I stood on tiptoe and put his face in my hands. It was that night all over again. Every detail of his face, of him was in full view. His eyes, his eyeliner, his scent, his lips. I leaned in.
His lips were soft against mine, but they were tense, flustered. I was terrified, It was the wrong place, the wrong time. Until I felt one hand in my hair, another on my waist, pulling me closer.
How long was the kiss? A few seconds? It felt like minutes, hours. Sparked ignited. Butterflies flew in my stomach. His scent was the only thing I smelled, his warmth was the only thing I felt. The music faded away. Everything faded away. It was just him and I. Until we broke apart, taking in deep breaths of each other. We wanted more, but Loded Diper was playing in a few seconds.
“Hey, Rodrick.”
“Yeah?”
“If you win I’ll kiss you again”
We both knew I would kiss him regardless.
I didn't edit this because editing is for wimps (just kidding be responsible and edit your work)
please like and reblog because it gives me serotonin and i need that
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denkamis · 4 years ago
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Can you please write a fluff one shot about a sk8 the infinity like his girlfriend/boyfriend/s/o falls asleep on him
to anon: omg first request omgomg thank you so much for sending one in! i wasn’t sure which sk8 character you were referring to, so i decided to write one for both reki and langa! hope you don’t mind hehe <3 this is the one for reki, the one for langa will take a little bit longer bc of valentine’s & other requests but i hope you like this one regardless!
warnings: none, just some fluffy times with the best boy. reader is gn!
word count: 1.3k
sleepyhead. (reki x reader)
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Late nights were certainly not a rare occurrence with your boyfriend, Reki. He was filled to the brim with energy and passion that practically flowed out of him like a geyser. Not that you were opposed to that at all, you found that it was one of the qualities that made you fall for him in the first place. Though, you worried that he wasn’t taking into consideration his own personal health during these late night excursions. Take for instance tonight, as it was slowly approaching two thirty am, it seemed that the redhead had no clear intention of stopping his work.
The two of you were cooped up in his workshop behind his house, Reki singing along to some “cool jams” as he called them. In reality, it was his Spotify playlist of the “best 2000’s alternative” music like Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne and Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low. You were barely hanging onto your string of consciousness, the mere idea of sleep sounding like absolute heaven at this very moment. You were propped up on a stool in the corner, the stack of skating magazines Reki had given you to flick through in case you got bored now sat in a neat pile off to the side. You had read each one of them front to back twice already tonight.
It wasn’t that you didn’t love spending time with Reki. You enjoyed listening to his midnight ramblings of whatever came to mind. His ideas for new boards, designs for stickers, and other creative ways to beat his future S opponents were usually his topics of interest. No one really noticed how much of an imaginative person your boyfriend was. He could be impulsive and over excited at times, but his fantastic mind and his willingness to create made your heart soar. Not only that, but he was fairly handy when it came to fixing up and assembling his own boards like he was some mad scientist waiting for one of his many experiments to go right. You indulged him as much as you could, you really did enjoy his company. Even if you would much rather be curled up beside him snuggling in bed rather than hear Reki precariously make his way through the lyrics of Check Yes Juliet for what seemed like the seventh time.
“Reki,” you spoke up finally as the analog clock on the wall indicated the current time of two forty-three am. Reki looked up from Langa’s custom longboard, hair bouncing about despite already being contained by the headband he wore everyday. “Yeah?” he asked, throwing a glance over his shoulder only to see your weary eyelids and tired expression. His entire demeanour melted, lips jutted out in a tiny pout upon seeing his poor baby so tired.
He backed away from his worktable, dancing and tiptoeing across the floor to avoid stepping on any spare parts or tools he had left lying about his mishmash of a workshop.
“Is baby tired?” he cooed, sawdusted fingers beginning to tug and pinch at the corners of your cheeks. You groaned in annoyance, your sleep deprived state causing you to be a tad more irritable at this hour. “Reki,” you repeated in a more serious tone, ember coloured irises meeting your e/c ones. His calloused hands moved to cup your face, warmth enveloping you in a way that felt like home. The scent of pine and the remnants of orange crush soda invaded your senses. He smiled at you with that goofy face of his, the one that Langa constantly teased for being weird. Maybe it was your sleepy nature, but he looked even more gorgeous in the harsh LED lighting of his garage. Tiny strands of his auburn hair fell in front of his face as he tilted his head to the side, his smile growing as he watched your eyes begin to droop.
“Please. Let’s go to bed,” you asked of him as kindly yet firmly as you could. Reki clicked his tongue a bit, thinking for a moment before delivering a cute peck to your nose. “A few more minutes! Then we can head inside, grab a cookie or two and crawl into bed together! It’ll be just a jiffy okay? Here, you can even set an alarm,” Reki was already reaching for his phone in his hoodie pocket so that you could do just as he suggested. He stopped in his tracks as he felt your hands clasp around his hoodie, pulling him close so that you could hug his torso. He laughed at how clingy you could be while being so sleepy, his hand patting atop your head as a form of affection.
“Wow, you really are.. sleeping,” Reki’s voice trailed off as he looked down to be greeted by you completely passed out against him. Your arms held your boyfriend close, your face buried within the fabric of his yellow skater boy hoodie. Soft snores escaped you, your breathing slowed and calm as you finally let your consciousness slip out of your ever fleeting grasp. Reki’s face began to bloom with colour the longer he stared at you, panic setting in as he realized what was truly happening.
You had fallen asleep against him. Oh shit. Oh god. You were asleep against him. That meant you were so comfortable that you just so happened to pass out in his arms. Reki bit back a giddy smile, warmth cascading through him in a form of nothing but love radiating solely for you at nearly three in the morning. His heart thumped rapidly against his rib cage. No matter how long he had been with you, he kept discovering new things about you that made him absolutely lose his mind. You falling asleep against him definitely being one of those many things. You looked so peaceful, so unbothered and safe within his embrace. This warmth you had given him overtook his will to keep working, his hands moving your hair out of the way of your face to kiss your forehead.
“Sorry for making you stay up, sweet baby,” he apologized in a quiet tone. His hands moved your arms to around his neck, using his strength to lift you up and wrap your legs securely around his waist. “I can’t say I’m not grateful for you being here for me, though. You could have left too, yet you stayed here for me,” Reki spoke to your sleeping form. The fact that you had stayed up with him this late made him even more grateful to have you. Reki grunted a bit as he adjusted to the newfound weight of you around him, your hair getting in his mouth and his eyes squinting to find the light switch so that he could flick it off before leaving. Reki was always careful with you, handling you as if you were a sort of glass figurine he barely even had the permission to touch.
“You look so damn cute like this, y’know,” he continued to speak as he maneuvered his way about his house, trying his best to subdue his footsteps and make as little noise as possible. He didn’t want to wake up his mom or little sisters. “Man, I’m so lucky. Seriously really lucky to have someone like you in my life.”
In your sleep, you subconsciously nuzzled your head against his chest. He melted a bit, holding back a tiny noise of happiness as he began to beam like an idiot holding his partner. You were the most amazing person, the person who made him happy every single day without fail, the person who picked him up no matter how much he bailed or got hurt. He loved you more than anything, and he wanted to treat you as well as you treated him. Even if it meant carrying you to bed after a late night of him talking your ear off about skateboarding for three consecutive hours.
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all works © denkamis 2021.
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