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kaleldobrev · 1 year

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Happy Anniversary

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Dean celebrate your 18-year wedding anniversary

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (6x), Fluff

Authors Note: Happy 18th Anniversary to Supernatural which aired on September 13, 2005! In honor of that, here’s a cute little AU where reader and Dean celebrate their 18th wedding anniversary | Neither one of them are hunters | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

March 2000 – A frat house in Lawrence, Kansas

You stood leaning up against the living room wall, a red solo cup in your hand filled with a liquid that was some kind of alcohol mixture (you were told it was fruit punch and vodka – but you couldn’t be 100% sure cause it didn’t taste like either to you). You felt incredibly hot and sweaty despite the tank top and short shorts that you were wearing; the amount of people packed into each room was claustrophobic to you – and you weren’t someone where something like that normally bothered you.

Your roommate (the one that dragged you here saying that it would be fun) was nowhere in sight. This was your roommate’s idea of fun – not yours, this was far from your idea of fun. You didn’t mind being social if you had to be, but all you wanted to do was just be in bed right now watching some TV eating a giant bowl of cereal; your usual dinner of choice when you were too lazy to actually cook anything (you absolutely loved having breakfast for dinner – despite what your roommate thought).

As you stood against the wall thinking of things you much rather be doing, you almost didn’t notice a man coming to stand next to you, he too with a red solo cup. You turned to look at him briefly, flashing him an acknowledging smile so you didn’t have to talk to him – despite him being a rather attractive man. You turned again to face the crowd and took a sip out of your cup. The sound of a man’s voice caught your attention, but you had no idea what he said due to how obnoxiously loud it was. “Did you say something?” You practically yelled to the man next to you – who for some reason was wearing a heavy ass leather jacket that looked obviously too big on him. “And why are you wearing a heavy ass leather jacket in here? I’m wearing a tank top and shorts and I’m still fucking hot.”

A smirk formed on his lips. You really are fucking hot, Dean thought to himself. “I said,” he leaned in close to your ear so he wouldn’t be trying to yell over the music and the crowd, “What’s up.” He then leaned back and took a sip out of his own cup which seemed to be a much darker liquid compared to what you were drinking. Whiskey maybe? You didn’t really know any college students who drank whiskey. You guessed this guy did though.

“Oh!” You said, quietly laughing to yourself. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“It’s alright. It’s hard to hear anything given how quiet it is in here.” He joked.

“Oh definitely.” You joked back. “To answer your question though, not much. I uh, I didn’t want to come.” You answered. “Sorry, is this your frat?”

The man scoffed. “Fuck no.” His response through you off, almost as if he was offended that you even entertained the idea of him even being a part of a frat. “I just know a couple of guys here. Frats aren’t really my thing.” He took another sip from his cup, finally smelling the whiskey on his breath. “You in a sorority?”

“Yeah, no.” You replied, sounding almost as offended as he did. “Nothing against sorority girls, but it’s not really my thing.”

“So, why are you here?” He asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“My roommate dragged me here. She’s the one in the sorority and her boyfriend is one of the frat bros from this house.” You finished the rest of your drink. “This isn’t really my idea of fun. I’m not a…party girl.” You almost mumbled the last two words.

“What is your idea of fun?” Again, he sounded genuinely curious. Maybe he wasn’t looking to just hook up – it was weirdly refreshing.

“Honestly?” You asked, and he nodded. “Anything but this.”

“So if I were to recommend pool or foosball, would that be something you’d find fun?” His suggestions intrigued you.

“Is that what you find fun?” You asked raising a brow, giving him a small smirk.

He grinned back, he too finishing up his drink. “Sweetheart, I can make anything fun.”

“Oh really?” Your voice intrigued. He simply just winked. “Listen, I don’t normally do this kind of thing –”

“Flirt?” He asked bluntly.

“Yeah…That obvious?”

He shook his head. “A little but, to be fair, the reason I came over to talk to you is because I thought you were hot.” You must of given him a look because he chuckled. “What?”

“Nothing just…never been told I’m hot before.” You admitted, it was his turn to give you a rather confused look.

“I don’t believe that.” He replied. He pointed to your cup. “Done?” He asked now reaching for it.

“Yeah.” You replied, handing him your empty cup.

“Are you busy Tuesday night?” His voice sounding a little nervous, yet confident.

“No, why?”

“Want to go on a date? I know a bar just outside of town that has foosball and the best bacon cheeseburgers you’ll ever have.” You did like the sound of that. “Unless foosball and bacon cheeseburgers aren’t your idea of fun.”

You gave him a smile, not wanting to admit to him that those two things were actually your idea of fun. “Well, you did say you can make anything fun.” You said, your tone teasing.

“So is that a yes Sweetheart?” You didn’t like the nickname, but gave it a pass considering how hot he was.

“That’s a yes.” You smiled, holding out your hand. “I’m Y/N.”

He took your hand in his and shook it firmly. “Dean.” He said, flashing you one of the best smiles you’ve ever seen.

September 13, 2023 – Y/N & Dean’s House in Kansas City, Kansas

You woke up to the sound of your alarm – 7:15am on the dot, and let out a tiny groan. You had no intentions of getting up for at least another hour; hating that you actually set an alarm – especially since you purposely took this week off. You felt Dean’s bare arm wrap around your waist and bring you closer to his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. The stubble actually feeling weirdly nice on your bare shoulder. “Good morning.” You said, your voice lazy.

A single kiss was placed on your shoulder, the feeling making you slightly shudder, giving you goosebumps. “Morning Sweetheart.” He replied sounding just as lazy. “I thought you weren’t setting alarms.”

“I forgot to unset it.” You answered. You didn’t have to look to know he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He replied, sounding like he didn’t believe you. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Have rough sex in bed.” You replied, your tone joking but at the same time, this was something you knew you or him wouldn’t actually mind doing today.

“Oh?” He asked. “You know, I do like the sound of that.” He kissed your shoulder again before you turned to face him.

“Why do I hear a but coming?” You asked.

“But…I do have another idea.” He said.

“And what’s that?”

“You remember The Bunker right?” He asked. How could you ever forget? It was the bar that Dean took you on your first date over 23 years ago. You nodded. “Well, I talked to the owner the other day and mentioned that we went there for our first date over 23 years ago and well…I took a shot in the dark and asked if he would be able to close the bar for the night…just for the two of us.”

You raised a brow. You were both impressed and confused. “How much did this cost you?” You asked. You hated that that was the first thing on your mind.

“Nothin’.” He answered almost too quickly. It sounded almost too good to be true.

“Nothing?” You asked in disbelief.

“Nothing.” He smiled.

“Alright. I trust you.” You said.

In reality it did cost Dean something, but it wasn’t money. In exchange for renting out the bar for the night for just the two of them, he agreed to fix the owner’s car.

September 13, 2023 – The Bunker Bar in Lebanon, Kansas

The bar looked exactly as you had remembered it – and smelled just as it did all those years ago. Although you and Dean used to come here almost every single weekend during your junior and senior year of college (you would make a weekend trip out of it), the two of you eventually stopped coming as frequently once you and him moved to Kansas City. The last time you and him had come here was probably 15 years ago. “So, we have the whole place to ourselves uh?” You asked, looking up at your husband – wearing something similar to how he dressed on your first date. It amazed you that he had actually remembered what he had wore. “I don’t normally fuss when it comes to outfits but…I really, really wanted to impress you.” Was something he told you during your wedding vows years later. Although he wanted to impress you, he still wore something similar to how he normally dressed, but the burgundy-colored shirt over the top of a black t-shirt and dark wash jeans was a look that was probably one of your favorites on him. His hair was even slightly gelled the same way.

“We sure do.” He smiled, admiring you. If he was being honest with himself, he never thought he’d be here right now with you. He didn’t think the date was going to go anywhere, despite it wanting to. He really thought someone like you would never of given him the time of day. “I really thought you were fucking with me when you asked me out and told me I was hot.” Was something you said to him during your first date. “I would never fuck with someone like this.” He reassured you.

“Think the bacon cheeseburgers are just as good as we remember?” You asked.

“I think so.” He said almost too quickly, but then rethought his answer. “Then again, I think I’ve only ever had them when I had a few drinks in me already.”

The two of you did your best to try and re-create your first date you had together all those years ago. Playing pool, foosball, indulging on bacon cheeseburgers, chili fries, mozzarella sticks, and beer. Despite loving all of this food, the two of you didn’t eat this food all at once – you knew both of your stomachs were going to hurt the rest of the night or maybe the next day, but neither of you seemed to care.

As the two of you were sitting at one of the tables, empty plates and baskets of food surrounding you, you opened up your purse and took out a box, handing it to Dean. He looked at you and started wiping his hands on a napkin in front of him. “What’s this?” He asked.

“Your anniversary gift.” You replied with a smile. “I know it won’t be as extravagant as this but, I still hope you like it.”

“It’s from you. Of course I’ll love it.” He winked, taking the box from you. He shook the box, trying his best to try and figure out the contents of the box. It sounded almost empty – which confused him.

“Just open it.” You said. “Trust me.”

“So bossy.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes. Unwrapping the box, it was plain and white, almost the size of a necklace box. Lifting the lid his eyes went wide. “No fucking…Y/N.” He looked up at you, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Season tickets.” You smiled. “I know you’ve been wanting them for a while.” You said.

You had gotten him season tickets for the Dallas Cowboys – his favorite NFL team, despite living in Kansas his entire life, then again, you too had lived in Kansas all your life and you were a Patriots fan.

Dean leaned across the table and kissed you, the two of you smiling into it. “I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.” You replied back. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Happy Anniversary.” He smiled back, the two of you kissing again.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn one shot #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader

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wildemaven · 10 months

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don’t drink the punch | dave york

-> pairing: dave york x f!reader

-> word count: 3382

-> content warning: 18+ blog; insecurities, jealousy, holiday party antics, mentions of food and alcohol, office gossip, smut (unprotected p in v, fingering, orgasms), there’s no mention of it but reader is on BC, Dave is divorced from Carol, Soft and Sweet Dave, let’s say this is AU and no murdering is happening (or that at least reader is not aware of), reader is mentioned to be wearing a dress with heels and lingerie, otherwise zero descriptive features for reader, I think that’s everything but let me know if I missed anything

-> notes: more soft Dave because he’s been rotting my brain and making me weak lately. This could be the same universe as Caught Kissing Santa, but also can be read as a stand alone piece too.

-> masterlist / holi-dave masterlist

“I would enjoy these holiday parties a little more if the drinks being served had some actual bite to them. Then I wouldn’t have to give another forced Thank You to my Secret Santa for another gift I’m just going to re-gift to an unsuspecting family member. Did I mention how much I hate these parties?” Cathy shares among the small group of you and a few others, tucked in the corner of this year's CIA Holiday Party.

You laugh into your fluted glass of sparkling apple juice. Mainly because she’s right. These parties tend to be a little boring, as do most office holiday parties. Lacking any sort of decorum that would indicate there’s an actual party taking place. The lobby has far more holiday cheer than this conference room at the moment.

Red streamers taped to the wall above the food table and green plastic table runners haphazardly draped over random surfaces help add some festive color to the drab atmosphere. But the tiny plastic tree with misshapen branches bent in different directions placed in the middle of the long table in the center of the room, really ties everything together. Due to budget cuts, there wasn’t much of an allowance for new decorations, according to Cathy. Thankfully, you had convinced Dave to keep leftovers decorations from last year’s party in the supply closet

Once gifts were exchanged, the party felt like it was dragging on longer than it should. Your feeting aching in the too high heels you always decide on, snacking on nearly stale bread and cold artichoke dip, most of the other items already picked over. You patiently wait for the moment everyone else decides it’s time to call it a night and meet up at a local bar to continue the celebration, all while you make your way home to enjoy the rest of the evening with order in pizza and comfy clothes.

The majority of the party you spend talking with a few friends to pass the time. Catching up on random office gossip, the latest romance rumors that have all departments engrossed in every detail and any other dramatic news that you haven’t heard about. All topics are enough to keep you entertained for the time being.

“Maybe if York wasn’t so tightly wound and put some actual effort into these things, they would be easier to enjoy.” Sheryl adds to the conversation. “Between us, I might have brought a small flask of vodka to add to the fruit punch— should make things a little more interesting.”

“I’m sure his hands are tied, so you can’t really fault him for not allowing the hard stuff. Plus, are you even allowed to drink on site?” You decide to give your opinion. While you do see where they’re coming from, you can’t really hold it against Dave for not wanting to deal with everyone liquored up. And you’re more than certain there’s a zero tolerance policy for alcohol anywhere in the building, clearly Dave is just following the rules. You’re more than fine enjoying several glasses of the fizzy juice, noting to steer clear of the punch bowl.

“By the way— did you see the new tie York got? I’m shocked she made him put it on as soon as he opened it— a little awkward to do in front of everyone. I will say, it looks good though, doesn’t it?” Cathy points to where Dave and one of his much younger Agents are still talking on the other side of the room.

You watch as he holds up the ends of the tie, as if they’re both discussing the color and material of it. He must have said something funny, because she’s laughing now. You no one notices the way you subtly roll your eyes when her hand reaches out to him, holding the side of his forearm as she talks. She must be telling him how hard it was to shop for him, but she just knew he’d love the tie. And how she spent hours searching for the right color— it's black.

She’s cute, whatever her name is. One of the newer recruits you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. She looks to be in her mid to late twenties. A young, confident woman whom you’re definitely not jealous of with all the attention Dave is giving her right now. She’s a good 10 years younger than you if you had to guess. She’s attractive too. Dave seems somewhat oblivious to her slightly flirtatious behavior. Being the nice guy that he is and giving her his undivided attention— makes sense.

“Don’t you think it looks good?” You realize you’re being asked a question about said tie he’s wearing.

“Yeah. It looks really good on him.” That’s a lie. It does look good, but you kind of hate that she gave it to him, given how flirty she's being towards him. It’s not anything you would have ever picked for a Secret Santa gift, especially for Dave. The premise of the gift exchange was supposed to be fun, silly gifts. She should have opted for a coffee mug that says, Tears of my Employees, but that’s just your opinion. “Such a great color, too.” That part is the truth, it is a great color on him.

“Speaking of looking good— that dress on you is killer!” Sheryl shifts the compliments in your direction, catching you off guard and has you feeling slightly embarrassed at the attention.

“Oh! This? It’s just something I picked up earlier this week. I feel a little overdressed though.” You say all demure like, looking down at the way the black material drapes over your body. The dress feels a bit much compared to everyone else’s business suit attire. The high cut of the slit and the low straight neckline with straps holding it onto your body have you sticking out more than you would like.

“I’m sure Dave has told you plenty how beautiful you look in it.” Sheryl says confidently.

“Umm— no he hasn’t mentioned it. I haven’t had the chance to talk to him much today, actually.” You say meekly, looking back over in the direction of where Dave is.

When you go to sneak a glance at him, he’s already looking at you, not caring what the cute younger Agent is saying in that moment. His attention fully focused on you. He gives you a wink, raising his half-empty glass— cheers to you from across the room. You mirror the gesture back to him, pairing it with a genuine smile now painted on your face. He turns his attention back to the younger cute Agent, both of them now joined by a pair of Agents from analytics.

“Well, the night is still young. I’m sure he’ll be giving you all the praise soon enough.” Cathy says, pouring some red punch into her glass.

“Sure.” You smile politely at Cathy and Sheryl. “Umm, if you’ll both excuse me. I need to go use the ladies room.” Deciding you need a minute to yourself. Ditching your glass at the end of the long conference table, you make your way out of the room down the hall. Seeking out a few minutes of quiet to let your mind clear before heading back into the lackluster party. You catch Dave’s profile as you walk by the glass wall of the conference room, paying no mind to anyone outside the little holiday bubble he’s in.

The echoing of your heels clicking against the tiled floor is the only sound you hear as the bathroom door shuts behind you. You debate whether or not you should give your feet a break from being stuck in such a high arched position for so long, deciding against it at the thought of walking nearly barefoot in a bathroom. Placing your purse on the porcelain countertop, you take in your reflection in the mirror. Adjusting the straps on your shoulders, then sliding your hands down the front of your body. Admiring and reminding yourself how good you do look in this dress, it’s the main reason you decide to wear it tonight.

You’re not even sure why you were doubting yourself to begin with. You groan out loud into the unoccupied space for how you were comparing yourself to another woman— a woman you don’t even know. She doesn’t deserve that. Sometimes your insecurities creep in, clouding your mind with lies and false narratives you’ve conjured up. You brush it off. Grabbing your purse, you apologize mentally to yourself as you make your way back out into the hallway. As well as to the young woman who had also been on the receiving end of your near downward spiral. You’ll introduce yourself properly when you get back to the room.

Someone must have found a speaker. A vibrant Christmas song, you can just barely make out, is coming from the conference room. Most likely another one of Sheryl’s attempts to liven up the crowd. You’d given anything to see the look on Dave’s face right now— he has the worst poker face when he’s annoyed.

You’re halfway back to the party when you get distracted. An open door to an empty office has you intrigued. The plaque next to the door reads Dave York - Deputy Director NCS. Your fingers tracing over the carved out letters engraved on to the gold metal.

Laughter pours out of the party filled room at the end of the hall. Your fingers pausing over the last letter of Dave’s name. Glancing back over your shoulder, double checking that you are alone. Shadowy figures are still milling about on the other side of the glass wall. The party far more alive than when you left it. The addition of music was just what it needed.

You decide you’re in no rush to head back. The open door to Dave’s office practically welcoming you in.

Wall to wall shelves behind Dave’s desk have some sort of lighting that adds a soft ambient glow to the otherwise dark room. The rest of the walls are adorned with college degrees and various certificates, years and years of hard work and dedication.

You toss your purse to the leather chair that is off to the side as you make your way to the large desk. It’s made of some dark slab of wood, the sleek angles and metal hardware gives it an elaborate modern look. The desk is cool to the touch, your fingertips following the grain of the wood, as you take in the details of Dave’s space.

There’s a gold frame that catches your eye, twinkling under the dim lighting. You grab it from where it sits next to another photo of Dave’s daughters, Molly and Alice.

You’re instantly drawn to Dave in the photo. The sheer happiness that’s evident in the smile he’s wearing. A smile that he doesn’t wear often at work or for many outside of it. His dark locks brushed off of his face, in a dressed up polished manner. Face cleanly shaven, allowing his dimple to be on full display. There’s also a brightness in his eyes. You admire the way the photographer was able to capture such a beautiful candid moment.

“That’s my favorite picture” You turn to see Dave standing in the doorway of his office. Suit jacket discarded somewhere. His hands in his pants pockets. Head tilted ever so slightly as he slowly scans up your body until his eyes meet yours.

“Hmm… You have to say that, it’s your wedding photo.” You say as a matter of fact. Turning back to his desk, you glance at the framed photo one last time. You finger brushing over the portion of the picture where his handsome face is.

You’re too focused on the happy couple staring back at you, missing the barely audible sound of his shoes drifting over the carpeted floor as he slides up behind you. You nearly gasp at the sensation of his body pressed up against you, butterflies erupting in your stomach. His touch is captivating, evoking a sense of want, desire blooming immediately.

Your body doesn’t shy away from the way his hands settle on your hips. Welcoming the way his lips move over your skin, a gentle trail of kisses that lead upwards from the round of shoulder to the small space below your ear. Your stomach tightens. Goosebumps erupting all over.

“It’s our wedding photo.” A gentle squeeze of your hips as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. He plucks the frame from your grip, setting it back in its designated spot on his desk.

“Are you trying to seduce me in your place of work, Mr. York?” A playful smile forms on your lips as you turn to face him, rucking the skirt of your dress over your hips as you sit on the edge of the desk, the silky material pooling around your waist.

The insecurities you had been feeling earlier in the night, long gone, forgotten under his intense gaze. Your hands lay flat over his documents and files as you lean back into a more seductive position, careful to not disturb their tidiness.

“Fuck, Baby. Looks like you’re the one doing the seducing, Mrs. York?” The new black lace panties and garter set you picked up this week on display for him. His hands glide over the black stockings that stop mid-thigh, his fingers slipping under the garter strap, continuing their upward movement, as he steps into the space between your legs.

“Is it working?” You purr, knowing full well it is based on the grip he has on the apex of your thighs. A small yelp escapes your throat as he slides your lower half closer to the edge so your flush against him— not missing how hard he is under his black slacks. You carefully allow yourself to lay back fully over the desktop.

Your hands catch the end of his new tie. Pulling at it tautly, bringing him down so he’s maneuvering his body over yours. One hand resting next to your head as the other guides one of your legs over his hip, encouraging you to wrap them around him.

“I just got all of these papers in order. Hours of reading and organizing. They’re going to be a mess now.” Dave’s voice is honeyed, holding zero malice in his words.

“I’m sure you can have one of your cute little Agents clean them up for you.” You tease, which only encourages his own seductive movements. Your eyes flutter shut at the way he ruts himself hard against your aching mound. Open mouth kisses delivered across your cleavage.

“Are you jealous, Mrs. York?” You can feel the way his lips perk into a smile on the top of your breast when he asks.

“I-I was. She’s very pretty. But I know who you’re going home with at the end of the night.” Your fingers card through his soft locks at the base of his neck, your head tilted back as he soft nips at your jaw.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think Julie finds you more attractive than she does me. She asked several times who the breathtaking woman in the black dress was.” That was a twist you hadn’t expected.

“Oh! Did you let her down easily?” Dave’s wandering lips are halted by your question. He pulls back, eyes filled with reverence as he looks down at you. The air between you is charged with an unwavering love for each other. His hand gently cups the side of your face, thumb slowly tracing over your bottom lip.

“I told her how you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. How you make my life better. And that I don’t know what I did to deserve such a beautiful woman like you.” He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, a wonderful father to his two girls and an incredible husband— falling in love with him was one of the easiest things you’ve ever done.

“Dave—“ Tears prick at your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, let me take you home so I can unwrap you properly.” He tries to lift himself off of you, but you have other plans— more exciting plans.

Grabbing his face and pulling him back to you, your lips connect with his. Tongues melting into a fiery kiss. No further words needed, as your body does a fine job of conveying exactly what you need from him and you’re grateful he catches on quickly.

His hand slips under the lace material of your panties. Seeking out your pleasure as he alternates between soft deliberate circles over your throbbing clit and working you up with two fingers inside your warm cunt, hitting that delicious spot over and over again, causing you to bite back an explicit moan as you silently tip over the edge.

Rushed movements blur into the next. Working together to free his hard cock from his boxers and pants. Forgoing the effort it takes to remove your elaborate straps and lace, pulling your underwear to the side is all that’s required before Dave is slowly sinking into you.

Shared breaths and discreet whimpers fill Dave’s office. Nails biting into exposed skin with each heady thrust Dave delivers. Papers shuffling beneath you as your body tenses, arching into his. Dave senses you’re close, your vise-like grip has him nearing his own release.

“Dave! —fuckfuckfuck— Baby, I- I’m going to come!” You're breathless, trying your best to keep your voice low, not wanting to be heard by anyone.

“I’m right there —shit!— with you, Sweetheart.”

Your lips connect with Dave’s again as your orgasm surges through you, swallowing each other's moans and triggering Dave to spill inside of you.

The room is nearly quiet again as Dave’s forehead rests on your chest. His skin is warm against yours. Your lungs work effectively to help regulate your breathing to a normal state.

A kiss placed over your heart, then to your lips before he’s slipping out of you. Dave adjusts your underwear back in place as you still lay boneless on his desk, body a tingling mess is bliss.

“That was a first for us. Surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.” He smiles down at you as he tucks himself back into his boxers, tucking his dress shirt and refastening his slacks.

“Hmmm— I’m not opposed to it happening more often— make sure to pencil me in.” You hum softly at him. You reach out for his hand to help you off the desk. His hands instantly catching you and your grip onto his shoulders, your legs a little wobbly when your heels hit the ground.

Your dress adjusted, Dave’s tie situated, compliments exchanged —You look gorgeous in this dress, This tie was a nice choice, she did a great job picking it out— sweat patted down with a tissue— a valiant attempt to look less conspicuous as you both head back to the party hand in hand.

You both decide to stay a longer, indulge in a little more of the festivities, you suggest ordering some pizza for everyone. Dave agrees and mentions also needing to call Carol at some point to tell the girls goodnight.

“You think they will notice we were missing?” Dave asks, his arm wrapping your waist and pulling into his side as you both stop at the door to the conference room. The space is still filled with boisterous laughter as music continues to keep the energy flowing.

“I doubt it. They’re probably too busy discussing how boring your parties are.” You smirk at him.

“Boring? Who’s saying they’re boring?” His head whips over to you. You can already see him mentally running through names, his signature scowl now visible, looking back at his fellow agents.

“That’s for me to know and for you to stress about until the next one. I’m going to go introduce myself to Julie. I’ll see you in a bit.” You kiss his cheek and make your way back inside. You take a few steps before stopping and turning back to him, your dress skirt billowing out around your legs. “Dave, don’t drink the punch.”

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #pedrostories

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smileysuh · 2 years

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roommates

🌙 staring. Hyuck & Mark x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. as Jungwoo's best friend, you have your pick of fratboys to date, including Jeno, who has a huge crush on you. But you're only attracted to Lee's that come in pairs, and you can't get roommates Mark and Hyuck off your mind.

cw/ tw. drug use (weed), threesome, pet names: baby & kitten, praise, degradation, dirty talk, spanking, fingering, oral (f/m receiving), hand job, anal, double penetration, unprotected sex, edging, body worship, cumplay/creampie, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 8.3k

🍭 aus. frat au, stoner au, poly au

☀️ mlist + an. stoner frat boy roommate MarkHyuck- what else can I even say

It’s halfway through the annual Halloween party when a battle of ‘who’s the strongest Avenger’ breaks out amongst a group of frat boys all dressed the part. And soon, the room is watching an arm wrestle between Sungchan and Jeno, two of last years ‘beffiest pledges,’ who are now eager to make a name for themselves amongst their elders.

Jungwoo takes a sip of his drink, and then, in classic best friend fashion, he asks you for the umpteenth time; “Are you sure you don’t want Jeno?”

“Yeah,” you respond, swallowing thickly and tearing your gaze off of beautifully sculpted biceps- “Are you sure you don’t want Jeno?”

The tall engineering major rolls his eyes at the insinuation, clicking his tongue. “I know who you want instead,” he reminds you, “and I don’t like it.”

“What’s not to like?” you laugh, enjoying the way Jungwoo reacts every time he remembers your most recent ‘campus crush’ is not one, but two of his frat brothers- and they’re roommates.

“Mark is a great guy,” your best friend says smoothly, taking a large sip of his drink while he scans the crowd- “Hyuck is a fuck.”

Your grin widens, and you watch Jungwoo down the rest of his mystery fruit punch - which had mostly been vodka - then you hold out your own cup of water for him when he immediately teeters over, grabbing at your shoulder to steady himself.

“And you, my friend,” - you say, a determined devil intent on leading the man dressed as an angel up to his room sooner rather than later - “are drunk.”

It’s past midnight by the time you leave Jungwoo’s room, and you immediately head off towards the place you know you’ll find Mark and Haechan.

The stoners are predictable by now; they hang out at a party, heading outside or up to their room for a hit from various bongs, dab rigs, vape pens, joints and the like- until slowly- they just stay in their room.

The last time you’d come through here with Jungwoo, Mark had been kind enough to show you how to take a hit from the bong, and you’d ended up hanging out for a while. To your disappointment that night, Haechan hadn’t arrived until later, Jeno in tow-

But this time, you’re surprised to find Mark and Hyuck alone in their room.

The first of the two is splayed across his bed, arm bent, hand behind his head- he looks comfortable, a casual dude listening to music while he toys with the little fidget he’s playing with between his fingers. He’s still wearing blue jeans and his hockey jersey- Mark’s never been known to go to extremes for Halloween.

Hyuck, meanwhile, is at the desk by the window, seated in his gaming chair with his head back- eyes closed- he’d come to the party as Joaquin Phoenix's ‘The Joker’, and while his makeup has been removed, the red suit is still an attention grabber.

“Are you two busy?” you ask.

Now you have their attention, and while Mark licks his lips, opening his mouth like he’s about to say something- Hyuck beats him to the punch: “Not busy. Come in, what’s up?”

“Jungwoo fell asleep and I just- are you sure you’re not busy?” you honestly can’t believe they don’t have at least one girl in the room already-

Mark and Haechan have to be two of the hottest guys in the frat- or, while you’ve heard some people don’t instantly find themselves attracted to Mark - he’s been voted ‘most husband’ by the sorority girls at Winter Formal for two years in a row for a reason-

“We’re seriously not busy, come in,” Hyuck laughs, flashing you a grin. “Jungwoo fell asleep?”

“Uh huh,” you step into their bedroom, closing the door gently behind you. Then you head to the foot of Mark’s bed, continuing, “I thought he’d pass out easy, but tonight he took a while, needed head scratches and everything-”

“I’ve heard about the head scratches,” the Canadian smiles softly, sitting up and tucking his feet closer to himself so you can have at least half of his bed to sit on.

“Jungwoo doesn’t keep his mouth shut about anything,” you say fondly- of course he’d tell his friends about your ‘cuddle time’.

“He’s also still very serious every time he tells us the two of you aren’t dating,” Hyuck muses, “despite the head scratches, cuddles and matching halloween costumes.”

You settle against the wall with a laugh- the matching angel/devil costume had been fun to do this year with Jungwoo- he’d even bleached his hair blonde for it- “And I’ll be serious right now when I also tell you we’re not dating.”

“Okay- and what do you think about Jeno?”

The sudden shift in Hyuck’s questioning has you nearly gasping in shock- and you end up laughing again. “You are not wingmanning Jeno at me right now-”

“Okay,” Haechan holds his hands up, “I’m not.”

“Now’s probably a good time to tell you,” Mark speaks up again, “we broke our bong and we only have the dab rig tonight.”

“Sure Mark- go straight to the fact that we don’t have the one thing that she’s here to get from us-” Hyuck rolls his eyes.

And now it’s Mark’s turn to hold his hands up in defence- “I’m just saying-”

“I’ll try the dab rig,” you tell them, which immediately breaks up the commotion, and draws two pretty sets of brown eyes to you again. “If that’s okay.”

“Have you ever tried one of these?” Hyuck asks, lifting the glass device much smaller than the bong you’d used last time.

You shake your head.

“Have you seen one used?” Mark questions next.

Another shake of your head.

“You’re in for a treat tonight then,” Hyuck grins, dipping into the Halloween spirit.

“And no tricks,” Mark adds, but it feels more like a warning directed towards his roommate than an assurance for you. “Here, he’ll get a dab ready for himself, and I’ll talk you through what he’s doing.”

Sometimes you forget that Mark is older than Haechan- who is the type to demand to have the last say in most things. Mark, meanwhile, generally seems happy to blend in with everyone else, following the flow of things-

It’s nice to see him step up like this, even while obviously high.

Or perhaps it’s the weed that’s giving the generally anxious frat boy a boost of ego?

“So instead of grinding up weed, like with a bong, for the dab rig, we have use what we call shatter- but there’s a less intense version called butter that I’ll give you when you try-” Mark explains as his friend presses a thin metal tool to a tiny, fragile sheet of orangey crystallines on a piece of parchment. “Hyuck doesn’t clean his tools, so usually they’re sticky enough for him to just touch the shatter and have them stick-”

“I don’t clean them specifically so they do stick,” retorts the man who does his craft diligently, lifting the metal tool with the shatter attached to one end before setting it to the side.

“Sure you do,” Mark laughs, and you see - for a brief moment - the glimmer of affection in his eyes.

This must be something they disagree on often.

“Then this,” Hyuck continues, lifing the next tool involved in this insanely complicated ‘dab rig’ process, “is the flamethrower instead of a lighter.”

“Watch how he’s gotta press down on the button, and then the notch, then hit the safety lock-”

“This is so complicated-” you laugh, knowing there’s no way you’re going to be able to replicate the process-

“Nah,” Hyuck shrugs, “you just gotta hold it under this thing here: on a bong it’s the bowl where you put the weed, but on the rig it’s called a banger and basically what we do - once this is hot - is put the shatter into it, and it will evaporate from the heat and turn into smoke, which we breathe in-”

“But the banger has to be hot enough or the hit won’t be as good,” Mark warns you, “so we heat it for like, thirty seconds, or until it’s hot-”

“Who knew there were so many details to being a stoner,” you muse in shock, blinking at the instructions that just fly by you-

“It’s okay,” Mark says, offering you a smile, “I’ll help you when you take your hit, all you’ll have to do is breathe and I’ll tell you when to stop.”

“Like last time,” you nod, transfixed when Hyuck finally takes his hit.

There’s quite a lot of smoke that fills in the tiny glass contraption, and lots of bubbles- Hyuck breathes everything in, and he props the window open, letting out a massive cloud that disappears into the cold, dark night-

“Fuck-” he says, letting out a dry cough before reaching for his water. “Don’t-” cough, “forget-” cough, “to have your water ready.” The man they call ‘Hyuck’ takes a large swig from his bottle before pushing away from the table and standing up.

He turns, takes two steps, and faceplants onto his bed, letting out a groan.

“It’s that strong?” you ask in shock.

You’ve seen Hyuck take some pretty big bong rips-

“We’ve been going at the rig all night,” Mark tells you, replacing Haechan in the gaming chair so he can get a dab on the go for you.

You like the idea of the two of them going at something… together.

“So this is butter,” Mark holds out a small blue canister, showing you the buttery texture of the product inside when you come to sit closer. “Scooping it out is easy, here, we’ll use my clean tool-”

You watch him pull out a little yellow, glass wiggly stick with a hand on one end, and a point on the other.

The butter is scooped up easily, gently sticking itself to the glass tool in a way that shatter could never-

“So I’ll heat up the banger again, and we don’t have to rush it or anything- the glass stays hot, so, I’ll hold it up for you and yeah-” Mark rambles off while he gets the torch going, and his eyes are fixed on his task. “When you breathe in, we use the flat hand part of the tool overtop of the banger to help you inhale easier- and the most important part, is just remember,” he looks up at you with a smile, “All of this is legal in Canada.”

“You’re cute,” you grin, unable to help yourself from verbalizing the comment that so often passes through your thoughts during your dealings with Mark lee.

He’s visibly taken aback by your comment, lips parting, ears turning pink-

And you’re quick to rectify yourself, “I mean- that’s funny. It’s cute when you’re funny- I mean, you’re funny when you’re Canadian- so I guess, you’re cute when you’re Canadian, and you’re always Canadian so just… take the compliment-” you groan, “Jeez, I’m not even high yet-”

Mark laughs, shaking his head and looking down as he flicks off the torch.

“Okay, are you ready?” he asks, adjusting the dab rig on his left palm, the mouth piece presented to you while he holds the buttered tool in his right hand.

“Yes,” you respond, leaning forward, briefly looking down at the way your knees press together- painfully aware of the stoner’s thighs unintentionally caging you in-

“Let out a deep breath,” Mark instructs, “and when you’re ready, bring your mouth to the mouthpiece to breathe in, I'll do the rest.”

You hold eye contact with Mark while you follow the instruction, bringing your lips to the rig as he lowers the yellow glass wrapped in buttered weed into the banger.

“Breathe in,” he says calmly, and you can’t help but reach out a hand, gently placing your fingers on his left forearm to steady yourself whilst you inhale the driest air ever-

You can’t help but close your eyes and you see Mark quickly adjust the tool in between his fingers, the flat hand coming atop the banger- suddenly, breathing in is a little harder-

“Okay,” the rig is pulled away from your mouth, “you got it all-”

You quickly release the cloud of smoke you’d just inhaled.

At first, you’re struck by the sensation of being hot. Then your throat is constricted, tightening- like you’re being choked, and you let out a gasp-

“Water- here’s the water-” Mark Lee’s voice is in the periphery of your awareness, and something is placed in your right hand- “straw-” something touches your lips and you recougnize the plastic- sucking at it-

The feeling of cold water streaming down your throat allows you to breathe again, and you take a struggled gasp-

“That’s it-” you feel the bed dip next to you and a hand rubbing at your back- which helps you ground yourself as you get your breathing right- coughing roughly-

“You gave her too much,” Hyuck calls distantly, and the rubbing at your back intensifies.

“I’m ok!” you insist weakly, eyes still closed, body overwhelmed by sensations- “I just gotta-” you choke again and take another sip of your water-

Things are slowly starting to be less hot, and you’re able to take a better breath-

A tingly sensation begins in the tips of your fingers, and you let out a small sound-

The hand on your back removes itself, and you have the brilliant idea of laying down, head swirling in an eyes closed darkness as you flop yourself backwards onto the bed, letting out a sigh-

“You’re gonna feel real good now,” Hyuck’s laughter is delightful, and it makes you laugh too, enjoying the feeling of being enwrapped by- air?

“Your water is still in your hand if you need it,” Mark’s soft reminder makes warmth spread through your chest, and a moment later the bed dips again, signalling the Canadian has left your side-

But you don’t want him to go.

So you open your eyes for the first time since taking your dab, and are shocked to find your vision at first blurred by tears-

You blink them away-

“Fuck are you okay?” Mark’s in front of you again, sitting in his gaming chair, a look of concern on his face.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, shocked by the sound - by the feeling - of your own voice. Things feel fuzzy when you lift a hand to wipe away the tear track- “I think I coughed up a lung.”

Beyond Mark, Hyuck has sat up. “At least you’re pretty when you cry.”

Of course he has a dacriphilia kink-

“Ignore him,” Mark says, “here,” and then he’s reaching out, cupping the side your cheek and brushing his thumb against your skin, brushing away the tears you’d missed when you’d dragged your own hand across your face.

You watch Mark, holding your breath- entire body focused on the warmth of his palm- and then his hand is pulling away and you’re missing him again.

“You good?” Mark asks- and you realize you’ve just zoned out a little while staring at his pretty brown eyes and kissable lips-

You swallow thickly and nod, the weightless feeling returning when you pull your gaze from the Canadian to look around the room.

It’s a pretty standard frat house bedroom- but it’s unique to the two men who live in it. Haechan’s side is messier, which doesn’t come as much of a shock. His walls are covered in layered posters of all sorts of things- video games, cars, women, movies-

“We should watch a scary movie.”

Two pairs of eyes swing to you, then Hyuck and Mark exchange a glance-

“I’m not too great with horror movies, if I’m being honest-” Mark admits, setting a dab of butter down in favour of rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.

“But we could watch something scary-” Hyuck says, “I could grab Jeno-”

“No-” you’re quick to shut the idea down, “I’m sure Jeno’s busy- and I want Mark to stay-”

“Even if Jeno’s busy, he’d come watch something,” Hyuck tells you.

“What’s with everyone and Jeno tonight?” you ask in exasperation. “First Jungwoo- now you-”

Mark’s eyes widen. “Jungwoo was trying to set you up with Jeno too?”

“So you are trying to set me up with Jeno!”

“The dude has a massive crush on you-” Hyuck says- realizing his mistake the moment the words leave his mouth.

You groan. “We’re not that close-”

“You don’t have to be that close to someone to see their value,” Mark notes thoughtfully, turning the torch on to begin to heat the dab banger.

“Yeah but it sounds like she doesn’t see Jeno’s,” Hyuck snickers.

“Maybe he’s not my type,” you suggest, heart thumping loudly in your chest at the turn this conversion has taken-

But luckily- instead of asking for a description of your type, Hyuck simply says “Jeno is everyone’s type” and lays back down with a groan.

Your eyes find Mark, and the two of you exchange a glance and knowing smile, then Mark returns his attention to the dab rig.

“By the way-” you find yourself saying, “I don’t mean to intrude- if you guys need to kick me out to sleep-”

“Nah,” Mark is quick to shake his head, “you’re good, Hyuck’s bed time is three am.”

“Haven’t even had dinner yet,” the younger of the roommate stoners agrees.

“You should eat then,” you suggest, looking at the pretty man lying on his bed while Mark takes a hit from the rig.

“Who are you, my mom?” Hyuck scoffs loudly- only for both of your attention’s to be captured by the coughing Canadian-

“Water-” you say, handing the bottle to him-

“I’ll grab something to eat in a bit,” Hyuck says, standing up from his bed, “after another hit.”

You watch with a smile as Hyuck forces a very blatantly high Mark out of the gaming seat, and the stoner joins you on the bed, lids droopy, grin dopey-

“You okay?” you ask when Mark sways slightly-

He nods. “M’ perfect.”

“Mark’s a dopey stoner,” Hyuck states, which earns him the grand reaction of: Mark slowly and gently pushing at his leg and muttering ‘hey’ meekly.

“I like the vibes of dopey stoners,” you retort, feeling the need to defend the very soft boy sitting next to you.

“And dopey stoners must just love you-” Hyuck sighs, “Jungwoo, Jeno-” he takes a hit from his rig, letting out a big puff of smoke a moment later, “Milk-”

“Milk?” you ask.

Hyuck points at Mark with a lazy grin, repeating the word “milk” with an emphasis on the K.

“Okay!” Mark stands up suddenly, “time for another dab!”

“Yeah- dopey stoners think you’re the greatest,” Hyuck concludes with a sly smirk before he belly flops onto his bed again, grabbing at his phone-

The music plays louder, and you don’t mind.

Your attention shifts to Mark while he gets another dab ready, and you enjoy the pinkish tint to his ears. He really is the cutest little stoner-

“Do you want another hit before I do mine?” Mark asks. “I’m probably going to take enough to just- lay back and look at the ceiling for a bit-”

“That sounds nice,” you smile.

“Dope,” the Canadian adjusts the amount of butter he scoops with the tool, taking substantially less for you than he would for himself.

He repeats the process he had before, and within no time at all, you’re once again getting prepped to take a hit.

“Breathe out,” Mark’s calming instructions aren’t needed, but they’re welcome all the same. “And when you’re ready…”

You’re very aware of his gaze on your lips when you take the hit, and Mark helps you clear the smoke like last time, pulling the rig from you with a “done” when you’ve inhaled all there is to inhale.

This time, you cough through your release of the smoke- it’s more painful, your lungs and throat constricting- but when you take a sip of water, it helps, taking away the choking feeling to leave you with nothing but warmth.

You lay down softly on Mark’s bed with a hum of affirmation, and a moment later, you hear the torch fire up again.

It’s nice to just- let yourself drift away for a bit.

You’re in a good place, with two people who - all things considered on Hyuck’s end - are safe.

You can just exist for a while, with no stress.

Life is nice.

Life is happy-

The bed dips and you feel Mark Lee lay down next to you, a small sigh of relief just audible over the music.

It feels so good to be with people like this.

Simply existing-

“Maybe I do need food,” Hyuck says suddenly.

Both you and Mark lift your heads to watch the younger frat boy get off the bed and go to the door.

“Where are you going?” Mark calls.

“Mcdonalds- maybe the kitchen-” Hyuck considers it for a moment, “who knows.”

He closes the door behind him when he’s gone and Mark laughs, leaning back against the bed and letting out a sigh. Then he turns to you. “Are you comfortable?”

“We could lay down on the bed properly instead of with our knees bent off the side like this,” you suggest.

Mark swallows. “Do you- uh, do you want to be against the wall or-” his skin flushes that pretty pink shade, “I mean- I dont want you to feel trapped- against- against the wall- cuz-”

You giggle a little at the man who’s now motioning with his hands, trying to visually show you what he’s not able to communicate so well with his words-

“Cuz when you lay down-”

You place your hand on his forearm again, and he’s quick to stop speaking, giving you his attention.

“How about you just sit up, I’ll get comfortable and you can do whatever after?”

“Good idea,” he nods, following through and giving you the space to lay down properly on his small, twin sized bed.

You turn so your back is to the wall, and then you let out a contented sigh, snuggling against one of Mark’s pillows. “Okay, you can come now.”

It takes you a second to see the second meaning of your words, and you realize that while high, you’ve fallen into the same trap as Mark had earlier when he’d gotten flustered about having you against the wall.

“Are you gonna lay on your side like that?” Mark asks, looking down at you.

You can tell from the flush of his skin that he’d heard the double entendre in the statement ‘you can come now’, and it’s affected him the same way it’s flustered you.

“Yeah-” you blink, “is that okay?”

“Yeah,” the frat boy mirrors your position, adjusting his own pillow before meeting your eyes. “Is this okay?”

“Uh huh,” you smile.

“Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, Milk.”

You enjoy the gentle little grin- the way he averts his eyes at the teasing nickname.

“You know how, earlier,” - Mark swallows to compose himself - “you said that Jungwoo can’t keep his mouth shut about anything?”

“Uh oh-”

“Trust me it’s not bad-”

“It better not be-” you groan, already moving to cover your face with the pillow- “What did he say?”

“Just that- hey, take that away for a sec-” he tugs at the thing shielding him from seeing the embarrassment on your face, because you know where this is going-

Maybe you’re just paranoid from the weed- maybe he’s not about to tell you that your best friend spilled his guts about your crush on him-

“Seriously-” Mark laughs, “come on- you said I could tell you anything, right?”

You sigh, moving away the pillow.

“There we go,” he smiles. “Look- I was with Jungwoo, one on one-”

“You were cuddling, weren’t you?” you tease immediately- knowing exactly how Jungwoo gets when a little drunk and cuddled- he’ll spill all the secrets-

“Maybe we were cuddling…” - Mark’s cheeks flare with colour - “but I asked about you and Jeno- you know Jeno has a thing for you- and Jungwoo just kind of let it slip that you only have a thing for Lee’s that come in pairs-”

“He said what?!” you bolt upright in shock, eyes widening-

This is so much worse than you could have imagined-

“Yeah, I thought it was weird at first too- and, he told me to forget about it- but, I mean,” Mark sits up, clearing his throat before he concludes, “the only Lee’s that really come in a pair are me and Hyuck, cuz we’re roommates.”

“Mark, I-” you bite at your tongue, “I’m not sure what to say-”

“You don’t have to say anything-” Mark assures you, “I guess- could I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“I can’t speak for Haechan- but,” the Canadian wets his lips with that anxious tongue of his, “I mean, I know I’m interested- and I guess I’m trying to figure out if the whole line about ‘Lee’s that come in pairs’ means you’re a threesome kind of person or-”

“What are we talking about in here?” Hyuck asks as he barges into the room again, a bag of chips in hand.

After recent hits of a dab rig, and being already struck by this interaction with Mark- Hyuck’s sudden reapperance makes you short circut, and you sit there, blinking at the man staring you down-

“God, how high are you fuckers?” Haechan is quick to close and lock the door behind him, and a moment later he’s pulling up beside Mark’s bed, seated in the gaming chair. “Is one of you going to say something?”

Hyuck is really pretty too, actually-

“I heard the word threesome-” he says, looking between you and Mark like a detective-

“Jungwoo told Mark I only like ‘Lee’s that come in pairs’ because you guys are roommates, and Mark was just saying he’d be down to fuck me-”

The man sitting next to you gasps in shock- “What? I didn’t say-”

“You said you’d be interested,” you correct yourself, “same thing.”

“That’s a super oversimplified retelling of events-” Mark insists-

“Jesus Mark, what are you, an English Major?” Hyuck laughs, “a ‘super oversimplified retelling-’ dude, it’s Halloween, and Jungwoo’s hot best friend is propositioning us-”

“Mark propositioned me by bringing it up-” you correct.

“Right-” Hyuck nods, turning to his friend with a grin, “Nice going, Milk.”

The stoned music theory student blinks. “Thanks?”

“So,” the younger of the two focuses his attention on you again, “you only like Lee’s that come in pairs, huh?”

Your mouth suddenly feels dry, and you choke a little before sipping at your water, clearing your throat before responding in a similar way to Mark- with a confused, “Yes?”

“You guys act like these are hard questions,” - you hate it when Hyuck laughs at you, because he shouldn’t be this pretty while chuckling at your expense - “I’ll make it easy on everyone. Do either of you think you’re too high to make decisions?”

After a quick glance at Mark, both of you shake your heads.

Hyuck eyes you both- gaze lingering on your red costume. “So you’re both good?”

This time, it’s a nod, and it makes the gemini grin, shifting closer to the bed.

“And if I take another hit, then go down on the devil-” his hand strokes your thigh, “that’s okay too, yeah?”

“Yes please-” you breathe, shocked at how fucking suave Hyuck can be, utilizing your costume in a pickup line and everything-

“You should give Markie some attention first, though-” the gemini’s tone quickly shifts, and the Canadian next to you let’s out an annoyed sound at the nickname- shifting in a way that has Hyuck scattering to the table for his dab like the mischievous gremlin he is.

Then Mark turns to you- lips parting to say something-

But you cut him off with a kiss before a word can leave his mouth-

Because Hyuck is right. If he’s going to get to eat you out in a moment- the least you can do is get a taste of Mark first.

While sitting side by side doesnt make for the easiest position to kiss the pretty frat boy, it only takes Mark reciprocating for a few seconds before you decide to swing your leg over his hips and straddle him instead.

Mark let’s out a small groan, his hands finding your hips, “Is this really happening?”

You laugh, grinding down against him- and the feeling of his cock pressing hard against the confines of his jeans has you letting out a happy sound next. “Yes- Mark, this is really happening,” you assure him.

“I love how he’s the one acting shocked when he’s the one who propositioned us.”

“I didn’t proposition you-” Mark groans, looking past your shoulder at the man turning on the torch to heat the banger.

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Mark?” you nip at his earlobe and the man beneath you shudders, fingers flexing against your hips. “Aren’t you going to pay attention to me instead of arguing with Hyuck?”

“Yeah, Mark.”

With a groan of annoyance, the elder Lee cups your jaw, bringing your mouth to his again.

The kiss is deeper this time, his tongue swiping across your lower lip before teasing past your teeth. His hands shift you on his hips, forcing you down while he pushes up-

You release a groan of pleasure, tanging one hand in his hair while the other grabs at the jersey keeping his body from you-

But you can feel the muscle under your fingers- and you’re reminded that Mark’s costume isn’t really a costume at all; it’s his own jersey.

He might look and act like a sweetheart, but this guy is a frat boy hockey player-

You hear Hyuck exhale at the same time you feel his breath against the back of your neck, and when you pull away from kissing Mark to open your eyes, you see that the youngest Lee has taken it upon himself to create a dab cloud around your bodies-

“Dude-” Mark groans from below you, immediately waving a hand to clear some of the air-

“What?” Hyuck plays innocent even while caging you against Mark, his lips teasing past your throat- “You guys looked like you were having so much fun- I got eager to join.”

This feels like a partial truth. Hyuck’s hands are certainly eager as they play with the fabric of your shirt, but you have no doubt he could have exhaled his smoke out the window before coming to join on the bed.

“Look- I had a great idea,” Hyuck insists, nosing at your jaw. “Come on- someone ask me what the idea is.”

Mark takes the bait with a sigh; “What’s the idea?”

“Well I was thinking,” - Hyuck begins to slide your shirt up your torso - “seeing as our little kitten likes both of us so much- she might enjoy having you in her mouth while I eat her out.”

The idea has your pussy throbbing with need-

“Are you into butt stuff, baby?” Hyuck asks as he pulls your shirt off. “Gonna get on your knees and suck on Mark while I lick this pretty pussy-” he slips a hand between your legs, “but you’ll let me fuck with your ass too, yeah? You’re besties with Jungwoo, so I assume you know all about butt stuff-”

“Oh my god-” you groan-

You feel like maybe you should defend your friend a little- but this is what you get for being besties with a known ass eater-

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Hyuck prompts, and you feel him grin against your throat before he licks a stripe of your skin happily, “that’s what I thought.”

“Fuck-” you whimper at the feeling of being caged in between two of the hottest guys on campus, and you can’t help but be greedy, hand seeking out the front of Mark’s pants-

“Shit-” now it’s Mark’s turn to cuss as you cup at him through his jeans, outlining the hard cock pressing against it’s confines-

“Aw, you’re both feeling pretty sensitive, huh?” Hyuck chuckles; “Cute.”

Mark cups your face, bringing your lips to his for a fevered kiss while he grinds forward, rutting against your hand-

“Take this off-” you groan, tugging on Mark’s jersey- breaking your kiss with him in favour of turning your head to the side-

Hyuck picks up on your motion and meets you half way, shifting behind you- his hand leaves your pussy to press two fingers to your jaw, helping you turn so your lips can finally meet-

The grip on your jaw intensifies and Haechan groans, mouth opening, tongue tasting past your own-

And you can feel Mark removing his shirt, his hands finding your hips to alert you when the task is complete, and a moment later, he’s pressing open mouthed kisses to your throat-

It feels amazing to be needed.

Hands are everywhere, Hyuck and Mark playing a tug of war like game with your body and attention.

Despite Hyuck being a fabulous kisser, now that Mark’s shirtless, you’re more than eager to get to work, to get your mouth on Mark-

To get Hyuck’s mouth on you.

Breaking the kiss with Hyuck makes the man behind you groan, but as you lean in to worship Mark’s chest, and begin your descent, Hyuck’s mouth finds your shoulder, and you know he’s about to embark on a similar trajectory-

You’re struck by Mark’s body, and you can’t help but trace the lines of muscle on his abdomen while dragging your tongue across his pectoral-

Mark shivers when you brush by his nipple, and you can’t help but giggle, triggering Hyuck into a chuckle too- “I forgot Mark has sensitive tits.”

“Hey-”

You enjoy the banter between the two of them, it takes some of the pressure off while you work on undoing Mark’s fly-

“What else is sensitive, Mark?” you toy, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his jeans to shimmy them down-

“Holy shit-”

“You can say that again,” Hyuck breathes from behind you, and he grabs at your ass, squeezing it- “Are you into pain?”

You’re aware that he’s asking if you’re up to be spanked, but the way he’s phrased the question- ‘are you into pain-’ it has your toes curling with sinful delight.

“Yes- Hyuck- please-”

Even though you’ve already undone Mark’s jeans, and are working on getting them down- Hyuck tears your own pants down your legs in record time, and you’re the first person to be bare to the room.

The impact on your ass comes immediately after, the sting of skin on skin contact making you jolt, a gasp tumbling out of you.

“Yeah- of course you’re into pain,” Hyuck says smoothly, brushing over your stinging skin with newfound gentleness- “I always knew you would be-”

“Always?” Mark gasps when you finally get his briefs down, his cock springing to attention by his abdomen-

“Uh huh, always,” Hyuck confirms, and you feel the bed shifting behind you- then his hot breath fans across your entrance, making you twitch-

“Even though you were trying to set her up with Jeno until like- twenty minutes ago?” Mark asks, stuttering a little over his words when you grab the base of his cock-.

“Oh, so I can’t be a good friend and a dirty fuck at the same time?” the gemini counters, spreading your ass cheeks with two hands before kitten licking at your folds-

“Hyuck-” you gasp, arching your back in an effort to push your pussy closer to his face while you wrap your mouth around Mark-

“Fuck-” hands brush the hair out of your face, and you enjoy the soft touch-

It’s hard to know where to focus- on your worship of Mark, or Hyuck’s worship of you- his tongue pressing into your hole-

“Feels so good-” Mark breathes from above you as you bob your head on his length.

It does.

There’s nothing like the feeling of having both Mark and Hyuck-

To please while being pleased-

Lips suction around your clit and you whine, mirroring the motion by suckling on the head of Mark’s cock, which earns a groan from him too-

“Oh my god-” Mark’s noises are having a growing impact on you- the way his voice dips, the way he continues to help you with your hair, warm, gentle hands guiding your head-

Hyuck’s tongue leaves your pussy in favour of burrying two fingers into you, and you moan louder around the cock in your mouth.

“Fuck- look at you kitten- such a pretty little cock whore for Mark-” Hyuck groans, “and squeezing my fingers so good when I call you names- you were made for this, huh? Made to be fucked?”

You're delirious with need, and with your mouth stuffed, all you can do is make whimpery noises of affirmation while your pussy squelches from Hyuck’s fingers and words.

“Dude-”

“What, Mark?” Hyuck toys, but you already know what Mark’s going to say-

Because the same thought is running through your head-

“If you keep dirty talking- we’re going to cum way too quick-”

“Yeah?” Hyuck laughs. “If you want me to stop, you’ll have to beg for me to stop, Mark.”

He-

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Hot breath fans across your pussy again, and Hyuck’s mouth is on you a moment later, tongue flicking at your clit-

“Fuck-” Mark groans, hips jolting when you suck on him harder-

Then Hyuck’s wet muscle is at your other hole, and the feeling of a wet stripe being licked around your ass has you tingling with a foreign type of pleasure-

“That’s it,” Hyuck grunts behind you, and you hear him spit before you feel it land on your skin, quickly collected by a finger that he easily dips past your tight ring of muscle- “relax for me, baby.”

You pull your mouth off of Mark to take a breather, wrapping your hand around his cock to languidly stroke him while Hyuck works a digit in and out of you.

Mark’s breathing gets a little steadier too, but your attention is keeping him on edge, keeping him flooded with just enough pleasure-

“Fuck, your ass is so fucking nice-” Hyuck’s spare hand lands on your skin again, making you gasp in surprise- and you push your hips back, eager for more.

“You like that, baby?” Hyuck prompts, adding another finger. “Like having me knuckles deep in your ass while you edge Mark like a little fucking devil?” he grabs the backstrap of your red bra, pulling it back so when it’s released, it slaps to your skin, another hit of pain that has your toes curling.

“God, I love it so much-” you whimper, closing your eyes and nestling in against Mark’s thigh, continuing to work your hand up and down his hard length-

“Yeah? Should I make you cum like this?” Hyuck asks, “Or are you gonna be nice to Mark and let us fuck you now?”

“Fuck-” Mark groans above you- “I can- I can wait- make her cum-”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Hyuck’s mouth is on your clit a second later, two fingers continuing to work open your ass while he tongue fucks your pussy-

“Holy shit-” you whimper, clenching your eyes shut-

“Cum for us- you can do it, cum,” Mark’s soft voice gives you something like whiplash given the situation, and the soft graze of his fingers past your cheek feels just domestic enough to throw you over the edge.

The sound that leaves you as you cum is practically primal- a cross between a whine and a moan that only gets louder as Hyuck works you through your orgasm, his mouth unrelenting on your core, fingers buried in your ass-

Waves of wonderful, warm, sensation wash over you-

As you start to come down, Hyuck’s tongue leaves your clit, but his digits continue in your hole- “Was that good, kitten?” he practically purrs. “And now that I’ve stretched you out- you’ll let me fuck you, right?” his lips tease your asscheek, and he bites at you gently, letting out a growl. “Let me fuck you in the ass while you give Mark a taste of this perfect fucking pussy-”

“Please-”

“That’s our girl-” Hyuck breathes, finally relenting behind you. “You two should get naked- it’s gonna take me a sec… and I’m going to have another hit, are you guys good?”

“I’m good,” Mark says, “wanna remember all of this-”

“Trust me, I’m planning on remembering this too-” Hyuck laughs, “just- magnified. You want anything, kitten?” his hand gently taps by your ass.

Like Mark, you say no, already too focused on the Canadian laying down and kicking off his jeans-

“You don’t want anything?” the man who’s gotten off the bed continues to press- “not even like- a condom?”

You’re already practically mounting Mark now- and the two of you stop momentarily, eyes meeting- then you’re laughing because “out of the two of you, I had not expected Hyuck to be the one reminding us about protection-”

“Yeah, sorry-” the frat boy below you says, “I was gonna ask- I’m clean-”

“And I’m on the pill,” you assure him, grabbing Mark’s face so you can press your lips to his own.

His cock is caught between your bodies, and your rub your pussy against him, satisfied that he’s still a little lubed by left over spit from when you’d had him in your mouth-

It’s as simple as reaching a hand between your bodies and lining him up with your entrance, then you sink down on him, earning a groan that you eat up-

Hyuck let’s out a whistle, “Fuck, this is so hot-” and you hear the torch turn on.

He’s watching you ride his best friend while he heats up his rig to take a dab.

“Can we take this off?” Mark asks, tugging at your bra- the one thing you’d forgotten to remove before straddling him.

“Yes- anything you want-” you tell him, moving your lips to his neck while he undoes the clasp by your spine. The fabric falls to the side a moment later, and then you’re sitting up and tossing it away, giving Mark complete access to your boobs.

“Fuuuuuuuck-” Mark groans, swallowing thickly as his gaze drags across each strip of newly exposed skin- “you’re so pretty-”

“You think?” you ask, grabbing one of the hands on your hips so you can raise it to your breast-

His palm is warm, his hand much larger than your own, and his fingers instinctively knead at your flesh, earning a groan from both you and Mark-

Then Mark’s eyes shift past your shoulder- “Haechan, I swear to god-”

But it’s too late, you’re already being breathed on by the world’s most annoying frat boy wanna-be smoke machine-

“I’m a dragon.”

Scratch that- the world’s most annoying frat boy wanna be - mother fucking - dragon.

“Oh my Jesus,” Mark mutters bellow you, shaking his head before burying it in your chest, lips latching onto your nipple.

You tangle your hands in Mark’s hair while Hyuck adjusts behind you, pressing a few kisses of his own to your neck, even suckling on your sweet spot. Then, there’s pressure between your shoulder blades, and Hyuck helps you and Mark back down to the pillows before turning his attention to your newly displayed ass.

“Do you think you can fit me?” Hyuck questions, one hand settling on your hip to keep you still on Mark, while the other returns two spit lubed digits to your hole.

You groan at the feeling of Mark in your pussy and Hyuck’s fingers in your ass, and you’re quick to nod. “I can take you-”

“Yeah you can,” Hyuck echoes your sentiment happily, scissoring his digits a few times before pulling them out. “Stay still for me, just gotta get some lube and then I’ll slip into you, okay?”

Mark’s lips are on yours, and you make a sound of affirmation for Hyuck, allowing yourself to get lost in the Canadian while patiently awaiting his roommate-

You’re not sure what you were expecting- but it had definitely been substantially smaller than the feeling of the head of the cock that presses against your ass, and the shock at Hyuck being big has you tensing up-

“You okay?” Mark’s quick to break your kiss in favor of checking on you, his hands smoothing up and down your sides soothingly.

“Yeah-” you groan, “It’s just-”

“If you don’t think you can take me- I can stop-” Hyuck is next to reassure you, and the fact that they’re both being considerate and slow about this has a new wave of wetness flooding through your core.

“I can- just-” you rest your head against the crook of Mark’s neck, trying to relax- “can you say some nice things to me?”

“Nice things?” Mark lets out a small laugh- “Fuck- you’re so cute-”

“She is,” Hyuck agrees. “Our cute little baby,” his warm palm glides over the rump of your ass, and he pushes into you a little more- “that’s it-”

“You feel so good,” Mark says, turning his head a little so he can brush his mouth by your ear, prompting you to come out of your hiding spot by his throat. “And these lips-”

Kissing Mark is as easy as breathing.

Before you know it, Hyuck’s hips are flush to your ass, and you feel what it’s like to be truly, completely, full.

“Feels good?” Hyuck double checks on you as he takes a test thrust, his hands settling on your waist.

“So good-” you confirm, and from the sounds Mark is making, you can tell he feels just as good as you do.

“Fuck-” the man behind you cusses. “Maybe taking a hit wasn’t a good idea-”

“Why?”

“You literally feel-” you hear him swallow thickly, and he fucks you harder when he says the word “insane.”

“Like-” Hyuck continues, “I could fuck you forever- but also, not forever, cuz you feel so good- you’re obviously gonna make me and Mark cum stupidly fast-”

“I am?”

“Yeah-” Hyuck practically purrs, and Mark lets out his own groan of affirmation. “Our good little cock slut, making us cum so fast-”

“And you’re gonna cum for us too, right?” Mark’s lips are on your neck, breath hot against your skin. “You sound so perfect when you’re about to cum-”

“Mark-” your hands are braced against his chest, and you can feel the two fratboys everywhere whilst being caged between them-

He’s right; you’re so close to cumming you can almost taste it- can feel the cry of pleasure building in the back of your throat-

“Just like that-” Hyuck groans behind you, hips moving erratically- “just like that-”

Two sets of hands manuver your body, lifting you up and down on Mark’s cock while also keeping you in a good spot for Hyuck- whose hand comes down sharply onto your ass-

“I’m-” the word comes out choked, and you can’t even finish your sentence, your body clamping down on both intrusions, entire form flooded with pleasure-

“Fuck-” fingers dig into your waist and Hyuck presses himself flush to your ass-

“God-” Mark’s also twitching beneath you, hips continuing to rut up, pushed on by adrenaline-

“Take it-” Hyuck mutters- “take it, take it, take it-”

Mark groans loudly at the idea of you taking their cum- and he shivers with an aftershock of euphoria, heart racing loudly in his chest. His lips seak out yours, and he enjoys the way you let out strangles gasps, just as breathless as him.

Things slowly come to a stop, with Hyuck’s hands settling on your hips while Mark kisses you, and for a little while, you simply stay that way.

Then Hyuck lets out a groan, pulling out of your ass.

“Fucking hell-” he says breathlessly, and you hear him swallow, still catching his breath. “Messy kitty.”

You can feel his cum dripping out of your ass already, and Mark must feel it too, because he’s the next to grunt, adjusting you on his hips- “seriously dude?”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll grab a fucking cloth-” the bed dips as Hyuck moves away, and you allow yourself to relax against Mark’s chest in the few seconds it takes for the younger Lee to return with a wetcloth to wipe away his cum.

“Your turn.”

Hyuck puts the cloth on Mark’s leg when he’s done with it, and the man beneath you groans in annoyance before asking you, “can I get you on your back?”

One nod has Mark flipping you, pressing you into the mattress briefly before lifting his weight off of you completely, cock slipping out of your core-

The wet towel is swiping across your entrance a moment later, and you relax against the pillows, enjoying the simple aftercleaning-

“You gonna stay here tonight?” Mark asks, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee that has you opening your eyes to look at him again.

“Can i?”

Mark laughs, “Of course-”

And Hyuck grins from the gamer chair, his dab rig tool already loaded up and ready to go- “As if we’d fuck you then kick you out-” he chuckles, shaking his head. When he looks up at you again, there’s a fondness in his eyes that’s unmissable. “Now you just gotta decide who’s bed you’re sleeping in.”

Oh, first-world problems.

✘ thanks for reading :) ✘ Please find the teaser for the accompanying patreon exclusive extension bonus of this fic below :)

Patreon Bonus Details

✘ [synopsis]: a month or two after your first fuckfest, you're getting settled into dating Mark and Hyuck ✘ [warnings]: threesome, oral (f/m receiving), fingering, praise, degradation, dirty talk, pet names, unprotected sex, jealousy, etc…

✘ [word count]: 2.2k - 200 shown in teaser

Jungwoo feels bad for Jeno.

As the men square up for an impromptu snow ball fight, spurred on by cold weather, there feels to be something like a hole in the team-

Or at least, Jungwoo can feel the incompletion of his friend group; Mark and Hyuck have been increasingly distant, spending more and more time with you, their new girlfriend.

So, in a way, Jungwoo has lost something too, although, it’s much easier for him to join you on a night with your boyfriends than it is for Jeno, who is still holding obvious feelings for you-

In Jungwoo’s periphery, a frat house window opens, and the massive cloud of smoke released is yet another reminder of the two men choosing to skip the frat fun in favour of fuck time-

“Fucking Haechan-” On Jungwoo’s other side, Jeno throws a snowball.

Jungwoo doesn’t feel so bad for Jeno when the snowball lands its mark- but Jungwoo does feel bad for the fact that, as far as he could tell, it hadn’t been Hyuck at the window.

✘ To read the full bonus, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here ✘ or check out what else is on my patreon in the masterlist here

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miraculousmultifan · 8 months

Note

Taylor Swift prompt fest!

Steve / Eddie Shake It Off Season 02 AU - the Halloween Party The most Steve-coded of these Steve-coded lyrics: I go on too many dates But I can't make 'em stay But I keep cruisin' Can't stop, won't stop movin' It's like I got this music in my mind Sayin' it's gonna be alright

My ex-man brought his new girlfriend She's like, "Oh my God!" but I'm just gonna shake And to the fella over there with the hella good hair Won't you come on over, baby? We can shake, shake, shake (yeah)

hiii!! thank you so much for the prompt! i hope you enjoy the fic :D

as a reminder, this is part of my event: stranger things (taylor's version), and you can find the prompt list HERE

i'm also cross-posting this fic (and every other fic from this event) to my ao3, so if you'd prefer to read it there, HERE IS THE LINK

Shake It Off

When Steve stepped out of the bathroom, leaving Nancy to… freshen up, he hadn’t wanted to see Jonathan Byers right after. But nothing ever seemed to go his way after that slimy monster attacked them, did it?

It doesn’t matter. Just shake it off, man.

“Hey, Steve,” Jonathan called to him meekly. “Have you seen Nancy? She invited me, but I haven’t seen her since I got here.”

It’s probably not what you think, Steve. Shake it off.

“She’s in the bathroom by the kitchen. She’s gotten pretty drunk so you should probably drive her home,” Steve replied, deadpan, trying to keep his voice even to avoid making a scene.

Jonathan cocked his head. “You aren’t taking her?”

Trying to think of any other excuse that wasn’t ‘we had a fight and the sight of her right now makes me want to scream,’ Steve replied, “I’ve been drinking too, man. Don’t wanna get a DUI.”

Without another word, they parted ways. As Steve was walking away, he heard Nancy delightedly exclaim, “Jonathan!” His chest clenched, and he attempted to stop the scowl from darkening his face.

Shake. It. Off. Steve!

Although he hadn’t realized he was doing it, Steve made his way to the kitchen to grab another drink. Beer wasn’t really cutting it anymore, but he remembered seeing someone dump vodka into the fruit punch, so he poured himself a hefty cup of the stuff. If he was going to stick around this party, Steve certainly wasn’t going to do it without adding a little artificial fun.

Once he had started feeling the buzz of the alcohol fogging up his brain pleasantly, Steve joined the thrum of people in the living room dancing. The current song was one that Steve couldn’t remember the name of, but he knew that he loved it!

While the kind of dancing everyone else was doing seemed to revolve around nodding their heads, tapping their feet, and just generally trying to look cool, Steve let himself loosen up. It was like he became the center of attention, feeling the music move through him as he matched the beat with his body.

And it was fun! Way more fun than if he decided to go straight home and mope around in his empty house because Nancy didn’t love him.

The thought of Nancy sobered him up a little, though. Now he was at the point where he could hear conversations happening around him.

“I saw Nancy Wheeler leave the party with that loner, Byers. Harrington really can’t make them stay. Imagine losing your girlfriend to the same guy twice.”

“You’d think after dating half of the female student body he’d figure out how to get a girl to like him for more than just a quick fuck.”

Steve tried to lose himself in the music again.

“Harrington really fell off, huh. That weird fucking dance makes him look like a barfing cat.”

“Literally! I can’t believe we all thought he was cool. This is so lame it’s sad.”

For some reason, Steve found himself sinking back into the feeling from before. He was having fun. He was making his own dance up, and it felt great!

Soon, though, the song switched to something with a different beat, and Steve had to find the rhythm again. When he opened his eyes to get a better grip on his bearings though, he was looking directly at Eddie Munson standing in the corner.

He looked unimpressed and generally disinterested, and Steve frowned. It was a really bad look to have someone unhappy at your party. Sure, technically it wasn’t Steve’s party, but as the proclaimed “King of Parties,” he was basically his duty to right this infraction.

Before Steve even realized he was walking, his feet led him straight to Munson, stopping him too close for the average person’s comfort. He started drafting what he was going to say, trying to find the right combination of words that would get Munson to have fun, but instead…

“If you’re here for weed, your Majesty, I’m afraid I’m fresh out of stock for the night,” Munson drawled, watching Steve with guarded eyes.

“What?” Steve blinked once. Then twice. Oh… “Ah, right. Weed.” Ever eloquent, that was where Steve’s mouth decided to shut off.

Munson raised an eyebrow at Steve suspiciously. “If you weren’t looking for weed, why are you standing here?”

“You’re not having fun,” Steve stated. Come on, get to the point, Steve!

Putting on a theatrical face, Munson sing-songed, “What an astute observation, my Lord! Though, I do regret to inform you that this is strictly a business venture. Nobody has fun when they’re conducting business, my Liege.”

All of Munson’s fancy words were kind of fucking up Steve’s ability to get the words he wanted to say out of his brain and into his mouth. “Huh?”

Munson sighed, obviously becoming fed up with Steve's conversation skills. “Did this conversation have a point, or did the braincells I lost while standing here just die for nothing?”

“Come dance with me!” Steve finally suggested.

“I beg your everloving fuck?” Munson answered, his face twisted in several different complicated expressions.

Steve grinned. “You’re not having fun, so come dance with me! I wasn’t having fun a couple minutes ago, and now I feel great!” He paused for a moment and frowned. “Though I guess that could’ve been the vodka…”

Munson pinched the bridge of his nose and grumbled under his breath, seeming just to himself, “Why are you even entertaining this, Eddie? Get a grip!” Then he relaxed his shoulders and looked up, staring at Steve calculatingly as he said, “So let me make sure I got this right. You, Steve Harrington, are inviting me, Eddie Munson, to dance with you in this crowded room full of practically every popular kid in our high school.”

“You know, you have really nice hair,” Steve replied instead. “What conditioner do you use? It looks so soft.”

Squinting at him like he had two heads, Munson finally relented and snarked, “It seems like someone should be chaperoning you right now, so… I guess I can rise to the occasion for once.”

Steve beamed at Eddie and led him deeper into the mass of people so they could be closer to the music. Once he found what he deemed to be the perfect spot, Steve let himself feel the music once again. He wanted to get rid of all that other shit.

The gossipmongers at Hawkins High always start shit at every opportunity. Sometimes the most basic things get circulated through every rumor mill, and Steve had given up trying to plaster on a fake smile and put on a show.

Suddenly, Steve turned to Eddie and said, “Hey, you’re against all that conformist shit, right? Like doing your own thing or something?”

“Yeah, man… I am,” Eddie replied carefully.

Steve smiled, hoping he figured out how to get Eddie to really join him. “That’s what this is. Dancing like an idiot because it’s lame and so fun and I don’t have to worry about anyone else’s… bullshit.”

Eddie hummed, watching Steve appraisingly before his lips quirked up into something a couple of degrees off of affection. “Alright, I think I can get behind that. Wanna pretend like we’re the lead singers of this band performing a sold-out show?”

Brightening considerably, Steve pumped his fist. “Hell yeah!”

Once Steve gave his approval, Eddie whipped out an air guitar and started strumming viciously, his motions not at all synced up to “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” Steve grinned and picked up his own fake microphone, tilting the stand around like he was Elvis Presley while he headbanged aggressively. Cyndi Lauper was not an artist people would usually headbang to, but it was fun, so Steve was doing it.

Naturally, people started to stand and gawk at their display, but their confused and disgusted looks only seemed to fuel Eddie’s energy. Hey, that’s what Steve had been trying to do! Getting Eddie to join him was definitely the right choice.

Matching Eddie’s enthusiasm, Steve leaned in closer to him to share the microphone as if they were singing a duet. Eddie snorted out a surprised laugh at Steve’s antics, but he still joined in with the charade.

Even when people started whispering around them, Steve didn’t care anymore. Their words slid off of him like water off his back. Plus, Eddie looked like he was having fun too.

Steve was starting to forget why he had been so upset before… Eh, it was probably just some stupid bullshit anyway.

#mira writes #stranger things (taylor's version)#stranger things #taylor swift #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #stranger things season 2

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krethes · 2 years

Text

@wolfstarmicrofic october day five: another world

Read the rest of this firefighter AU here: wherever flames may rage or by searching for #firefighter au on my page.

Very spicy, tucking below the cut.

In another world, this would have been so simple. In another world, this would have happened months ago, with hasty touches and hungry kisses, devouring each other, their sounds, their lust. In another world, there wouldn't have been all of this courtship, and though it makes him feel a little silly for putting it off, Remus is quite happy in this world, because this world has Sirius on his kitchen counter, kicking his feet against the bottom cupboards and singing along to the radio while Remus pours them both a drink.

Even that is a mark of growth, maybe, maturity. Not just a shot of vodka with a dick chaser, not an entire case of beer gone, but something that takes time and effort to craft, something to be savored. Like Sirius.

Remus passes one of the glasses to Sirius and steps between the V of his spread knees. Like this, they're of the same height, and Remus can look directly into those argent eyes, unwavering. "It's ponche Navideño," he explains when Sirius sniffs his cup. "It's hot. And I have a lot of it, so..." Remus tries to shrug casually, like it doesn't matter to him if Sirius doesn't like it, but it really does. This is his first Christmas without his mother (she's flown to Michoacán to visit her side of the family) and the ponche is a hallmark of Christmas, to him. That and making tamales, but he's the only Latine person he knows in Denver (he hasn't been here all that long and is very busy with work) and he's not sure Sirius is quite up to the task.

Sirius copies him, blowing on the steaming mug before taking a careful sip, and Remus braces himself for a polite rebuff. He has no reason to think Sirius will—it's spiced, hot fruit punch (with tequila)—but Remus has always had a talent for catastrophizing. Instead, Sirius utters a low, throaty moan that goes straight to Remus's dick far faster than it should only 0.1 drinks in. "That's it," Sirius declares, taking a longer drink this time, and then another, "you have to bring this to the station—not this this because this is mine. Ours.—and I'm going to need you to make this for me every Christmas, please and thank you."

Remus blushes under the praise, but particularly at the implication that Sirius both wants and expects multiple Christmases with Remus, not just this one. It warms him from the inside out in a way no drink can do, and Remus just looks at Sirius, overwhelmed with the force of his feelings.

"What? There's no way I spilled anything!" Sirius looks down at his shirt anyway, but it's still pristine. Remus takes his moment of confusion to brush their lips together, licking the taste of the punch off of Sirius's pillow-plush mouth. The kiss rapidly turns ravenous, and Remus abandons his mug in favor of digging his hands in Sirius's hair, drinking in everything he has to give.

By the time they part, both of their mugs have gone cold, and Remus can't keep his hands off of Sirius. "Do you..."

"Yes."

"I haven't even asked you anything yet."

"Whatever you want, I want to do."

Remus inwardly feels that that's incredibly sweet and tender, but outwardly knows Sirius would appreciate a little sass just as much. "So if I wanted to go swimming in Sloan Lake, buck naked, that'd be fine with you?"

"Any opportunity to see you naked is one worth taking, Remus," Sirius purrs, far too smoothly. "Besides, then you'd be all cold and shivering and it would be my job—my duty—to get you nice and warm again. I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"And down your pants," Remus adds, sharing a husky laughing with Sirius. "I'm feeling a little cold now, actually..." He's not. He's actually perfectly fine despite having been raised in a desert that rarely goes before 40 degrees.

But Sirius picks up what he's putting down and grins. "We'll need to huddle together for warmth. Without clothes, of course. It's science."

Remus doesn't point out that, as their clothes are dry, it doesn't actually hinder anything to leave them on, because he very much wants a naked Sirius in his bed immediately if not sooner. "Can't argue with that logic. I expect you'll want to be carried?"

"It's Christmas, Remus!" Sirius says, like he doesn't ask for Remus to carry him on a semi-weekly basis. He drapes his arms around Remus's shoulders and shimmies a little closer to the edge of the counter expectantly.

Remus lifts him with a soft grunt, sorely tempted to toss him over his shoulder again, but lets Sirius koala to him instead, his legs wrapped around Remus's middle, holding on tight. He's not light by any means but he's still portable, and Remus does like the way Sirius's breath hitches in his chest when he does it.

He tries to throw Sirius onto the mattress, but Sirius holds tight, dragging Remus clumsily down on top of him. Somewhere between a groan of but why though and a laugh, they end up kissing again, because they always do, and Remus feels himself let go, feels all the baggage and trauma and walls crash.

"I want you," Remus confesses into Sirius's mouth. The thundering of his pulse mixed with Sirius's soft moans create a heady symphony that leaves him wanting. "I want you inside me."

After months of being together, he knows Sirius's hesitation is one of care, not reluctance, so when he asks, "You sure?" Remus doesn't back down.

"Yeah, definitely."

It starts slow, a little spark that burns as they strip each other, hands yanking open flies and ripping shirts off. The spark becomes a flame as Remus hums appreciatively at the sight of Sirius, hard and beautiful, kneeling on his bed in front of him. By the time Remus is on his back, he knows there's no rewinding time, no deciding to not do this. Not because Sirius wouldn't back off, but because he's so very certain about this moment.

"You're beautiful," Sirius whispers reverently as he maps the planes of Remus's chest with his lips. He's correctly guessed where the lube is (rightside nightstand) and gently pets at Remus's hole with a slick fingertip. Remus squirms in anticipation, goosebumps shattering across his skin. It's been a long time (five years, at least) since he bottomed for anyone, but he wants to share this with Sirius. "I love that I'm getting to see you like this." He presses his finger past the tight ring of muscle and inhales sharply. "Been a while?"

There's no mocking or ridicule in his voice, but Remus blushes anyway. "A little more than a while."

Sirius kisses him as he opens Remus up with one finger, and Remus arches up into him. His body remembers what this feels like, the delight of being full and filled, even if his mind started off a little anxious. "Not your first time though." Sirius says it matter-of-factly, and Remus feels his smirk against his jaw when his kisses travel there. "Gonna be your best time."

"Cockyyyohfuck." Remus's breathy laughter quickly becomes a keening moan when Sirius crooks his finger just so, sending pleasure shooting throughout his entire body. "More."

"Bossy." Sirius obliges, though, withdrawing only to push two fingers in this time. He watches Remus's face, his gaze so intense that Remus has to look away, throwing one arm over his eyes. Sirius doesn't ask him to pull it away, just transfers his kisses to Remus's forearm, turning it into an unlikely erogenous zone. Sirius scissors his fingers, quickly and efficiently turning Remus into a boneless pile of mush. (Well, not completely boneless.)

"I'm ready," Remus chokes out after a long drag over his prostate. Sirius just keeps grinding into it without reprieve and Remus's dick, hard and dripping between them, sends another thick glob of precome. "Fuck, fuck, Sirius, please!" He's only come untouched once, and it was by himself, but Remus thinks Sirius might have a solid chance at it, at the cost of his sanity.

Sirius takes mercy on him and pulls out, leaving Remus whining and disappointingly empty. "I can't just shove my dick in there with my fingers, Remus," Sirius admonishes teasingly, which just makes Remus's cock twitch. "...I can't do that right now," Sirius corrects, his voice gone gruff and strained. Remus peeks around his arm to watch him lean back on his haunches to grab a condom, roll it down, but stops him before his slicks up his cock.

"Let me." Remus sits up, relying solely on his core strength, and drizzles lube onto Sirius's cock, dragging soft huffs and curses from him with every twist of his fingers. "Now we're even," he teases.

"Like I wasn't getting off on watching myself finger fuck you," Sirius scoffs, but the corners of his mouth are tilted and there's a mad sort of excitement in his eyes that's contagious. He guides Remus back down flat, spreads his thighs, and coaxes him to propping his long legs over his shoulders. Sirius lines up and Remus bites his lower lip in anticipation. "Ready?"

In another world, Remus would've second guessed himself, would've jumped into a decision to make someone else happy, to keep them around longer. But he wants this with Sirius because he's happy, because Sirius isn't going anywhere, and neither is he.

"Ready."

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #my fics #wolfstarmicrofic #firefighter au

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nati-sims · 2 years

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Traduções dos mods de receitas das criadoras Somik e Severinka

Oi, pessoal! ✨

Para facilitar as nossas vidas, eu resolvi reunir aqui todas as traduções dos mods de receitas e bebidas das criadoras Somik e Severinka. Os mods estão todos em ordem alfabética e, através destes links, vocês acessam os links de download do mod e da tradução.

10 Bar Cocktails

Baked and fried Pirozhki

Baked Salmon Veggie

Baklava, Malbrume and Turkish Delight

Bananas, Apples and Grapes

Banquet Table for Baby Shower

Beer Plate Appetizer and Pretzels

Beetroot Soup Borsch

Bento Cake

Bouillabaisse, Coq-au-vin and Nicoise - “French Cuisine

Canapes with Salmon and Cream Cheese

Cheese and Meat Platter

Cheese Soup with Croutons

Cocktails in bottles Shake

Cookies “Gingerbread” *23

Cookbook S&S

Cookies Gingerbread

Cookies Zimtsterne

Cottage Cheese Pancakes

Creamy Chocolate Cake with Berries

Creamy Soup with Salmon and Vegetables

Crêpes with berries

Crêpes with Caviar

Crispbreads with egg, vegetables and cottage cheese

Delivery - Healthy Food, Part 1

Delivery - Healthy Food Part 2

Dessert Turrón

Easter Cake and Eggs

Egg-nog Bowl

English Fruit Cake and Christstollen

Food Shop Delivery

French Onion Soup, Gratin dauphinois and Clafoutis - French Cuisine”

Frittata, Risotto and Minestrone - "Italian cuisine”

Fruit Platter

Functional Baby Food

Functional Beer

Functional Beer Barrels

Functional Beer in Bottles

Functional Blender and Protein Shakes

Functional Buffet with 18 dishes

Functional Champagne Bottles

Functional Champagne ‘Golden Edition’ and Gift Box 'Ferrero Rocher

Functional Craft Beer in Bottles

Functional Mangal (BBQ) and 10 recipes on skewers

Functional Martini Bottles

Functional Refrigerator for Beer

Functional Rum and Amaretto

Functional SET for SAKE💚

Functional Shelves for the Store

Functional Whiskey, Cognac and Vodka

Functional Wine Bottles

Gift Boxes “Chocolate-Covered Strawberry"💖

Gift Boxes Macaron

Gourmet dishes for the restaurant

Greek Salad

Green Salad with Avocado💖

Healthy Breakfasts with Avocado

Jollof Rice, Egusi soup with fufu and Moi Moi. “Cuisine of Africa - Nigeria

Lasagna, Manicotti and Tiramisu - "Italian cuisine”

Mango, Carambola and Soursop

Mashed potatoes with cutlets, potatoes with mushrooms and rustic

Meat Dumplings and a Product

Mulled Wine

Order at the bar

Oysters and Pufferfish

Paella, Pinchos and Santiago Cake

Pancakes Stuffed with Curd

Pancakes Stuffed with Meat

Pancakes Stuffed with Salmon and Cream Cheese

Passion and Dragon Fruits

Pears, Peaches, Apricoats and Plums

Pies - set 2

Pies - set 3

Pomegranate, Fig, Avocado and Cerry

Product and Ingredient of “Tartlets” 💖

Punches (Non-alcoholic)

Realistic Cooking Mod v 5.4💚

Realistic Cooking Mod V 6.0💚

Realistic Cooking Mod v 7.0

Restaurant dishes - set 2

Salad Dressed Herring

Salad Olivier with red Caviar

Salad Vinegret

Salad with shrimp and orange

Sandwiches with Vegetables 💖

Set of Rolls “Philadelphia”, “California”, “Canada"💖

Smoothie Bowls and Chia Puddings

Spinach Soup with Cream and Croutons💖

Steaks - 5 different doneness

Stuffed peppers, Pumpkin soup and Baked pumpkin slices

Tartlets with Kiwi and Berries💖- Set 1

Tartlets with Pineapple and Berries💖- Set 2

Tartlets with Red and Black Caviar 💖

Tarts

Turkey and vegetables for ThanksgivingVarenyky, Chicken Kyev and Salo. Ukraine Cuisine

Watermelon Desserts

Wedding Cakes with Roses

Esta lista será atualizada conforma novas atualizações estiverem prontas.

#mods tradução ts4 #ts4 mods #somik and severinka #the sims 4 mods #sims 4 mods #the sims 4

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packsvlog · 2 months

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ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ᝰ BET YOU CAN’T ⸻ chp6.

ᡴꪫ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after a nasty breakup from a long distance relationship, your needs for hookup starts to bundle up more and more, until it’s all you can think about. tired of your unusual and annoying self, your friends decide to have a little fun and stop this nonsense. it’s just a bet, you don’t even have to do it, actually, they just want you to calm down a bit. although you, a quite normal yet weird girl, never backs down from a dare, so you fully believe you can win this one — to hookup with the most amount of guys from your college’s top fraternity. all you need is booze, a party with neon lights and someone saying “doubt it”. as a future journalist, you see it as a top notch article to write.

ᡴꪫ cw: party \\ alcohol \\ swearing and talk about sex \\ minor character acting suspicious

Sipping vodka mixed with cranberry juice from a straw is not exactly how parties in college used to go for you. Not that you had been in many, au contraire, your spares moments between classes were much rather used to call your ex-boyfriend, at the time boyfriend — unless, of course, he wasn’t the one partying! Because he, who Hakari named Voldemort, could do as he pleases, and parties with friends have a different meaning for men and women. His words.

You never had the confirmation he cheated on you, but you had a collection of many odd situations during your four years long relationship that made you wonder, specially those final two, where it became long distance.

Part of you knew that a random party, two cups of this mix of vodka with fruit juice and not being under the careful eyes of your friends, something bad was bound to happen. And, you have been thinking about your ex ever since Hakari came to pick your group up — he bought roses as an apology for something that was just a joke, at any given opportunity Kinji liked to remind everyone, specially Kirara, how much of a good boyfriend he was.

You tried, but could not not envy them. Sometimes love was simple for others than it was for you. The bastard you dated had never once gifted you roses, much less as an apology. In his eyes, he did no wrong, but you did. Maybe he was right, maybe you were too jealous or maybe he really kept flirting with any female he saw. You hated him, sipping your drink that tasted more like acetone than fruit punch, glossy eyes hidden behind a mask with the deformed face of a guy you had never seen before.

That was probably the best part of the night, when Hakari showed you the masks and explained the party theme, only you and Yuki had laughed about it, finding it geniuses. You were really grateful that it could hide your sad face, and also disgusted. This was cheap vodka.

“Have you seen my wife?” Utahime had stumbled on the kitchen, finding you thanks to the shortest mini skirt in history.

“What wife?” You asked just for the appearances, everyone knew that inside Hime’s mind, she was happily married with Shoko and they had five cats. She gave you a pointed look. “No, I haven’t. But Kinji said he, the boys and her are the ones wearing different masks, it’s not going to be hard to find her.”

Wrong. As you stared beyond the kitchen, and into the house, just to prove a point, you realized how badly inside your mind you were. There was a flood of people coming and going, dancing and jumping, the lights were low, saved by neon purple and red fairy lights everywhere. It was a lost cause.

Utahime groaned before leaning on the counter you had been sitting for a while, grabbing a beer bottle and drowning it in a few gulps.

“Y’know, I get you sometimes.” She said with a sigh. “I too wish I was being ravished inside a changing room in a store… What was the rest?” Iori quoted one of your many tweets. “Oh, yeah, and the employee catches us but we’re so hot, they wouldn’t complain.”

“When someone say out loud, it sounds weird.” You laugh while moving your mask up, enough to gulp the rest of the drink, and right away you start preparing a new one.

The talk about your tweets started right after, and when the rest of the group joined, you had drank already pineapple, apple and grape juice.

“Watchu doing, pretty girl?” Kirara shifts their attention to you, when your laugh quiet down and your mask was removed so you could squint at your cellphone, trying to see something.

“I’m trying to call my brother, do you think he is here?” You answer.

“I’ll help you.” Before you can stop, they grab your cellphone and stare at the screen. “You fucking little bitch, she was going to call the devil!”

“You have Sukuna’s number?” Kinji asks, heavenly drunk, coming behind Kira and kissing her neck. Eugh.

“What—No! She was going to call that bitch ex of hers.” Kira answers, moving his head away from them and sighing at you.

“I’m sorry, but… I need action, you guys know that. And every guy I know it’s weird, or in a relationship already. I need to be fucked.” You slur your words, using your hands to emphasize your neediness.

“I thought Voldemort never made you finish.” Yuki grabs your cup and finishes it remains.

“So? At least I was feeling something.”

“Well, that’s why we bought those dildos, baby.” Kira snorts, blocking your phone and putting in their purse.

“I don’t want to do all the work, it’s embarrassing.” Opening your arms for them to hug you, you rest your head on their chest.

“She is just like Gojo.” Hakari says, pouting that his partner is not giving him attention. “Always complaining about sex, as if you aren’t one of the prettiest on this campus, pick someone from this party and just go have fun. Dumb bitch.” He grabs Kira from your embrace, making you whine like a baby.

Taking a look around, not many people have their masks off, but a guy by your side does. His fashion style is non existing, his skinny jeans are more tight than the ones you used to wear, and he s wearing a polo shirt. He looks preppy, and he is staring at you.

“No, not that.” Yuki guides your head towards the group. “Anything but that boy, he looks like someone’s dad.”

“You know what? I have the perfect idea.” Kira comes closer again, to the despair of Hakari, and grabbing their phone, they show the group her last message on it… With Gojo. “That freaky bitch send me a message after I posted our pictures, at first I thought he was going to flirt with me, ‘cause I posted the single ladies and… I’m yapping.” Everyone nods and laugh at that. “Anyways, no, he wanted you, baby! He said you were hot and if I could put him in a good light with you.”

“Fuck does that mean?” Hakari grabs the phone and inspects the message, laughing.

“Girl, no!” Utahime protests, holding your shoulders. “Go back with your ex, it’s better.”

“Shut up, Iori!” Yuki grabs you from the girl. “Listen, you go find Gojo, have protected sex and then you’ll be free from this curse of being horny all day.”

Everyone else burst out laughing, with lots of sarcasm in it.

“Please,” Cleaning non-existential tears, Utahime sighs. “With how horny she is, this bitch would have to fuck them all.”

Silence is the answer, as if all of you are waiting for someone to deny. It never happens, though, because it’s the truth. In your old relationship, you weren’t sex addicts, doing it like rabbits. Barely meeting each other once or twice a month, your time was spend cuddling and fighting, sometimes a quickie. It was like another person had replaced you, the pent up energy of four years of relationship that you tried to excuse the lack of orgasm, was out in the world. That’s why you created your twitter account, in less than two months, twenty thousand people started to follow you — that was fuel to be more and more unhinged.

“I bet I could.” You say while staring at the mask on your lap. “I would be super calm, and normal again.”

“Bet you can’t, I think you’re too deep in this wormhole.” Utahime says and Hakari agrees.

“Sorry, mamas, buts it’s the truth. Once you get dick, you will be unstoppable, and even more weird on the twitter.”

“Why don’t we put to test?” Kira asks, mischievous. “You fuck them all, and we won’t judge your tweets anymore. You don’t finish, or post something crazy while at it, you lose the bet.”

Everyone is quiet again, thinking the possibilities. You’re not against it, although you barely remember the boys faces and names, you know they are hot. It’s not really a sacrifice, admit it.

“Isn’t that unethical, to be using them?” Yuki, always the gentlest, asks.

“Nah, don’t worry, they are in need to fuck.” Hakari rests his arm on your shoulder, face coming closer, as if telling you secret. “The only problem is every girl is a potential follower on tik tok, some of them have been through some stuff, thanks to this. So you have to be very patient and lucky.”

“You guys think too much of yourselves.” Utahime mumbles, for the first time in a while, sipping another beer.

“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck Shoko. Even if she begs.” You jump laughing from the counter when she charges at you. “And you as well, Kinji, sorry.”

“I mean, you have a strap, he still needs to be punished.” Kira shrugs, laughing at their boyfriends reactions.

“And, how about Choso?” You stare at Yuki. “You have a crush, he can be off limits.”

“Don’t worry, baby.” Yuki laughs while grabbing your hand. “Fuck him, and then tell me if it’s good, I’ll go from there.” And with that, she pushes you to get out of the kitchen.

It’s starting, the bet is on.

Your first instinct is to find Gojo, the only one in the fraternity you have an idea what he looks like. Extremely tall and white hair should be enough to locate in a masked party. Walking through every room and halls, you are standing out by being maskless, and even when cute guys approach you, you are too set in your goals to give them attention. Maybe when this is over — right now, you need Gojo. Or, any other boy wearing a different mask than the rest.

The party is dark, and your vision is blurry, you feel as if you had walked the house for half an hour now. Sighing defeated, you wonder if the bet can start the next party. Kinji did mentioned once how the boys plan to make two parties a month, “all with daddy’s money”, Utahime said, and Kinji couldn’t deny.

Going back downstairs proved to be a difficult task with your boots, but you managed to at least stumble on the last step, that leads you straight into the living room, and fuck, you sober up instantly.

You have never been popular in college, or payed attention to anyone in it. Your only tasks are to finish your classes, get good grades and be a model to Kirara. Still, some names scape in the gossip of the week, and some have called your attention when you see a pattern that can’t be ignored — about cheaters, about dropouts or… about weird fuckers with pedophile tendencies.

Mei-Mei was the only in this very specific list, and you had been very aware of anything containing her, specially now that your little brother, Toge, started to attend your college. The woman was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny that, but she had a history that followed her name, something with a high school boy. And now, almost pushing thirty, (there is nothing wrong with still studying), the problem lies when she only dates newly turned twenty something students — as if she is trying to clean her name and failing at doing so.

Mei rather go for the freshman, unaware of her reputation, but some people had been warning them and now, she is desperate. Almost sitting on the lap of this guy, maskless as you and her are, his fingers are trembling and digging into his jeans.

“There you are!” Your voice interrupts Mei hands from reaching the boys thigh, and also the fact that you grab his hand, making him stand, instantly his hands go to your waist for support, and yours to his shoulder. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“We were busy.” Mei sighs, as if that could stop you and give her back the boy.

“Not anymore, me and…” You stare at him, the boy is dumbfounded, but with a cute smile in his face. He doesn’t say his name, occupied with staring at your face. “Me and pretty boy have something to do, you won’t mind, right? I mean, you can try to find a freshman anywhere else, Mei.” And with her snicker, you leave the living room hand in hand with unnamed guy, guiding him upstairs.

The boy takes control, moving in front of you and walking inside a room, far away in the hall. He locks it, when you step inside. He stares at you, while you occupy yourself with eyeing the decoration — expensive and vintage cameras, abstract colorful arts, skates on a wall and a baby blue surfboard on the other, near the window a telescope is pointed somewhere.

“We shouldn’t be here, if I was the owner of this room, I would be pissed.” You say, but contrary to your words, you move to the telescope, bending down to set your eye on the visor and hope to catch anything. It’s just black.

“I am the owner.” He laughs, coming behind you and setting the object slightly to the side, making you see a bit of the moon. “I’m Ino Takuma.”

Ino is not Gojo, the one you planned to start your bet with, but frankly, you don’t mind. His strong arms are back on your waist, one hand slides to the back of your head, moving it to the side, so you can now clearly see some stars. You can’t help but hope that this is the first, but not last time he will make you seem them.

ᡴꪫ a/n: omg, so much dialogue. bet is on! also, ino is one year younger than reader, not newly turned 20! he was just uncomfortable. so, what do you guys think? it was not on purpose that utahime said the title, corny but i’ll let it slide. hey, reader’s ex is voldemort, but fck the author!

🏷️ 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @ducky1232 @mfcherry @minzxec @d3jecteddoll @shuuji71 @emilyywhyy @makeshiftproject @poopooindamouf @ventila98 @faithums @lvingd3adg0rl @r0ckst4rjk @lunavelha @catobsessedlady @luvvmae @sjndvi @punkhazardlaw @lemonnotade @luvmeadow @tired-jaz @csxmxx @serenadesvt @ukiyoeangel @satoryaa @starrnai

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omagazineparis · 5 months

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Les aliments à éviter pour perdre du poids

L’obésité est un problème qui touche de nombreuses personnes. Cela n’est pas uniquement néfaste pour la santé, mais empêche également de se sentir bien dans sa peau. Heureusement qu’il existe des méthodes qui permettent de maigrir vite. Le plus souvent, les nutritionnistes et les médecins conseillent à chaque personne concernée de pratiquer des activités physiques. Mais tout se joue aussi sur l’alimentation. Sur ce cas, quels sont les aliments à ne plus consommer pour perdre du poids ? Les aliments à éviter durant le petit déjeuner La plupart des gens aiment prendre du petit déjeuner à base de croissant et de pain. Cela permet de bien se nourrir pour affronter la journée. Il n’y a pas de mal à adopter une telle habitude alimentaire. Cependant, il s’implique de limiter autant que possible les sucres rapides. Ce sont les produits qui présentent un indice glycémique très élevé. En effet, les aliments qui sont riches en glucides favorisent une prise de poids rapide et risquent même de présenter des dangers sur la santé. Sur le long terme, en consommer tout le temps entraîne le diabète. Le matin, si vous mangez trop de produits sucrés, vous pourrez prendre du poids en un rien de temps. Vous devez dans ce cas éviter les confitures, les jus de fruits, les céréales sucrées, le pain de mie ainsi que les biscottes. Préférez une part de pain complet avec quelques fruits frais. Les gâteaux et les viennoiseries figurent en même temps comme des petits déjeuners à éviter avant de se rendre au boulot. Les aliments à bannir du déjeuner Après avoir passé une demi-journée au travail, vous avez certainement faim et vous voulez manger en quantité pour retrouver de la force. Il semble indispensable de prendre le déjeuner à partir de midi. Privilégiez des repas qui contiennent moins de viandes grasses. Selon les diététiciens, un secret pour maigrir plus vite, c’est de consommer des viandes maigres. Ces dernières ont une teneur en lipides de moins de 5 %. Evitez dans ce cas l’agneau, le mouton, le rôti, le bœuf ainsi que les volailles. Les poissons s’avèrent essentiels pour la santé, mais il en existe certains qui empêchent la perte de poids. Ce sont par exemple les cas des poissons fumés, des œufs ainsi que des poissons séchés. Vous avez la possibilité d’ajouter du poisson gras comme le saumon, la sardine ou le thon, sans faire de l’excès. En ce qui concerne la cuisson, limitez les fritures. Tout au long de la journée ou lors du dîner, les légumineuses comme les haricots sèches ne sont pas les bienvenus. Ce sont des nourritures qui favorisent le gonflement de l’estomac. Les légumes crus ainsi que les plats en sauce sont aussi à bannir. Sans oublier la junk food : les pizzas, les hamburgers, les frites, etc. Lors des fêtes, quels sont les aliments à éviter ? Lors des fêtes ou des cérémonies, il devient difficile de ne pas succomber à la tentation de tout manger. Pourtant, c’est surtout avant de dormir que le corps accumule facilement les graisses dans les aliments. À l’apéro, ne consommez pas les biscuits caloriques et sucrés. Laissez de côté les chips, les pistaches, les cacahouètes et les olives. Il est parfaitement possible de créer un apéro peu calorique. Pour les boissons, ne prenez pas de l’alcool calorique comme la vodka, le whisky ou encore le punch. Un verre de vin suffit. A lire également : Rôti de porc en croûte : le plat star pour épater vos invités Les fromages : peut-on en consommer ? Lorsque vous voyez un beau plateau de fromages, vous vous demandez s’il vous est possible d’en prendre. Pour ne rien regretter, évitez le boursin. Ce type de fromage procure une grande quantité de calories, ce qui n’aide pas à préserver la ligne. Le parmesan s’avère également très bon, mais contient plus de 390 calories pour seulement une part de 100 g. La charcuterie : à ne plus consommer au quotidien Dès l’enfance, le corps nécessite le suivi d’un régime alimentaire équilibré, aussi, il faut éviter quelques produits. C’est par exemple le cas des charcuteries comme le jambon, le saucisson, etc. Elles disposent une grande quantité de graisses ainsi que de sel qui favorisent la prise de poids. Pour se faire plaisir, misez plutôt sur des charcuteries à base de volaille. Read the full article

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britishhypermarket · 3 years

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thepartyplug · 8 months

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Jolly Rancher Solid Lolli Pops: A Burst of Flavor for Every Celebration

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spectracully · 4 years

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busy boy.

pairing : fratboy!jaemin x sororitygirl!reader warnings : drinking, mentions of drugs, a bit suggestive (but pls note that this isn’t smut), cursing, mentions of divorce genre : fluff, angst, college!au word count : 2.5k

summary : inspired by chloe x halle - busy boy. basically playing around with the local campus playboy, na jaemin for months is not the best thing, not the worst thing either.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You face yourself in the bathroom mirror, hands gripping the white sink. You saw him, right there. Dancing in the middle of the frat house’s living room with a girl in his arms. Na Jaemin, the boy you’ve been talking with for 3 months now, who recently just texted you “are you up?” on 9.15, and when you replied to him that you’re actually at his frat house, attending the party that Jaehyun hosts, he just texted you back one hour later by saying he’s with his family.

You’re malfunctioning right now, still dazed, don’t know whether it's because of the alcohol, the weed Lucas gave you, or it’s just you- believing his cheap lies. Cause when you think about it, who the fuck leaves the campus, go home and spend time with family in finals month? Yeah, you’re the one who’s dumb here, actually believing his lies. But who blames you for believing in the first place, anyway? You and your sorority sisters have arrived here since 8.30 anyway, an hour and half is long enough to get you lightheaded from the shots you take.

You glanced at your watch, it’s only 11.28 pm. About an hour since you read his text, and practically 34 minutes after you literally saw him. Facepalming yourself, you close the toilet seat and sit above it. It’s not even right in the middle of the night, but it has been a wild ride for you. It’s kinda frustrating when you are the one who actually started this game, you knew Jaemin is hell of a playboy on campus, yet you decided to get some taste of it just because he’s being a real gentleman with sweet words to you. Yeri was actually furious when she saw Jaemin dropped you off at the sorority house a few weeks ago, she warned you that you should dump him before you’re too attached, but you won’t listen. There it is, the fruit of not listening to Yeri’s 40 minutes lecture of how you should avoid men like Jaemin, Lucas, Yuta, Ten, Johnny and Jaehyun in your love life, big disappointment.

Finally catching your breath, you decided that it is time you get back outside, and actually do something about it, rather than being all somber and gloomy. Jaehyun threw a goddamn frat party in the middle of finals month to relax the fellow students’ mind, not for you to dwell on your sadness, in the bathroom. It’s embarrassing. And a disgrace for your sorority.

You head out, spotting Lucas who’s leaning by the counter with Hendery and Jungwoo. They’re probably hitting more blunt and having some existential crisis over a potato chip wrapping. You continue to scan across the house, only to catch a sight of Joy busy making out with Sungjae on the couch. Or Yeri, who’s currently twerking to Doja Cat’s song, totally shitfaced. You sighed, your friends are either high, shitfaced, or sucking a boy’s face out. You really wanna continue your search for your other sisters, but then suddenly a light brown haired boy appears in front of you.

“Hey, y/n, you alright? You look like you’ve been through 4 divorces.” he asks as he stares at you, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I just went through a fucking divorce. With your homeboy.” you answer him absentmindedly, pointing to the black haired boy who is wearing a black-white patterned wool sweater and a red shirt underneath, along with his slate-grey suit pants and a silver necklace. The boy in the topic is currently talking with the girl you saw earlier, being all smiley and shit.

Mark just laughs lightly as he sips his beer, “Oh him? Yeah he’s quite a busy boy. Probably went through countless divorces with half of the campus.” you chuckle at him, he knows what you’re talking about. All these girls never even had a proper official relationship with Jaemin, including you, but always ended up getting a nasty ass divorce without any reason. You know that, but you did not expect that you’d hang on up until now.

“You wanna do something about it?” Mark asks, nudging your elbow. He’s in a helpful mood now, probably because he is still not completely shitfaced or high. You glance at him, giving him a questioned look.

“Well.. I mean I would do it, but what? Kissing you in front of him so that he’ll get jealous? No, Mark. You know that his head is made out of a fucking rock, right?” You answer him, seizing his beer and take a big ass gulp.

“Hey, that’s my beer- What? Kiss you? Gross, dude. If you are looking for that guy, might as well run to Lucas or Jungwoo.” he lifts his eyebrows, slightly engrossed. You laugh at him, he’s a funny guy when he reacts to your silly jokes.

“Do I look like I wanna give you a kiss, Mark? No offense, but I don’t like crackly lipped boys.” you tease him, now he’s pouting and starts touching his lips, “Is it too crackly though? You have a lipbalm or something?” he asks

You continue to laugh while fishing the watermelon lipbalm out from your black leather jacket and pass it to him. He muttered a small thanks. You set the beer aside to the table then face him once more.

“Anyways, what should I do?” you eye him, who is now done applying the lipbalm.

“Drop your drink to the girl or something? Make sure he notices you dude.” he suggests, shrugging his shoulder.

“You’re dumb, Mark. It’ll cause a fucking catfight in the middle of party.” you deadpanned.

“Oh yeah, you have a point.” he swept his hair to the side, glancing at the whole party situation. That’s when you get the idea. Scratch kissing other boys in front of him, it’s probably the right time to call him the fuck out, you already have alcohol running in your system anyways, might as well go all out tonight, since everybody else also seems like already intoxicated by the liquors.

You lightly brush your hair, stretching your neck and praying to god that he’ll forgive you for what you are about to do. “Toodles, Mark. I’ll think a way when I get drunk, soon enough.” you wave him a goodbye, heading to the dining table to get a bottle of vodka, it’s half empty though, considering you’re being pessimistic tonight.

You chug the bottle with no mercy, wishing it’ll bring you straight to intoxication. You start to feel it kicking in, when you finish the last drop of the vodka. Banging the bottle to the nearby table, you make your way to Jaemin, who is currently sitting on the staircase by himself, checking his phone.

“Ooh, busy boy, aren’t you?” you ask him, not giving anymore fucks. He looks up to you, who is currently squinting at him, face reddening from the alcohol heat. He stares at you, biting his lip.

“Y/n. You’re drunk.” he says lightly as he stands up, tucking strands of your hair to the back of your ear. You squirm from his action. As much as you want to punch him in the face for playing with your emotions, you really miss his touch.

“I am not! Jaemiiiiin, why did you lie to meeeee?” you whine loudly to him on purpose, placing his hand on your face, pouting. Your plan worked, a few people turned their heads to you and Jaemin. He just sighs and snorts, smelling the strong liquor scent that slipped out of your lips. You can feel Yeri is probably trying to kill you with her glare, you know how much she hates Jaemin.

“Listen, baby, what are you trying to pull?” Jaemin whispers close to your ear. You’re not that sure whether it’s because of the loud music blasting in the whole house, or it’s just Jaemin’s voice. Whatever it is, your ears are tingling, sending funny sensations down to your spine.

Jaemin is pissed, you know it damn well from his tone, stern and strong. Oh yes, you love it so much, pissing him off, probably you’ll start humiliating him more and more in his own frat home, because that’s what he deserves for playing with you, and some other random girls.

“Don’t baby me, Jaemin! You said you were with your family, and then I saw you with some random girl!” you shout. At this point, you don’t really care about what others think of you, because they can clearly see you’re being drunk and probably will shrug it off. If that’s what it takes to call Jaemin out in a huge crowd, then you’ll take it. You have nothing to lose, anyway, they’ll agree with you, they all know Jaemin is a big flirt.

And there it is, the anger and humiliation fills Jaemin up. He pulls your wrists, practically dragging you upstairs. You liked it, don’t know why, it’s just fun, making him mad when it’s actually you, who should’ve been mad in the first place. He rushes you to get into his shared bedroom with Jeno and Renjun. Amused, you quickly sit on his bed, acting like you’re dumb.

He shuts the door behind him, crossing his arms. “What’s this all about, baby?”

You snort, “I think you know, Jaemin. You’ve been messing around me for 2 months- or what, I actually lost count because you’re such a busy boy.”

He widen his eyes, “I don’t-”

“Oh shut up, are you surprised that I actually last longer than all your pretty girls?” you stand up, you can’t contain the anger anymore.

“Listen, baby, I-”

“I said, don’t baby me when you do that to probably other 7 girls!” you shout, glaring at him, who is currently freezing on his space.

He sighs and sweeps his hair in frustration, licking his lips. “Will you listen to me first, at least?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms while glancing at his study desk. Nicely decorated, and you can see his family photograph neatly placed in a small frame. You noticed that he’s quite a reader too, judging from his book collection compared to Jeno and Renjun.

“First, I gotta admit, you last longer than other girls, yes. And second, it’s because I want to keep you-” he starts, taking a seat next to you,

You scoffed, “Keep me? You think I’m some kind of puppy that follows you around, Jaemin? You’re being such a dick right now! Do you think that I’m just some kind of wh-”

“Can you not interrupt me, baby? I’m talking.” he growls, placing his hand to your thigh. You can feel your cheeks heat up from his actions. Jaemin, being Jaemin, can sense that you’re actually flustered, he lightly squeeze your thigh, just to see your cheeks redden even more. God, he’s such a flirt.

“But first, I got to be honest with you, I was torn between ghosting you or continuing. That explains the lie a lot.” he clears his throat, looking into your eyes. You’re not giving him a reaction (except the fact that you’re already as red as a fucking cooked lobster from his hand placement), just like he said, don’t interrupt him.

“I mean- after all those messing around, I grow tired of it. I-I don’t even want to flirt anymore, I want to be comforted.. Those girls, those people.. They know I’m not serious and they do the same, y/n. We just kinda.. Have a good time and dipped.”

You’re still sitting in silence, eyes fixed on Jaemin, who now looks flustered. This is not Jaemin at all, he’s usually cocky, cheeky, and flirty, just exactly like a few seconds ago. He usually throws wink here and there, but now he actually looks… vulnerable.

“I was surprised you’re still holding on for like 3 months.. Those girls won’t even last for 2 days, y/n. It’ll end up me ghosting them or vice versa, no one ever had a second date with me. But you, you can’t seem to give up when I’m not replying, don’t you?” he chuckles as he looks at you softly,

You giggle at him a little, “Yes. I’m THAT dumb, Jaemin.” you admit to him. In reality, you know it, you know when he’s not replying, he’s probably with some other girls. But you are being deadass, you just don’t know what possessed you, you just keep on texting him like it’s nothing.

He rubs the back of his neck, “I was actually scared that you’ll dump me when I develop actual feelings to you.. Or worse, what if I break your heart after we have something? I mean, if I have to, I’d break it now, so the pain is not too harsh. That’s why I keep on lying to you, and maybe, not replying to your messages.”

At first, you feel bad from hearing him speak truthfully. But after he opened his mouth again, you can feel the anger slowly rising again through your veins. He is very very selfish and self-centered. Is this how he show his true color? A man with a big ego? That’s it?

You tilted your head, “Fuck you. Really. Then why did you start the conversation, Jaemin? You could’ve told me how you felt and we’re set. But I can see-”

He shakes his head, interrupting your words, “I-I told you, y/n. I’m very torn between wanting to pursue you, or letting you go. That’s why I often not replying right after I texted you. I’m sorry, I really do.”

You’re angry. You’re sad. But you’re confused that you’re a little happy too, hearing him speak from the bottom of his heart. But that’s very selfish of him, doing those acts to you. He could’ve told you what he actually feels way earlier than this, so you can make sure what are you two doing, instead of playing pointless games of ghosting and chasing around again.

“I see. You’re so fucking selfish, Jaemin. We talked for months and this is all I got? Am I not worth of your explanation from the start? I know you wouldn’t do anything if I hadn’t drag your ass in the middle of the fucking party!” you stand up, you can no longer hide your disappointment to him, tears start rolling down your face.

His heart breaks a little, watching bundle of tears fall from your eyes. He is the heartbreaker, but those girls were never crying when he ghosted them after they had fun, those girls would catch another boys and forget about Jaemin right away. This is Jaemin’s first ever experience, seeing a girl crying because of what he did.

He knows that he’s an asshole for playing fire, but now he feels like he is THE asshole. He broke your heart right on, and it breaks his heart right back.

You sigh deeply, trying to catch a breath after a few sobs. “Don’t fucking find me. Have fun with your girls.” you look at his eyes with full of anger and hate. With heavy steps, you walk to the door, thinking about things you’re about to do once you get downstairs, probably joining Lucas and the gang, stoning yourself out, so you don’t have to think about Jaemin and his stupid beautiful face.

Just when you try to reach the door knob, you can feel Jaemin is grabbing onto your hand.

“Y/n, I am truly sorry.. After what you did earlier, I realized that I’m a big fucking loser. I can’t even admit my feelings. When you call me out earlier, I just wanna dissolve into thin air. I can’t handle the shame of being such a dick, I should’ve told you what I feel instead of making uncertain decisions.”

You turn to him, seeing his eyes glimmering, probably because of the tears pooling up. You’re hurt, you want to push him away as far as possible, you want to see him suffer. Hell, you just want him to extinct. But seeing him like this, you can’t lie to your own feelings, you like him. You really do. But just like your sorority sisters taught you, yourself comes first, not those stupid silly boys who just fuck around.

“Goodbye, Jaemin.” you say to him, holding back more tears coming in.

Just when you’re getting ready to reach the doorknob for the second time, he pulls you into his arms. You want to let go of him, but he’s strong, and you- actually wanting this for so long. You hate him, but you have feelings for him. You can’t help but stay on his embrace.

And then... There it is, the feels. It comes back, the way you hide yourself from Yeri whenever you pick up his calls, or maybe the late night drive to nearby McDonalds, or maybe flirting through the notes you pass during class, or maybe the first kiss you shared with him in front of your sorority house, and ended up being scolded by Yeri and Joy.

You realized that it was a stupid crush with the stupid playboy Na Jaemin, but you enjoyed your time with him. You remembered how he likes to send you goodnight selfies, or maybe the way he pouts a lot when driving. Those 3 months of on-and-off-unofficial-relationships with him, is actually making you feel things.

“Y/n, I know I don’t deserve you, but really.. This time, I mean it. I promise, I won’t mess around. Please, I know I’ve been such a dick, but if you just give me one more chance, y/n.. But I completely understand, if you hate me, and you probably want to slam me to death, and I will allow you-”

You look up to him and grabbed his face, crashing his lips into yours. He tastes like cherry soda, with a hint of cigarettes. He seems like enjoying the kiss, he cupped your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. You can feel his hands travel around your body, only to land in your hips.

You want to trust him this time. He promised you. He meant it. He will take care of you. And you trust him, this time.

“Alright, busy boy. I do want to slam you, though... But remember, just because you’re so damn fine, I won’t even think twice to dump your ass if you act up.” you warn him.

The tears you shed just bloomed into giggles and smiles. The inconsistency between the 3 months before finally disappeared, and reborn again into a new promise.

He nods. “Believe me baby, you’re the one who wants to be slammed right now.” he teases you, glancing to his bed. You can feel your cheeks reddening again, you lightly hit him, and he laughs. He’s a cheeky boy.

“Busy boy, huh?” he giggles, “Your busy boy.”

The anger within you is released now. No more chasing around like a fool, no more getting late replies from Jaemin, no more nights of hoping that he’d reply, because he’s only busy for you now.

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mcwriting · 3 years

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Just Friends

sooooo... I know I've said I don't write smut, but I will write *barely* sfw stuff if I'm in the mood :)

College AU because that's my current aesthetic lol. Not explicit but defo spicier than what I normally write

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 2078

Warnings: light language, alcohol consumption, implied (consensual) sex

✧

The music was loud with a deep bass, reverberating through your spine as you carried a half-drank solo cup of indiscriminate alcohol and red fruit punch.

"Tom. I'm not feeling it tonight," you basically yelled to your best friend, a proud member of the fraternity whose basement you were in. "This just doesn't hit like it used to."

You were both going into your senior year of college, having been friends ever since your freshman dorm rooms ended up right next to each others.

Now that you and your friends were all legal, going to the frathouse instead of a bar just seemed unnecessary. The only reason you were really there was because Tom and his best friend Harrison were officers and had to live in-house.

Tom had only had a couple beers within the past hour, trying to stay steady with you, though you weren't even experiencing a light buzz.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to lean down to your ear.

"Whadd'ya want to do then?" he asked.

"Can we just go back to my place? We've got some alcohol in the apartment," you answered. He nodded. "Let's go find Emily first, make sure she doesn't want a ride, too."

You both made your way around, finally seeing your roommate and Harrison making out in one corner of the room, one hand holding a red solo cup and the other cupping his face.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed her shoulder, pulling them apart.

"Heeeeyyy. What are you two up to?" she asked, turning around and pressing her back up against the blonde who then wrapped both arms around her stomach, resting a chin on her shoulder.

"We're gonna go drink at the apartment, " you called, trying to get her to hear over the music. "Do you want to go in the uber with us?"

She shook her head.

"Nah, I think I'll stay here if Haz is cool with it."

"You know I'm always cool with you staying over," he added, spinning her around.

"Okay, well then you two know the drill," you started, "if you even think about taking advantage of her I'll-"

"You'll cut my dick off," he finished, "yeah, yeah, I know. I would never, I swear."

Harrison put a hand over his heart for good measure.

Your stern look turned to a grin.

"Alright you two, stay safe and all that jazz. See you tomorrow."

You were waving bye when Emily called out behind you,

"Don't forget to use condoms!"

You blushed like mad, and Tom did, too.

You were just friends, after all. Only friends.

Both of you went through the rest of the house in silence, going outside to wait for your driver. You crossed your arms in frustration over your chest.

"I can't believe Emily would try to embarrass us like that! She knows we're just friends! Now that whole party thinks we left to hook up."

"Come on, y/n. The music was too loud. If anyone heard it was like two other people and they're freshman. Who cares what they think?"

You laughed at his response as he squeezed your side again, trying to get you to loosen up and smile again. You couldn't help but comply as the driver pulled up.

✧

Tom was hunched over looking through your fridge when you exited your bedroom, having already removed any makeup and changed into sweats.

He stood up when he heard you.

"What all do you want to- is that my shirt?"

You looked down, then shrugged.

"Huh. Guess so. You can have it back if you want it," you said, starting to pull up up over your sports bra when he stopped you.

"No, no. It's fine. Looks better on you anyways," he quipped, shutting the fridge door. You couldn't help but smile at that last comment as you pulled it back down. "Speaking of clothes of mine, do you still have my grey sweats?"

It wasn't long before he had changed as well, wearing the pants he'd left from the last time and one of your XL sweatshirts.

"Are you sure this sweatshirt isn't mine, too?" he asked, tugging on it.

"Since when do you wear oversized sweatshirts, Tom?"

He paused and looked up.

"Oh, right. Never. Thanks for washing these pants for me."

It wasn't a strange occurrence for Tom to spend the night at your apartment, usually to get out of the frat house every so often. He typically took the couch or your air mattress and kept some clothes in your closet.

He hit his hands together, then rubbed them.

"Now that we've got that out of the way. What shall we drink?"

You were originally just going to finish a bottle of wine as you watched "The Wedding Planner" together on the couch, but then Tom discovered the bottles of tequila and vodka in the freezer during the scene where Mary gets drunk.

"Come on, babe. We've gotta do at least one shot. It would be way more entertaining."

"I can't imagine that either of us needs to be drunk to find JLo and Matthew McConaughey entertaining, but fine," you replied, getting up to pull out the shot glasses from the cabinet.

"I shouldn't have told you to look for the ice cream," you lamented, causing him to laugh.

About 20 minutes after a shot each, you were both curled up on the couch together, the alcohol hitting as the story was beginning to wrap up.

You felt a little awkward watching the characters confess their love for each other as you were leaning on Tom's side, his arms caressing you.

But you were just friends, right?

Yeah, but your drunk brain couldn't ignore the flashing sign inside that seemed to scream "but you're also kinda into him!"

And it was right.

You'd had subtle feelings for him since probably sophomore year, after having playfully hated each other throughout freshman year.

You liked to blame that sentiment on the fact that your beds had been against the same wall and you could often hear each other doing just about everything.

"I just don't get how people weren't more mad at her going after an engaged man!" Tom said, snapping you from your thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. But I mean she did try to avoid him for a while, I guess," you replied, not quite slurring but your words coming out just a little but slow.

Tom switched on a random TV channel after credits started rolling and shifted a bit, still holding you tight.

"You doing okay?" he asked. You nodded.

"Yeah, I think I'm already coming down. You were kind of right, though. Drunk watching gave me a whole new perspective."

"Oh yeah? and what's that?"

You could feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke, making you close your eyes sleepily.

"Hmm. I'm not actually sure."

He laughed at your response and then you both fell into a comfortable silence, both of you relishing in each other's warmth.

After a little bit, you sat up, rubbing your eyes and stretching.

"You good?" he asked again.

"Yep, just gonna run to the bathroom real quick."

You stood up, taking slow steps. Your thoughts were no longer clouded but your coordination wasn't quite there yet.

By the time you returned, Tom had gotten you some water glasses and returned to the couch. This time, you laid down so you could rest your head in his lap and look at your phone as he stroked your hair.

After a while of scrolling through social media and showing Tom the occasional picture, you closed the phone and set it on your chest.

You looked up and Tom and wondered aloud,

"What do you think Em and Haz are up to now?"

"Is that really a question? Smashing."

You snorted.

"Gosh those two don't know how to keep their hands off of each other. I can't believe it took them so long to figure out they were into each other. 'Just friends' my ass."

Tom gave an awkward chuckle of his own.

"Hey, that's our line."

You could feel the tension in that response, not sure how to respond as you continued to study Tom's face.

"We should probably start getting ready for bed," he suggested. "I can start blowing up the air mattress if you wanna go brush your teeth and stuff."

You had sat up but stopped him.

"Wait... will you... do you want to just sleep in my bed tonight?"

"What? Then where will you sleep? On the couch?"

You were a little stunned at his oblivious answer.

"I- what? No. I meant... do you want to share the bed with me? It's plenty big for two people."

He eyes widened.

"Oh... oh! Okay I get it now. Uh, sure. As long as you're sure. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"Tom, I mean it. I want you to," you plead.

You were eventually getting ready to crawl into bed when you faced Tom, sitting back against the mattress.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked once again, making you grin. You reached up and pulled him into a hug.

"I promise, Tom. I really do."

You both pulled away just enough for your faces to be in front of each other, not even an inch apart. Your heart was racing, tension higher than ever between you.

It felt like forever staring at each other. You weren't really sure who moved first but suddenly your lips were crashing into each other's with a fiery passion, hands roaming each other's bodies for the first time like you were starved for touch.

Somehow you had flipped and made it onto the bed, you on top of Tom as you rode his leg.

It wasn't long before shirts were removed, too, and bare skin was against bare skin.

"Mmm... Where... um... condom?" Tom asked between kisses, both of you breathing heavily.

You paused and sat up, straddled over his hips, thinking. It had been a while since you'd needed one of those.

You slid off of him and went to the bathroom, reaching deep into the back of the sink cabinet, thankful to find that the box wasn't expired. When you stood up, you almost laughed at the way your face was flushed and hair unruly.

When you returned, Tom was sitting up looking at you, brows raised.

"So we really doing this?" he asked. You couldn't help but smile, thankful for his respectful nature.

"I am if you are."

It didn't take long to fall back onto the bed again, eventually tiring yourselves out and falling asleep pressed against one another.

✧

You walked out of your bedroom, hair still wet from a shower, looking to make some coffee.

As the first mug brewed, Emily came through the door.

"Oh, hey!" she looked around. "Did Tom head back already? I must've missed him. I guess he slept on the couch since I don't see the air mattress anywhere."

You were unsure of how to answer, pausing as you leaned back against the counter.

Once you finally figured out something to say, you were interrupted by Tom opening the bedroom door. His own hair was also still wet, and he held your bedsheets in a clump in his arms.

"Hey y/n do you want me to stick these in with any clothes or- oh hey Emily," he said, not registering the situation as he passed by her to put the bundle in the washing machine.

Emily, on the other hand, was standing frozen in shock. She looked at you, pointing towards Tom, then back at you, a hand then reaching up to cover her mouth.

"Oh my... I- did you two..?" her fingers wiggled back and forth between you two. You couldn't help but blush. "Holy shit, you did!"

Tom turned and walked to you with a maniacal grin, standing in front you as he reached past your body to grab the filled coffee cup.

"It's definitely possible," he answered her, leaning down to press a kiss on top of one of the hickeys he'd left on your neck.

"Finally! 'Just friends' my ass," she said, unknowingly paralleling your own comment about her. She was about to open her mouth again when you cut her off this time.

"Yes, Em. We used condoms. Now tell me if I've got any dicks to cut off."

✧

A/N: byeeee I don't know how to feel about this. On the one hand I'm pretty proud of it but also this is nothing like how I am as a person or how I usually write so I'm definitely out of my comfort zone here haha

Hope you all enjoyed though! If you did please leave a like or reply or something! I have more one shots similar to this in mind if anyone wants more like it!

Thanks for reading!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

@jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @justafangirlduh

#just friends #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #tom holland one shot #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic

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gohyuck · 4 years

Text

pairing: best friend!mark x reader; some neighbor!jaemin x reader

genre: university!au, angst, slight smut

word count: 4.7k

warnings: unrequited love ft. oblivious mark, sex that ends in crying, general heartbreak because what else would it be

playlist recs: heather - conan gray, cayendo - frank ocean, i found - amber run, fools - troye sivan, from here - kafka tamura, drive safe - rich brian

I still remember Third of December Me in your sweater You said it looked better On me, than it did you Only if you knew How much I liked you

“I fucking hate frats,” You grumble, dabbing furiously at the front of your shirt with a crumpled napkin. There’s red - remnants of what you think must be jungle juice - scattered across the yellow cloth of your top, and you just know it’ll remain stained for eternity. “This cost, like, ten bucks at Walmart! I don’t have that kind of money to throw away, you know.”

“That’s just an hour’s worth of wages from the bookstore.” Mark, your best friend, points out, handing you another napkin when you exhaust the one in your hand. There’s mirth in his eyes and the threat of a laugh underlying his tone, but the warning glare you throw at him has him putting his hands up in surrender instead of making fun of you.

“God,” It’s only when someone pushes past you, opening the door behind you to get inside the cursed party house you’d been so quick to rush out of, that you realize just how cold it is outside. The warmth emanating from the inside of the house you feel against your back is short-lived as the door slams shut, but the damage is done: you’re already hyper-aware of what you don’t have. “God, it’s freezing, what the hell?”

“This is literally an end-of-semester party,” Mark, ever perspicacious, points out, adding insult to your injury without a second thought. “It’s early December. Be glad it isn’t snowing.”

“I’m in a t-shirt,” You only whine in response, ignoring everything your friend has said. The night hasn’t gone your way, and if Mark wasn’t here with you you wouldn’t have come at all. Unluckily for you, Mark Lee is popular amongst fraternity circles on account of being Jaehyun Jung’s hometown neighbor and friend, so you find yourself attending parties intermittently. If you could say no to Mark, maybe you wouldn’t smell vaguely of vodka and artificially flavored fruit punch right now.

“I’m in a t-shirt,” You repeat, ignoring any and all thoughts of your best friend you’re having, as always. “And it’s wet which is making me even colder. I hate it here.”

Mark only rolls his eyes, though you’re surprised to see him shrug off his windbreaker before pulling his black sweater over his head to reveal a thin white shirt. He hands it to you wordlessly before pulling his jacket back on and zipping it up, and when you only stare at the piece of clothing he’s given you, he has the audacity to laugh.

“I’m tired of your complaining,” He explains when your gaze meets his, though he jovially knocks his shoulder against yours when your eyes narrow momentarily. “And besides, you always look better in it than I do. Before you ask, I’m not cold anyways, so it’s all good.”

You don’t miss the comment about you looking better in it than he does. For a moment, just a moment before you pull the proverbial wool over your eyes and black polyester over your head, you imagine that he actually means it. He does let you borrow it an awful lot, after all: it’s in your dresser half as often as it’s in his.

“I wasn’t going to ask,” You huff out a lie, putting an arm through before pulling the rest of the sweater on. You’re immediately met with Mark’s cologne, and you pull his sleeves over your hands into sweater paws on habit. His clothes are always just a little long on you. “You’re like a human furnace.”

“Whatever dude,” Mark rolls his eyes again, though there’s fondness evident in them. “Come on - I’ll walk you back to your place.” He loops his arm through yours in a way you’ve gotten dangerously used to, dragging you away from the Nu Kappa Theta house.

He keeps his word, leaving you right in front of your door. When you go to take off his sweater, he stops you, telling you that there’s no rush to get it back to him. A quick hug and a short goodbye later, Mark is walking down the hallway, hands shoved into his jeans’ pockets. You watch as he gets to the stairwell, so desperately wanting him to turn back.

He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t - you aren’t Heather. You fall asleep in his sweater hours later, still drowning in his cologne. Come morning, you fold it neatly and place it in the bottom drawer of your dresser, out of sight and out of mind.

But I watch your eyes, as she walks by What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerized While I die

You still remember the first time you’d seen her. It was mundane, really - she’d sat next to you during your first Computing class of the semester, and you’d introduced yourself to her and found her to be a sweet girl, the kind of girl people like being around. There wasn’t anything past that - the two of you went on with your lives, sometimes making idle conversation in class. You hadn’t thought much of your meeting with her until later.

Far more importantly, frankly, you remember the first time Mark had seen her, even if he doesn’t remember it himself. You’d been lounging under a tree, Mark’s back against the bark while you had your head in his lap. He’d been rambling on and on about something Donghyuck had said during their intramural dance team’s practice when he’d stopped speaking mid-sentence, forcing you to turn your head to see where his eyes were leading him.

Heather, in a pleated skirt and a beige sweater over a pristine white button down. She’d looked positively radiant while standing in the grass and laughing with friends, the sun shining brightly directly behind her. Mark, feeling your eyes looking up at his slack-jawed expression, had unfrozen eventually, raising a hand to scratch at the nape of his neck out of embarrassment. He’d been about to launch back into his story - this time likely punctuated by glances over at the other girl - when you’d interrupted him before he could begin.

“Her name’s Heather,” You’d told him, mentally kicking yourself even as you spoke. Who tells the love of their life the name of someone they’re obviously ogling? You hate the value you place on your friendship with Mark almost as much as you hate the fact that you’re in love with him. “She’s in one of my classes. She’s really nice, if you’re into that.”

“Of course I am,” Mark had muttered then, ears burning red. “Why wouldn’t I be into nice people?”

“You spend all your time hanging with me and Hyuck.” You’d pointed out, reaching a hand up to poke at his chin. He’d flicked your fingers away from him, though he’d immediately grabbed your hand right after, holding it tight for a moment on impulse and as if to show you he’d never really hurt you.

You’d wished the constant Mark-inflicted ache you’d felt - feel, still - was physical.

“You’re nice, dude,” Mark had insisted then, finally looking down at you. You’d felt suddenly insecure then, realizing that the angle you were at wasn’t the most flattering. There was no way you could compete to Heather, not with your disheveled hair and eyes that pierced through Mark like arrows. You’d wrapped your arms around yourself in insecurity and Mark had thought nothing of it, only continuing to speak. “You’re nice enough, at least, when you aren’t kicking my ass. Hyuck is… a thought best left for another day.”

You’d laughed then, and Mark had responded in kind. The rest of your break between classes had been spent like that: talking and laughing with your favorite person, irreplaceable by all accounts.

If he hadn’t chanced glances at Heather throughout it, you might’ve been able to consider that he found you irreplaceable in the same way you found him.

Mark hadn’t been subtle then.

He isn’t subtle now.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better Wish I were Heather

Mark asks for the sweater back the day before you leave for winter break. Your flatmate is staying back - has research to work on through Christmas - so you’re free to visit your parents back home, and although you dread all the questions you’ll be asked, you can’t help but feel the slightest bit excited.

“I’ll drop by and pick it up before I head out, then,” Mark says, voice still warm as ever even as the phone makes him sound the slightest bit tinny. “What time is good for you?”

“I’ll be at the bus stop by 5,” You respond, phone between your shoulder and your ear and heart between your mouth and your chest as you pull his polyester sweater out of your dryer. “Come by any time before then.”

He drops past your place a little before 4, eyes sparkling when he tells you that Heather only lives about a half an hour away from him, so he’s taking her with him on his drive home. You muster the brightest smile you can when you tell him how wonderful that is, all while handing back the sweater that smells like your own detergent for now but you’re sure will soon smell like Heather’s perfume.

A week after seeing Heather for the first time, Mark had, by chance, joined your university’s Literature Club, not knowing that the girl who’d stolen his breath was a member. He’d had the same sparkle in his eyes when he’d regaled his first conversation with her to you, talking for ages about her opinions on The Picture of Dorian Gray and Slaughterhouse-Five. They’d clicked immediately, in his words. Two fitting puzzle pieces.

You’d bawled like a baby into your flatmate’s arms once your best friend had left your apartment that night, feeling entitled to the tears after so many hours of half real (you truly were happy for him) and half fake (you truly were sad for yourself) smiles.

It’s been three months since then. Heather and Mark aren’t dating just yet, but they’re an inevitability. You remind yourself of that after Mark leaves, sweater in hand and a promise to text you once he gets home sliding off his tongue.

He messages you a picture - a selfie of him and a smiling Heather - five hours later, a ‘we’re home safe!’ text accompanying it. It isn’t a surprise to you that she’s wearing the black polyester sweater in the photo, but it still stings nonetheless.

Mark had said you look better in the sweater than he does. Heather looks far better in it than you do.

When you reach your own home, you’re not alarmed to see Jaemin, your next-door neighbor who’s home from his own school for break, sitting at your kitchen counter and eating grapes out of a plastic bowl. His parents and your parents are great friends, and you’ve always gotten along fairly well with him. His hair is dyed a light blue, gelled back slightly to show his forehead, and he smiles the same cheeky smile he’s had since his sophomore year of high school at you. Jaemin’s always been breathtakingly handsome, always been as good looking as he is just good. He’d been a decent friend to you when you’d lived here, close enough to tell secrets to but not so close that he’d reveal them to anyone.

Jaemin had been your first kiss way back when, had been your first time barely after that, and you allow yourself to see the purely sexual tension that still exists between the two of you. You feel nothing but friendship - maybe just acquaintanceship - for him, and he for you. It’s perfect.

When both sets of parents go out for dinner, unable to drag the two of you out with them, you pull Jaemin up the stairs to your childhood bedroom to ride him frantically as if you’ll never feel this good again. He coaxes not one but two orgasms from you, cool hands roaming your body and nails raking gently over your thighs. Jaemin fucks up into you when you can’t move any longer, when your thighs shake from overwork, and he doesn’t complain, not once.

He pulls you down to him, bites your shoulder hard when he cums, spilling into the condom he’d managed to get on in the rush to be inside of you. When you don’t pull off of him afterwards, instead only beginning to sob quietly into his shoulder, he’s kind enough to run his hands over the span of your back to soothe you.

“That bad, huh?” He jokes, not letting you go. His hands are warm now. You shake your head adamantly even as you know he’s kidding before muttering a ‘it’s not you, it’s Mark’ into his skin.

“Did you just ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ me?” Jaemin questions, this time more confused than anything. You shake your head again, your tears glistening against his collarbone as you pull away enough to look him in the eyes.

“Mark. It’s Mark,” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. You’ve never voiced it aloud before - that it’s Mark. That it might just always be Mark. Jaemin’s okay, though - Jaemin won’t tell. How could he? He doesn’t even know Mark.

Your childhood neighbor stares at you, though not unkindly, for a long moment before nodding slowly in understanding and pulling you into his chest once more for a tight embrace. He doesn’t ask any questions - you assume he just gets it.

Jaemin manages to finger you to one more climax like that, with you curled up in his lap and your head against his chest. He murmurs sweet nothings that really mean nothing into your ear as he does, and you find that you could get used to this. You won’t, but you could. When you cum again, you only whimper and moan, incapable of forming words.

Mark’s name is on the tip of your tongue, and even though Jaemin would understand if you say it, you don’t. You can’t tempt yourself with a reality that isn’t available for you. It would be too cruel.

By the time your parents and Jaemin’s parents get back home, you’re wearing a sweatshirt you hadn’t been wearing earlier, mainly to hide Jaemin’s bite mark. You hug your neighbor goodbye, and he whispers a ‘it’ll be okay’ into your neck before pulling away, giving you a soft version of his devilish grin and waving before leaving with his mom and dad.

Maybe it will be okay someday, but for now, God, how you wish you were Heather.

You only text Mark back right before you go to bed, a quick ‘damn, guess i’ll have to hire a better hitman next time. for you, not for heather, she’s lovely’ before you rest. Is she at his house, her head against his chest as they talk about books or movies or whatever they talk about? Or is she on her way home right now, wishing for more time with Mark?

Your sleep is dreamless that night, despite the thoughts of Mark and Heather, Heather and Mark that run through your mind constantly. It’s the one stroke of luck you have.

Watch as she stands with Her holding your hand Put your arm 'round her shoulder Now I'm getting colder

You sleep with Jaemin intermittently during your break, finding quite quickly that he’s very willing to solely be a receptacle of your pent-up urges catalyzing. It’s hard to have sex with people at school because you’re always aware that Mark could be waiting at your apartment with food when you get back, or that he could be texting you while you’re getting laid. With Jaemin, you can truly push Mark out of your mind, if only just for a moment.

It’s good that you find a momentary respite in your childhood neighbor, because once you’re back on campus, it feels like the universe is purposefully tugging your stars out of their alignments just to torture you.

The weather still leaves much to desire, and although it isn’t as cold as it had been in December, you still carry a hoodie around with you wherever you go. They’re easy to pull over long-sleeved shirts and sweaters; after all, Heather’s always pulling Mark’s favorite forest green hoodie over the familiar black sweater that she wears.

Before, it had just been you, Mark, and occasionally Hyuck getting together and hanging out. At restaurants, you and Mark would sit on the same side, sharing appetizers while Hyuck actively guarded his food from your roaming hands. Now, when you go out to eat, you sit beside Donghyuck, Heather right across from you with her perfect smile and kind eyes while Mark sits right beside her, leaning back with his arm thrown over the booth behind her easily.

She’s genuine: when she asks about your hobbies, your likes, your dislikes, she truly wants to know. It’s good of her: after all, you’re one of the most important people in Mark’s life. You figure she must know that, the closer she gets to your best friend, the closer she should get to you.

You appreciate it. You also hate it.

When Heather gets up mid-lunch to go to the bathroom, parting from the three of you for the moment with a dazzling grin and an airy laugh that makes Mark visibly redden, the boy she’s wooing turns to you and your other friend, eyes full of hope. Donghyuck arches an eyebrow even as he knows what the other man is about to say.

“Man, isn’t she literally the best? There’s something between us, right? I should ask her out?” Mark’s running a hand through his hair as he speaks, a nervous habit he’s had the whole time you’ve known him (freshman year Intro to Film, he’d spilled his cold coffee all over you and panic-offered you his black sweater to wear as a cover-up and, the rest, as they say, is history).

“She’s on the higher end of the cool spectrum, yes there’s something, and it’s your life, dude, I can’t tell you who to date or not date.” Donghyuck responds before you can, and you catch him darting his eyes over at you in mild concern as he speaks. You haven’t told him about how you feel about Mark, but you’re sure he’s known for some time. He’s nothing if not deductive.

Mark rolls his eyes, mutters something about Hyuck always being the bare minimum amount of helpful, and then looks you directly in your eyes, waiting for your verdict. In that moment you know that he’ll seriously consider whatever you say, that if you don’t like Heather, he’ll do his best to dislike her too. Friendship above all else.

The word friendship leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, even if you value it so highly.

“Ask her out,” You finally say, the corners of your mouth quirking up together. The smile you wear doesn’t reach your eyes, but Mark’s too elated to notice. Under the table, Hyuck gently rests a warm hand against your knee for a split second, a show of ‘I’m here’ that you’re grateful for.

Before you can continue speaking - what would you even say? - Heather is sliding back into her seat, back from the bathroom. You can’t very well talk about her while she’s there, so you close your mouth inconspicuously, watching as Mark puts his arm around her shoulders rather than against the booth this time, pulling her just a little closer to his side.

You’re wearing two layers of clothing, but the air suddenly feels freezing. Donghyuck casually hands you a fry off his own plate, not keeping his food all to himself for the first time ever.

You accept it, even though it’s cold by now. Bleakness added upon bleakness changes nothing.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel But then again, kinda Wish she were dead, as she Walks by What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than a blue sky She's got you mesmerized While I die

He asks Heather out a week later with a bouquet of flowers you help him pick our just hours before his trek to her apartment. Donghyuck comes over the night of your florist trip - your flatmate had left for a trip the night earlier, leaving you a tub of ice cream and a pile of 80s movies as a placeholder for human comfort - and holds you for hours, not saying anything as you sob through The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Stand & Deliver.

“I w- I wish she didn’t exist,” You hiccup into your friend’s shirt as he rests his chin on top of your head. “And then I feel awful because she’s just so nice. She’s always so nice. He likes her because she’s so nice.”

“It hurts worse when they’re nice, especially when you’re also nice,” He murmurs into your hair, pulling you closer into his chest. “Because then you can’t plot ways to get revenge without ending up being the asshole.”

“The jilted ex,” You agree, though it only causes you to cry harder. “Except I’m - I’m not even an ex.”

“Someday, you’ll be glad that you aren’t one of his exes.” Donghyuck assures you, and you know he’s right so you say nothing else, only wrapping your arms tighter around him. The healing process for your heartbreak starts then, as you stain your friend’s thin shirt with your tears and he rubs soothing circles into your back. Your heart might just sew itself back together.

The single stitch holding the halves of your heart together rips easily when Mark brings breakfast to your doorstep the next morning, obvious hickies dotting his collarbone once he pulls off his white pullover. The sight alone makes you feel like your lungs are airless and will forever remain so, and you realize that you’ll have to start healing all over again.

Still, you welcome your best friend into your apartment for breakfast like you do every Sunday morning, right before he goes to Church. Mark’s bought bagels today, from the café at the end of the block, and once he’s prayed like he always does before eating he spreads strawberry cream cheese all over one half of his bagel while talking about how well his ask had gone and thanking you for your floral expertise.

“I just thought they looked pretty,” You shrug, mentally begging for him to stop relating you to any aspect of his relationship. “No need to thank me.”

“I’ll always thank you, dude,” Mark says with ease, licking cream cheese off of his thumb. “You’re my best friend.” With this, he finishes off his breakfast, stands up from his chair at your breakfast nook, and wears his pullover again.

“Gotta pick Heather up, she said she wants to come to Church with me,” Mark says, and your heart twinges at how quickly she’s been introduced to the more intimate aspects of his life. You say nothing, only smile and nod, and Mark thinks nothing of it. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We literally have a class together.” You scoff, doing your best to banter with Mark like you always do. He rolls his eyes at your statement, though his grin never falls from his lips.

“I’ll see you,” Is all he says, before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. He’s halfway out your door before he turns back - turns back like you’d always wished for him to - and calls your name.

“Yes?”

“You really did do me a favor by helping me with the flowers,” Mark says, giving you the most grateful smile you’ve ever witnessed. “She said the bouquet had all her favorites. I don’t know how you do it. You’re a lifesaver. Love you!”

With that, he’s out the door, and you can only watch as it slams shut behind him, trapping in his last two words as they curl around you like currents, pushing you deeper into the water that’s drowning you. It’s platonic, of course it is, it always has been. Still, you believe that if you never hear those two words together again, you might be all the better.

The bouquet had all of your favorites, too.

You need to stop wishing you were Heather.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better I wish I were Heather Wish I were Heather Wish I were Heather

It’s a little less than three months later when you’re out shopping by yourself at the local mall, in desperate need for some winter clothes before the next year’s winter starts. Everything’s on sale now, and you’re not one to pay extra money for no reason at all. You’re sitting through a rack of jackets when your phone vibrates, and you fish it out of your pocket to find that Mark has texted you four images, accompanied with a message asking ‘which one should I post O.o’.

They’re all of Heather in that black polyester sweater - the one you used to wear often - at an ice skating rink, and you assume Mark’s just gotten home from a date. She’s grinning brightly at the camera in the first picture while finishing tying up her skates. In the second one, her back is to the camera and her head is turned to the side, her hand holding onto Mark’s as she leads them across the rink. She’s looking right at the camera in the third one as well, eyebrows raised sportingly as she sips hot chocolate from a styrofoam cup.

You tell Mark to go with the fourth one: a candid of her just stepping on to the rink, eyes wide but smile even wider. Her head is turned, though she can’t see that her side profile is being captured. She’s beautiful without effort in a way you refuse to find in the mirror, and you know the fact that Mark has even taken a picture of Heather without her posing means he wants to cherish every memory with her. It’s sweet, and you tell him so.

You pocket your phone before reading his response, doing your best not to let his earnestness affect you. Mark is a good man, and Heather is a good woman. They’re good for each other, and you’re good for both of them as a friend.

As you turn around to inspect another set of for-sale winter clothes, this time on a table rather than a rack, you realize that, over the past few months, you truly have done your best to try and move on. It had been slow at first, yes, but by throwing yourself into your studies, taking time for yourself, and hanging out more with Hyuck and your other friends - though not less with Mark - has done you good. The ache has weakened, the stinging has stopped, for the most part. You’ve killed almost all of your Mark-related hangups or fixations, almost all of them except…

You rest your palm on top of a light blue sweater - cotton, not polyester - and run your thumb over it, exhaling slowly and blowing air out through your barely-parted lips as you do. It’s pretty, and your size, and you’re in need of one, and the one sweater you used to wear the most isn’t available to you anymore.

Jaemin’s words from months ago echo in your mind: ‘it’ll be okay’. You grab the sweater and make your way to the cashier’s counter, suddenly not needing to buy anything else anymore.

The breath of air you take upon leaving the mall, sweater in bag in hand, feels like the first one you’ve taken in a while. As you settle into your car and turn the ignition key, placing your purchase on your passenger’s seat, you’re hit with a realization that you didn’t think you’d ever have.

It’s all okay...

And you’re starting to no longer wish you were Heather.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty You gave her your sweater It's just polyester, but you like her better Wish I were..

#neowritingsnet #kwritersworld #nct-writers #mark lee #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee smut #mark lee scenario #mark lee scenarios #jaemin #jaemin angst #jaemin fluff #jaemin smut #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct 127 scenario

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