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caitlinbueckers · 8 months ago

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told you so.

kate martin x reader

2.9k

woooooh this is a fucking doozy guys. literally received one (1) anon and then i blacked out for an hour and a half soooo here’s this ! realized during this journey that kate martin means an unfathomable amount to me and it’s like . Actually concerning 🔥🔥

ANYWAYS it’s giving Kate martin’s controversially hidden girlfriend that goes lowk public at the wnba draft like SHUT UP

18+ AS FUCK

“babe, quit looking at me like that.”

if there’s one thing you know, above the fact that you were certain there was gonna be an unsuspected draft tonight, was that kate martin could be such a bitch in the morning.

not that this was new for you, in any sense— you’d been more than used to it since the dawn of your relationship, learning all the little things about her that made her tick. whether that was her favorite to least favorite foods, or teams, even her obsession with fucking hot sauce.

you knew she still slept with her childhood blankie, the one currently curled under her chin atop the hotel comforter because she’s ridiculous, and because nobody has ever and would ever disrespect her blankie game.

and above all, you knew how much she wasn’t a morning person.

“you’re so dramatic,” you snort, pushing yourself up onto your elbows with a tired, but mocking voice as she emits a slow groan, turning to shove her face into the pillow, her body curling away from yours in an act of indignance that only makes you laugh.

you were far too used to her acting like a baby, so the action only made you sit up on your knees, slinging a leg over her so you could straddle her sides, leaning down to pepper kisses against the side of her face as she lets out a string of groans that turn into halfhearted chuckles, until her hands are planted firmly against your thighs, bare due to the oversized IOWA shirt that she insisted on you wearing.

‘for good luck,’ you remembered her snickering, something you knew was really just ‘easy access’.

her voice is still hoarse from sleep, quiet and raspy and tinged with that midwestern accent that you’ll never give up on bullying her for, when she whispers, “dude, you’re so annoying.”

of course, she proves it by hoisting you off of her, onto the bed, simulating something like a WWE smackdown moment as she rolls over onto you, mumbling something that you really can’t decipher due to her face in your neck, your chest, basically every place she knows will pull that hysterical, annoyingly high pitched laugh out of you, that for some reason, she loves.

“can’t believe you made it here.” she murmurs quietly against your cheek, lips moving lazily against the skin before she lays a smacking kiss there, and it’s almost gross, how much saliva she uses, but you snicker anyway, hand coming up to stroke through her blonde strands.

in all honesty, you couldn’t really believe it either. it had been soemthing close to hell trying to get it all straightened out, from clothes to hotels, to transportation and getting from des moines to brooklyn, not to mention just how fucking exclusive it had been to even get a seat open with all the hype surrounding women’s college basketball, the posterity that the final four teams had brought to the sport— not to mention, the fact that you and kate weren’t public in the fucking slightest, so having to account for that definitely sucked.

of course, it was a huge accomplishment, one that would definitely go down in the history of sports in general, so of course it was a huge fucking honor that your girlfriend was apart of it—

but also, you just thought it was hot.

in fact, the thought makes you smirk to yourself, corners of your mouth curling upwards in a self righteous grin as you turned your head, bumping noses with her to whisper, “can’t wait to see you all dressed up, baby,” she snickers at that, and you kiss her lips once, twice, three times before continuing, “and, i can’t wait to see where you get drafted so i can buy myself a plane ticket.”

the subsequent groan you receive is expected, but it doesn’t deter you even slightly, “and to watch you play on a professional fucking team, like, kate, i’m basically wet thinking about it right now.”

that makes her laugh out loud, and it warms you just a bit to hear it.

it’s not like kate has been super confident about it recently, usually choosing to not speak or avoid talking about how bad she wants it— especially considering the night being mainly for caitlin, an old teammate of yours from school and one of kate’s best friends on the squad, and arguably, one of the best players in the league (next to kate, of course).

still, it didn’t change your focus, or the unyielding hope you had for the possibility of kate getting drafted— no matter how late in the draft it could be.

“babe, quit selling yourself short, okay? you’re a legend. it would be literally, fucking stupid to pass you up, okay?” she doesn’t respond at first, her eyes closed and lashes brushing her cheeks, before she flutters them open just a crack, blue peeking through as you offer her a grin, one that she only rolls her eyes to, but kisses you regardless. you knew how much she hated to talk about it, but it didn’t matter.

you knew you were right, anyway.

“mmmiloveyou.” it comes out in one smushed whisper against your mouth, before you nip at her bottom lip, hand sneaking under the sports bra she wore to bed to brush your thumb across her ribcage, “get off of me and get ready, okay?”

—

caitlin was top draft pick, which was heavily speculated and yet still unexpected to a degree as you stood from your seat with a cacophony of shouts and hollers from around you, pride swelling thick in your chest. you’d known the girl since you two had been in middle school— seeing the same tall little girl that had hated losing in an elementary school gym turn into such an infamous champion was something alike to a parent watching their kid go off to college or something, you’d swear it.

but, to say it was nothing short of nervewracking would somehow be an understatement, and as much as you felt the impending pressure with each name called, you could only imagine how kate must’ve felt.

it wasn’t hard to tell— the way her molars steadily worked the inside of her cheek, the way her tongue would dart out to wet her lips again and again. her hand, jittering too much to be held stationary within your own, drumming along your bare thigh beside your dress— ‘self soothing’, she’d explained in a whisper, a halfhearted, almost weakened smile on her face when you’d given her a lifted eyebrow at the hand placement considering the amount of cameras that surrounded you, but somehow, despite the rush of adrenaline, decided you didn’t care either.

thankfully, you both weren’t anywhere too accessible, but it still made you wonder whether kate had been bullshitting just how anxious she actually had been the whole time for her to need your touch so badly, and for an aching moment of tenderness as you glance at her, you want to kiss her, hard, rub the tension between her eyebrows, relax the trouble in her eyes.

still, gabbie and jada were good eyes too, considering anytime the camera would so much as even pan past you two, jada would hit you with a solid elbow, one to remind you that your poker face was shit, and perhaps you’d have to try just a little harder to pretend you weren’t totally, irrevocably in love with the woman beside you.

but slowly, it was all starting to click into place.

the cameras began panning to kate more and more, your own eyes flickering to the set and noticing how everytime you’d look, there’d be an official looking right past you, right at kate. a surge of excitement rose within you, one that had the words bubbling from your mouth in an urgent whisper,

“baby, i think—“

until an official, dressed in black with a wireless pair of headphones in each ear and a smile, touched kate’s shoulder.

“ms. martin, we’re gonna go ahead and have you and your party move down the aisle just a bit— there’s been a slight seating issue, if that’s okay with you guys?”

jada elbows you extra hard this time, and for some reason it solidifies that feeling you get, one that makes your heart leap as you all nod, getting to your feet without argument, only as kate turns to give you a look that’s supposed to be scolding, but fuck, you can see the glimmer of hope in it that makes your chest constrict, your eyes burn in pride.

“you’re giving me eyes, and for what?” she hums, the teeth against her cheek working overtime as you all settle into the new seats, kate at the end of the aisle, and a fluttery feeling in your chest, “no reason.” you say it almost smugly, as if you know something she doesn’t, and you don’t, but god, you can feel it.

the names fly off, left and right, number 16, and kate’s knee starts bouncing slightly, number 17 and your heart feels like it’s going way too fucking fast, number 18, and jada peers around you to glance at kate, and then…

las vegas, aces— kate martin.

if watching caitlin win had felt like a parent watching their child, this must’ve been adjacent to winning the fucking lottery.

you’re on your feet in mere seconds, the tears that had built finally dripping down your cheeks, a fact you’d only come to find embarrassing once you realize how visible they are on the playback, but fuck it, your girl was going pro.

she wastes no time in wrapping you up, her face ducking into your shoulder as your arms twine around her middle, thinking subconsciously of how you know you shouldn’t risk it, but kate doesn’t seem to mind, only releasing you with a single arm to embrace jada, and then gabbie, before she’s back to you.

of course, it doesn’t occur to you in the moment, that it’s a hard launch— no, it doesn’t really sink in until she kisses you hard against the temple before she’s breezing down the aisle, the subsequent eruption in applause leaving you starstruck, in silent awe.

after that, it’s somewhat of a blur— she takes her picture and accepts her jersey, the newscasters going off on some spiel about your girlfriends work ethic, her attitude, her endurance, everything you already fucking knew, had known for so long, that she’d finally have a chance to prove.

the moment she’s back beside you, it also doesn’t register to you that she must’ve been just as accepting about the reveal, because it’s only a second that she’s in her seat before she plants a soft kiss to your mouth, the dark lipstick you’d been steadily biting off in anxiety sticking to hers and she’s grinning, bigger than she had all day, and for a moment, you think you might actually collapse because god,

you love her. so fucking much.

“told you so,” you make out between the tears, smiling through the tightness in your voice that makes you sound warbled, whimpering even as she just laughs at you, her thumb careful to wipe beneath your eyes, “guess you did.”

of course, it’s only customary that after such a good night, everyone must get fucked up— so, that’s exactly what happens.

you get to gush to caitlin— hugging her tight around the neck and congratulating her a million times, to which she reciprocates when it comes to you and kate, garnering a blush on your already alcohol flushed cheeks, rolling your eyes as you punch her arm.

“whatever, fever.”

“whatever, ‘ace’.”

you pretend you don’t notice the quotations she puts around it, and give her a friendly middle finger instead— if kate was an ace, that meant you basically were too, at least by proxy.

“hey money,” you call to kate affectionately, seeing only the back of her head as she talks to gabbie, your arms sliding around her waist to hold her tight from behind.

“my love,” she greets with a smile, looking over her shoulder to pucker her lips at you, expecting a kiss that you so easily return. it feels fucking terrifying, in all honesty, to be so open, but you can’t find it within you to care enough to give it up— not when she’s this happy.

“dude, you totally knew, didn’t you? there’s no way you would’ve started crying like that unless you knew.” she’s drunk, chattering at a volume level beyond what’s needed considering you were right behind her, hand sneaking beneath her blazer, but you can’t help the way you shrug, “i’m always right, huh?”

later that night, she shows you just how right you are.

it’s past a decent hour to still be tugging off clothes from the night prior— the clock read four in the morning, but the windows spoke of the twinkling lights that surrounded, the city not quite awake, but never asleep.

“you’re a pro,” you hum against her mouth as you tug off her blazer, hands making quick work of the belt that kept you from exploring, smirking at the look she gives you, daring and all too fucking sexy, “it’s so hot to think about.”

“yeah?” her fingers hook beneath the straps of the dress until she’s dragging them down your shoulders, “you want me to show you how professionals do it?”

the next thing you know she’s between your legs, nothing but a white top and her slacks on, unbuttoned, as she hikes a leg over her shoulder, kisses along the inside of your thigh with an intensity only comparable to how she is after a really good game.

“fuck—!” it leaves your mouth in a sound that’s almost unrecognizable, the realization that you’d been pleasantly and uncomfortably horny ever since the draft had ended making itself known considering just how much kate had been unrelenting during press— hands on your hips or on the inside of your thigh, toying with the hair on the back of your neck or grasping the inside of your elbow to lead you along.

she knew it drove you crazy, you knew she’d make it up to you later.

her mouth makes easy work on you, tongue long and flat as she laps against your cunt, rough in all the ways that she knew you could handle— thumbs pressing fingerprint bruises into your skin, breath hot and heavy against your clit, hips moving on their own accord as you gasp out a string of incoherent whimpers. “shit, baby- just… just like that.”

it wasn’t like kate had ever failed at getting you off, but tonight, she performed as if it was her last game, greedy almost as she drinks you in, making sure to not leave one bit of you unchecked. her tongue is almost sinful in the way it makes your voice careen, high and whining, your hand finding a permanent tangle into her already mussed hair.

but she’s cocky tonight, presumptuous right before you orgasm as she raises her head to kiss your thigh, biting the skin before she’s climbing onto the bed beside you, too tall to be graceful, but you’re too fucking horny to even spare her the laughs you usually give.

“up, c’mere.” she’s breathless still, but she doesn’t let you rest for even a second, leaning across you to curl her fingers around your thigh to tug you up from your laying position, rousing you from the hazy, almost delirious state of mind as you push yourself up, letting out a shaking breath when she’s sliding your leg over her chest, hands grazing up the back of your thighs until she’s pulling you, right over over her mouth.

“kate, wha- you’re so— fuck.”

any semblance of words or sense seem to leave you in one second, as she flattens her tongue against the wetness that’s collected, the friction almost unbearable when her head tilted upwards, nose brushing hard against your clit in a way that pulls a cry from your lips. she’s unfaltering, diligent, unabashed in the way she’s moving your hips, the way she pairs each grind against her nose with a curl of her tongue, and really, it’s over before it fucking starts.

her mouth is glossy, damp when she’s done, and she smiles and it’s arrogant as she’s sliding you back down to sit you against her hips, the mere control she had of your body making you bright red as you pant pathetically, reduced to fucking nothing by her mouth.

it makes you throw your head back with a whimpering sigh, “don’t fucking look at me like that.” you complain, legs still open, thighs still trembling as she races her hands along them, “tired already?”

funnily enough, you were far from fucking tired.

“actually… was thinking about showing you some celebrity treatment?” you muse softly, as she peels off her own top, eyebrows raising, her thumb swiping along the edge of her lip before she’s placing it on the bottom of yours, pressing until it dips into your mouth, the heady taste of what you knew was yourself finding a place on your tongue.

she smirks, tongue poking between her teeth as your stomach fucking turns almost, arousal prickling unforgivingly at you once again.

“ooh,” she muses under her breath, eyes laser focused on the thumb she’d placed between your lips, voice coming out in a whisper, “i like the sound of that.”

she’s smirking though, because sex between you two have never been anything completely serious— that’s just not how kate operates, “ace money martin’s got a ring to it, huh?”

“shut up.”

“make me.”

so, you do.

#kate martin x reader #kate martin smut #kate martin #writing asf #be gentle i lowk like this one…..

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artinvain · 7 months ago

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Toxic bff Abby that denies she is in love with you but is extremely possessive over you and basically treats you like her gf, but still fucks other girls imagining you; getting jealous seeing ANYONE else come near you. NEED IT PLS

toxic!bff!abby x reader

Abby’s so insecure and she lets it rule everything she does. she can't seem to get it right -- more plot and angst than i intended. lesbian smut under the cut - men and minors dni

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧

it happens every time. abby gets drunk when you have a fight and does something stupid to forget about you. she could see you dancing up against her from the rival basketball team. and although abby would usually rip you from their arms and dance with you herself — feel your ass grind up against her crotch, let you control where her hands went as you dance — she can’t do that tonight.

abby had seen you at the bar for the pre-party, the girl you’re with buying you drinks, resting her hand on your thigh, inching ever so close to your face and leaning in for a kiss, and abby seethed with every brush of your lips. finally seeing red when you get down from your bar stool to stand between her legs.

abby could see the girl you were with now and it coloured her vision crimson. ellie fucking williams. of all people you could flirt with. abby had to think you were being vindictive — trying to get back at her for when she ditched you to get with tammy instead of take you to an art gallery like she’d promised for weeks.

It wasn’t completely her fault although abby could come up with a million excuses to absolve herself but the prevailing one would always be that she was a fucking coward. it felt too much like a date. a real date that she wants to take you on — not as her friend. but abby couldn't stand the thought of you rejecting her.

she could see it so vividly in her head -- you turning away from her, your face contorted in distaste "but abby, we're just friends." you would say "i could never see you like that." and abby would understand. because you were too good for her -- too smart, funny, kind, you gave her too many chances because your heart is so big. abby didn't deserve someone who could colour the world and scrub out the black and white monotony of every day life.

abby didn't realise she was gripping your arm so tight it could be bruising, she'd been glowering down at ellie, seething and her mouth practically foamed with her hard ragged breaths. "the fuck is wrong with you anderson?" ellie snarls, abby twists her mouth and "you, are all over my best friend,"

"and you're best friend -- who is right here -- is fine with it," you snatch your arm from abby's grip. you couldn't even fight her at this point. she was colder to you recently, she sold you excuses for her distance, came to your apartment still dewy and smelling like someone else. she'd been rubbing it in your face that she wanted nothing to do with you. you ignored that she didn't reply when you'd casually told her you loved her after she dropped you off at home last week. but you couldn't keep walking into apartment as other women walked out past you, a drunken smile plastered on their faces. she did this every few weeks and you were sick of it, but this time was worse than usual.

"go hang out with tammy or whoever," you back into ellie rubbing your arm and abby swallowed, her eyes catching yours -- hollow as they'd never been when looking at her. but just last week you had told her you loved her. could that change so quickly? had she gone too far? abby's fists clenched, bouncing on her weak knees.

"I- we need to talk," abby says without thinking and she immediately wanted to punch herself.

'talk about what?' abby thought to herself, she could never tell you that she loved you back, that more than that she worshipped you. she could neve tell you that every time she looked at you -- she fought not to let her face heat up. abby couldn't tell you that her chest puffed up with pride that she could call you -- something so precious hers. her best friend. you are the only person she ever wanted to be around really.

"I'm leaving," you say with a deep breath as ellie puts a few paper bills on the bar counter, one in the tip jar and slides her hand onto the small of your back. "get yourself together. i'll see you later maybe."

now abby had to watch you dance with ellie, smiling with your arms draped over should shoulders while ellie whispered in your ear. she downed her shot and then decided not to beat ellie up because she didn't want to be benched the entire season. so, instead she put her jacket on and approached you with her head hanging low.

your movements halt as abby stands near the both of you, "can we talk?" abby asks, her watery blue eyes slowly rising to meet yours. you sigh and turn to kiss ellie's cheek goodnight before leading abby out of the house and down the street.

"I'm really sorry," abby says as you walk slow into the crisp autumn evening.

"for what abby?"

"everything," she shrugs and tries a chuckle but coughs awkwardly when you glare at her. "so, you don't have anyone to take home tonight?" you question and abby sighs, running her hands over her face. "come on, don't be like that," abby says and stops in front of her truck opening the passenger door for you.

"I'm not getting in unless you tell me what you're sorry for."

abby groans, clenching her jaw and resting her hands against her bumper, leaning on it and ducking her head.

"I'm sorry I've been such a sloppy asshole this week. I'm sorry i tried to make you jealous and I'm sorry that I didn't reply when you said it. because I should have."

you know what abby is talking about but god, she can't even say it. it fucking wrecks you because she doesn't value you enough to even tell you what you mean to her, if you mean anything at all. you start to walk past her, "hey wait, oh my god -- I love you!"

abby yells, her mouth parts but no other words come to her. she swallows thickly when you turn around, the tears on your face matching hers.

"I'm sorry I'm a fucking idiot and I didn't tell you sooner but i don't love you like a friend. I am in love with you, okay? and - and I'm a shitty person and I don't wanna mess us up,"

abby can't stand your silence but when she looks up, there you are. standing so close to her she can feel your warm breath on her cheeks.

"do you promise to at least give us a chance?"

abby, cups the back of your neck and presses a soft kiss to your mouth as her answer, pulls your body flush to her so she can lean over you and lick into your mouth. moan as you suck on her tongue.

"m'sorry, so sorry sweetheart," abby whispers in between kisses as she feels your tears on her cheeks, "let me make it up to you."

abby drives you not far down the road to her place, her hand on your all the time, pressing kisses to your knuckles until she shuts the door behind you and kisses you again, this time her hands going down to your ass, gripping and squeezing, her mouth beginning to pepper kisses up and down your neck.

you whine when abby backs you into the hallway of her loft, behind the kitchen wall ands falls on top of you on her bed. "i swear to god, everything will be different," abby moans, as you grip her hand and bring it to your breast, where she takes the liberty to start pressing kisses to your chest, removing your clothes feverishly. you whine as she pulls away from you, catching her breath.

"do you not?" you ask shakily and abby cups your cheek.

"i do, i do. i just wanted it to be different. I didn't want to be fighting with you." abby whimpers when you grip her and pull her close so she's laying on top of you. "then, show me it'll be different."

abby takes her time lathering you chest when she removes your bra, kissing your tits and moaning as she sucks your nipples into her mouth, her hips starting to falter against you thigh. no matter how many women she'd been with. she never could get off. she didn't feel much of anything unless she thought of you, played your three words over and over again in her mind. but now, now she had the real thing and she's too desperate stop herself.

she flicks her fingers over your wet nipples, "so fucking pretty," she whines against you, massaging your tits and sucking marks between your chest as she pulls them close to her chest, moaning and grinding down on your hips going again to suck and swap nipples to wet and play with while your hips started to buck against hers.

"shit fuck, m'gonna cum, fuck i'm so sorry," she's utterly embarrassed, hides her face in your neck and she whines loudly, her fingers still playing with your nipples as she cums. you gasp and chuckle, unbelievably wetter at watching her cum just from sucking on your tits.

"i'm so fucking sorry-" "for what? for feeling good?" you mumble and press a kiss to her mouth, guiding her hand between the two of you so she can feel how wet she's making you, "always been a mess f'me," she groans, her fingers starting to circle your clit, hearing you moan she ducks her head into your neck again to kiss and mark you.

"i love you," abby moans as her fingers dig into your panties and start to slide into you, your gummy, wet walls inviting her in. "christ, you're so wet," she moans and she kisses down your torso and removes your shorts and panties, her mouth latching to your clit and she starts moaning, licking and twist her head so she's making circles on your clit while her fingers curl and fuck into you.

"fuck, abby! yes, yes please more," you yelp, your legs falling open and abby pulls them over her shoulders licking the wetness around her fingers in your cunt and groaning as she does so at your taste, another finger twisting into your sweet pussy she can't help but grin against you, licking and lapping at your clit, as you cum, her thumb coming to circle it instead.

"you look so pretty all fucked out f'me," she moans, pressing a hand down on your belly and fucking her fingers deeper, moaning at the way your mouth falls open, and your legs start to shake, "i love you, i fucking love you baby," she whines and you're spurting against her hand, licking up over your clit and sucking it, your taste filling her mouth.

"swear i'm gonna be better, i promise," abby says as she gently caresses you, cupping your cheek and rubbing her hands over your body. abby silently presses a sticky kiss to your temple and disappears as you catch your breath.

"haven't used it with anyone else," abby assures you when you look at her strap on quizzical and yet biting your lip as she clambers over you. "you're everything to me, i'm so sorry for everything," abby says as she lines herself up with you, her strap already covered in lube. you nod when abby hovers over you and she sighs when she finally sinks into you, your eyes crossing at the way it curls perfectly into your gspot, the ridged cock stimulating every part of your pussy.

"was saving this for you- fuck," she whimpers as the strap starts to vibrate against her and you whine loudly as it tremors inside you. "wanted to feel this good with you and you only" she moans gasping into your mouth as you press her close when abby starts to fucking into you.

you're both so overstimulated it doesn't take much of her deep, wet thrusts until you're crying against her shoulder, biting into it as you both cum again. you push abby out at the pain of the overstimulation and she rips the strap off of her in the same manner, turning it off.

after abby rocks you both to sleep, she's woken by her phone ringing, at reading the caller ID she moves into her bathroom, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and whispering into the phone.

"i fucking told you not to call," abby whispers, turning over to look at your sleeping form under her sheets.

"no, tammy -- enough. I'm done fucking around," she groans and near hangs up until tammy whispers something over the line, something you can't quite make out, all you can hear is.

"jesus christ, okay, I'll be over soon."

"where are you going?" you ask as abby gets dressed, "tammy-" "are you fucking serious?" you chuckle in disbelief pulling your clothes on in a hurry.

"no, you don't understand -- wait!" abby calls as you pick your jacket up from off the floor and shuffle your shoes on.

"I'm done waiting for you abby. you couldn't even last a day."

"please, stay -- i just, you don't understand," abby pleads, holding onto your forearm.

"then explain,"

abby fumbles for something, anything. you weren't supposed to hear anything, you were supposed to stay asleep. abby just needed to be gone a few hours, she just needed to take care of things with tammy one last time and then she was yours. she just wanted to make sure.

"so, you're not sure you love me?" you roll your eyes as abby rubs her face in her hands.

"if i stay, abby, what does that say about me?" you sniffle and snatch your arm from her grip for the last time today.

"i hope you get what you're looking for anderson," you nod and pull your phone out of your pocket, texting ellie to pick you up if she was still awake.

ellie: be there in 2 mins.

"see you around," you purse your lips and close the door behind you, your ears rushing with blood so loudly you can't hear abby breaking into sobs behind the door.

tags: @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz

#lesbian #lesbian smut #abby tlou smut #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #nsft lesbian #abby tlou x reader smut #tlou smut #tlou x reader smut #abby anderson x reader smut

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mrkis · 2 years ago

Text

this is (not) easy. (m.l)

PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: fwb, f2l, crack humour, fluff, smut, angst WORD COUNT: 13.2k

SYNOPSIS: getting into a friends with benefits situation with your all time best friend was so (not) easy

CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, sofa sex, doggy, creampies, big dick mark as always (he gets cocky bc his cock is big), a lot of crack humour, kissing, make-outs, sorta slow burn, heavily implied jaemin x reader moments, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed

[AN]: a thank you gift for being patient with me while i take some time off, and also a thank you gift for the follower milestone. you guys are insane.. i love you.

“Wait, you what?” You screech incredulously, not caring about the loudness of your tone as you abruptly straighten up in your seat, the legs squeaking against the wooden flooring of the library. Other students with their heads shoved in books and laptop screens peek over to shush you angrily, one warning you about the volume of your voice but you pay them no attention as you’re staring wide eyed at Mark who sits across from you sheepishly.

Mark Lee—one of the hot throbs living on campus, the smartest and kindest guy in class, and the biggest marvel freak has been your bestest friend for the past few years, having met in the middle of a school’s basketball court where fourteen-year-old Mark had tried to shoot some hoops to impress his newfound friends, only for the ball to come flying straight at your face and leaving you with a swollen eyeball and a busted up nose.

Mark was unbelievably apologetic, buying jellies and ripping up flowers from potted plants to give to you, begging for your forgiveness over and over again until you socked him in the face, giving him a hefty nosebleed and a bruised cheek. A toothy grin was spread across your cheeks as you had taken the gifts out of his hands, a happy ‘now we’re even!’ leaving your lips as you had ripped open the packet, offering a jelly, offering your friendship.

The two of you became inseparable and if someone saw one of you, they knew that the other would be trailing along behind them. You were two peas in a pod, the dynamic duo. You were so joined at the hip that when you both enrolled for college, you tried signing up for a dorm on campus, wanting to be roommates.

It didn’t happen much to both of your dismay. Mark ended up rooming with one of his friends, Jaemin, while you got stuck with some girl you didn’t even know but had become acquainted with over a short period of time.

Still, you and Mark never strayed far from each other even with your roommates lingering around. Mark slept over at your place from time to time and vice versa, you’re certain that he even has a drawer for himself in your dresser filled with spare shirts, sweatpants and underwear. A lot of your mutual friends found it suspicious how you two could be so close with nothing going on, complaining how neither of you could be just friends even though it was the truth. You are just friends, you’re best friends.

“I’m just saying you’re complaining about not hooking up with someone for a few days while I haven’t slept with someone for, like, a month” Mark repeats to you with flushed cheeks, adjusting the black cap on his head with one hand while other skilfully flips a pen around his fingers, bottom lip jutting out. “Times are hard, dude. I got assignments coming out of my ass—”

“There’s no way you haven’t hooked up with someone recently” You hiss between teeth, refusing to believe a word that comes out of his mouth when he’s talking about such nonsense. A student from the table next to yours turns around in their seat in annoyance to look at you, pressing their finger aggressively against their lips to tell you to quiet down and you scoff, throwing them the middle finger with your own irritancy and annoyance.

“Can you not?” Mark scolds you as he wraps his hand around your own, squeezing in warning as he pushes it back down to the table and sends the student an apologetic smile, and as always, it works like a charm as they shyly smile back and return back to their book. It makes you scoff again and Mark is quick to look at you, “I’m telling you the truth, you know”

“Bullshit” You murmur, sending him a glare. “That girl from my study group was over at your dorm last weekend—I saw her snapchat stories”

“Dude, we’re in the same study group. She came over for some of my notes and stayed longer because Jaemin offered her an ounce of his ‘premium weed’” Mark explains, putting emphasis around the word ‘premium weed’ which has you snorting, knowing that there was nothing premium about Jaemin’s stash. “She eventually ended up sleeping over and fucking Jeno anyways”

Your face contorts into a look of confusion at that, “What? Jeno isn’t even your roommate?”

“I know,” Mark grimaces. “Jaemin’s sheets are still in the dryer”

“Oh…” You pause, humming as the realisation finally hits you. “So that’s why Jaemin didn’t have any sheets on his bed when I came over on Monday”

“Yea—wait, you came over Monday?” Mark’s head snaps towards you, eyes narrowing in on you as he jabs his pen in your direction. “Did you fuck in my bed?!

“No, of course not” You scoff, deeply offended by his accusation and Mark lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing his shoulders as he leans back into his chair. “We actually fucked on the sofa—”

“Are you fucking kidding m—”

“That’s besides the point!!” You cut him off before he can grill into you, silencing him as you raise your hand in front of his face as he tries to retaliate again. “You haven’t fucked anyone in a month, Mark. That’s… that’s blasphemy!!”

Mark deadpans, “I’m pretty sure that’s not blasphemy”

“Whatever, you know what I mean” You discard it, shoving your books and pens as far away from you as you possibly could, no longer interested in studying the endless amount of words on that page now that you’ve discovered your best friend hasn’t gotten laid in so long. You sit comfortably in your chair as you fully face him, tucking your legs beneath you. “I can’t believe you fucked someone in a month…”

“You’re telling me” Mark huffs, deciding to push away his studies too for the time being as he rubs at his face in frustration, groaning beneath his palms. You console him with a frown, rubbing his shoulder in pity and Mark drops his hands to his lap, looking over at you with a glare. “I can’t believe you didn’t believe me, dude… why would I lie about something like that?!”

“I don’t know—you fuck more than I do, of course I’m not gonna believe a word you say when you tell me something like that!!” You’re quick to defend yourself, both you and Mark knowing you’re speaking the truth.

Mark does fuck more than you. His boyish charm and adorable face doesn’t hide the fact that his body count is currently sitting in its twenties and that his online bank statements show how many packs of condoms he’s buying weekly, and maybe a few plan B’s lingering there somewhere for extra precaution. He was always on the safe side which didn’t surprise you, he was nowhere ready to be extremely stupid and possibly impregnate someone, especially a stranger.

“Dude… you didn’t have to say it out loud like that…” Mark mutters under his breath, cheeks dusting a slight pink as another student turns around in their seat to glare at the pair of you and comically widens her eyes as she meets Mark’s, shyly tucking her hair behind her ears with a kind smile that Mark reciprocates. You scoff at her reaction and lean back in your seat just as Mark’s attention is brought back to you. “Are we done with this conversation? I’d like to change the topic from my non-existent sex life to something more appealing”

“Fine… you still going to Johnny’s later?”

“Nah, he’s got some important family thing to go to so we’re hanging another time” Mark sighs softly, taking the cap off of his head to run his fingers through his hair before adjusting it back on. “You cool if I came over with you?”

“Sure” You grin, already shoving your books into your tote bag, eager to leave the library as soon as you possibly can. Mark snorts in amusement but follows closely behind as he shoves his own belongings into his backpack and rests the strap on his shoulder. You turn your head to see the girl still staring over at Mark and you smirk, slamming one hand on the desk in front of her to get her attention before jabbing your thumb in Mark’s direction. “If you want his number, I can give it to you. He’s been stuck in a dry spell recently so—”

Mark’s fingers curl around your elbow, dragging you away from the traumatised girl with a huff, “Move”

“I’ve been thinking about something…” You begin after a few hefty hours of studying and bingeing out on food, dropping your chopsticks in the empty ramen cup and pushing it to the side. Mark sits beside you on the sofa, his own ramen cup in hand as he stares at his laptop screen, taking in the words that need to be remembered for his class.

Mark gives you a pointed look as he slurps his ramen, “That doesn’t sound good”

“Wow, hilarious” You deadpan with a roll of your eyes as he chuckles under his breath, turning his head back to the laptop screen. “Anyway—and hear me out before you say some dumbass shit—I’ve been thinking about something that relates to that little problem we both have, and I may have just thought of a way to fix it”

“Why are you still hung up on this?” Mark whines between mouthfuls. “I don’t want to be reminded that I’m not having sex, dude—"

“Ah!” You hold up your hand to shush him and he goes cross eyed to stare at your palm. “I said hear me out”

“Okay”

“Great! Okay, so, me and you are the best of friends, right? Like, we always help each other out and—”

“Where is this going?”

“Hear. Me. Out” You warn once more and Mark sighs, nodding his head to let you continue. “We always help each other out, right? And there’s no awkwardness between us at all which makes us close. Do you remember that time we had to make-out in front of Sejun so he would stop awkwardly hitting on me? And that time I pretended to be your girlfriend so Rina would get the hint that you didn’t want to fuck her anymore?”

“That didn’t exactly work out because we slept with them a few days after it happened—”

“That’s not the point” You say as you frustratingly rub at your temples. “The point is that we always help each other out, no matter what the situation is because we’re best friends. So, as best friends, I think we should help each other out with our little situation”

“And how can we help each other out”

“By fucking each other” The second those words leave your lips, Mark chokes on his ramen, fist banging against his chest as he coughs, eyes watery and face red and it has you cackling, wishing you had your phone nearby to take a picture. Mark takes deep breaths as he finally consumes air, reaching down to grab his bottle of water that rests beside the leg of the sofa, gulping it down almost immediately. “You’re so dramatic”

“And you’re crazy!!” Mark shoots back, water droplets falling from his chin as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Do you realise what you just said?”

You grin, “Perfectly!”

“We’re not fucking each other, it’ll be too weird” You instantly find offense to that, your jaw dropping and Mark rolls his eyes. “We’re best friends. Best friends don’t do that type of shit—Stop looking at me like that!”

You huff, turning your head away from him childishly, “I’m just trying to help us out. I don’t think it’ll be weird, people have done weirder”

“Do you know how many friendships have been ruined because they fucked?” Mark questions you and you take a moment to ponder, wincing as you can easily name a few from the top of your head. “Exactly. As much as I find you attractive, I’m not going to ruin our friendship. We’ve been best friends for too long”

Your head slowly whirls back to Mark who’s already staring at you and you smile, flirtily batting your eyelashes at him, “You think I’m attractive?”

“You’re unbelievable, jesus fucking chri—” Mark cuts himself off, rubbing his forehead as he exhales deeply due to his frustration. You beam at the thought of getting under his skin, but you roll your eyes and reach over to press your foot into his side to bring his attention back to you.

Mark looks over at you with a deadpan expression and you grin softly, tilting your head to the side as you admire the view. You’ve always found Mark attractive even if it was in a friendly way, and you’d be lying if you said that sleeping with him has never crossed your mind, but that’s because you’re nosy and want to see what all the fuss is about when you continuously hear the girls gush about what he’s like in bed.

Some say he’s pretty giving, tending to their needs in all ways possible while others say he comes across as needy and desperate, begging for his cock to be sucked. It piques your interest immensely… Maybe it was wrong of you to think that way about someone you know so well, but you’re human after all, sometimes you can’t help the way you think.

“Look…” You speak first. “What I said was just a suggestion, okay? If you don’t want to do it then that’s fine—”

“How do you know that it won’t ruin our friendship?” Mark cuts you off and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the question. “We’ve been friends for, like, nine years or something, dude… I don’t know about you but I don’t want to throw that all away because we messed up and decided to fuck each other just because we’re horny”

“We’re not going to get into anything serious” You tell him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure, we’re probably going to be in some type of friends with benefits situation but we’re not going to include any of that ‘official’ or ‘exclusive’ bullshit. We just fuck each other for a release when we can’t find it anywhere else, it’s as simple as that. No complications”

“So…” Mark purses his lips in deep thought. “We can still fuck other people?”

You scoff, “Of course. You think I’d drop Jaemin for you that easily?”

“Fuck you”

Your lips curl into a smirk, “I’m hoping you would”

Mark stares at you before chuckling, shaking his head as his tongue pokes at his cheek. The little act spurs you on but you remain seating, wanting Mark to make the first move if he was game in fucking you to help relieve the stress you’re both feeling, maybe Mark more than you considering you fucked Jaemin a few days ago, but you were desperate to be filled again.

You watch Mark ponder for a moment, his bottom lip jutting down deep in thought, brows pulling together as he thinks about the pros and cons. His hands come up to pull the cap off of his head, his hair messily falling in front of his eyes and your thighs press together at the thought of seeing it between your legs with your fingers tangled through the locks. You snort at how deluded you sound.

“What time does your roommate come back tonight?” Mark questions you, his low voice bringing you out of your thoughts and your body buzzes with excitement, reaching over to snag your phone off of the coffee table to check the time and you grin wildly when you realise she won’t be home for another three hours. You inform him immediately and he nods, “Cool. Good to know”

“So?” You press, chucking your phone back onto the coffee table as you look at him expectedly. “What’s it going to be?”

“No titles—”

“None at all”

“We can still fuck whoever we want—”

“Even the neighbours”

“And most importantly…” Mark pauses with a deep sigh, leaning closer to you and holding up his hand with his pinky finger outstretched. “We’re still best friends”

“It’ll be like nothing ever changed” You say softly with a smile, raising your own hand to curl your pinky finger around his own, squeezing tightly. It’s silent between you both for a while and you can clearly see the cogs turning inside Mark’s head as he thinks about his next move, yet you’re the one that takes the initiative.

You rip your hand away from his to throw your arms around his shoulders, dragging him towards you to plant your lips on his in a heated kiss. You’re surprised at how fast Mark responds as his palms come up to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper as his tongue moulds with yours.

The few drunken kisses you’ve shared with Mark to help each other out of situations is nothing like the kiss you’re experiencing now and it catches you extremely off guard. You almost expected him to allow you to take control of the situation and lead him through, but with the way Mark’s pushing you down to the sofa and crawling in between your open legs with his lips still attached to yours, you’re stumped.

“Wait” You stop him, pressing your hand against his shoulder to push him back and Mark moves away with puckered lips, his fingers hovering above the waistband of your shorts which causes you to snort, “Why are we doing this on the sofa when there’s a perfectly good bed in my room?”

Mark glares down at you, “That didn’t stop you and Jaemin fucking on my sofa”

“Actually, there was no sheets on Jaemin’s bed, so—”

“Think of this as payback” Mark smiles at you sweetly and you snarl, knocking your knee against his side with force and he laughs through clenched teeth, “Besides, you’ve probably fucked a lot of people on this sofa…. Do you really care?”

“Are you implying that I’m a slut”

“Yeah”

“God, that’s so hot of you”

Mark snorts out a laugh and leans down to reconnect your lips as his hands pull your shorts and underwear down your legs, carelessly throwing them somewhere to the side and you hiss at the cold air that hits, yearning for warmth.

Mark’s lips trail down your throat and to the collar of your shirt, heading south to where your thighs shake in anticipation, watching as he shifts down to lay between your legs, hands pushing against your knees to spread you apart further.

Your hand reaches down to pull the cap off of his head, revealing his messy hair beneath and you toss it over the sofa, caring so little about where it lands as you thread your fingers through his locks, trying to tug him closer but he barely budges, staring up at you with his brows laced together.

“Hurry” You whine.

“Are you always this impatient?”

“Of course” You look at him like he’s stupid. “We’re both doing this for a reason and it’s to cum, not to take our sweet little time and—Oh fuck!”

“You talk too much” He drags his tongue through your folds, the pink muscle swirling around your clit and your body jerks, a gasp flying past your lips as you dig your fingers further into his hair, the feeling of his tongue wiggling between your folds and licking upwards to flick over your clit before his fingers tease at your entrance.

Your body goes slack against the sofa cushions as he eases his two digits inside the warmth of your walls, curling his fingers upwards as his lips wrap around your sensitive bud and you whine, tugging on his hair a little harder which causes him to groan, the vibrations causing goosebumps to rise to your skin.

You’re in shock at how well Mark uses his tongue and fingers against you. You’ve heard stories from your girl friends and Mark himself, but you didn’t realise he was this good and it completely caught you off track, unable to control the noises that rip from your chest when he begins to pump his fingers in and out of your pussy while his tongue continues to work wonders on your clit.

“Mark” You say his name with a moan, thighs twitching and closing in around his head and you feel him smile against your cunt, causing you to squeeze around his head in warning, “Stop it”

“You gonna cum already?” He asks as he lifts his head, mouth glistening with your arousal and his fingers hitting the spot that has your toes curling and back arching against the cushions. “You can cum, if you want. Let it go”

“You’re so cocky” You chuckle, but your amusement slips away and is overcome by pleasure as he pumps his fingers a few more times, the tightening band in your stomach snapping as you cum all over his hand, gasping through high pitched whines and trying to control the convulsing movement of your body.

“That’s it” Mark hums, pressing a quick kiss to your clit. “There you go…”

“Oh my god” You choke out, your hand falling limp on his shoulder as it drops from his hair, your fingers twitching over the material. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Me eating you out” He answers simply with smugness in his tone, popping his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean and your mouth drops in shock at the action. “You good?”

“Yeah, good” You nod dumbly, completely astonished at how nonchalant Mark is, watching as he tugs his jeans and boxers down his legs awkwardly when he sits up, your eyes immediately zoning in on his cock that slaps against his stomach once freed from its confinements.

Truthfully, you’ve seen Mark naked as he’s so comfortable stripping in front of you without any thought. But, you’ve never seen Mark hard and the sight alone is enough to have your mouth watering in anticipation. Your best friend is huge.

“Okay” Mark speaks to himself, shuffling forwards on his knees and hooking his hands under the back of yours to pull you closer, his thumbs caressing your skin. “You ready? You know there’s no turning back from this, right?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be” You grin, wiggling against him excitedly. “Give me what you got, baby!”

“Don’t call me that, dude” Mark tuts, shaking his head as he slowly slides his cock into you. Your eyes slowly start to widen at the stretch, the burn obvious in your thighs and your hand flies down to his in hopes to slow down his movements despite him going as slow as he possibly could.

You breathe steadily through your nose, lips pressed together tightly as you wince at the uncomfortable ache that spreads, your pussy squeezing down on him as if you were trying to prevent him from entering any further.

“Ow” You mutter beneath your breath, twisting your hips to try and get comfortable and relax but you wince at the movement you make, causing Mark to raise his head from where you’re connected to look into your eyes, his own pooling with concern.

“You alright?”

“Mhm” You hum with a curt nod. “Nothing of that significant size has been up there before, you know? I’m just… feeling uncomfortable, that’s all”

His lips curl into a grin, “You calling my dick big?”

You give him a hardened glare, “Not as big as your fucking head”

Mark laughs loudly, his hand laying flat across your lower tummy as he adjusts himself in between your legs, head ducking down to watch himself carefully push into you once more but the second your legs tense up, he sighs apologetically and strokes your tummy as he slides out of you and you whine at the feeling of emptiness, looking at him with a pout.

“Hold on…” He tells you softly, gently grabbing your waist to help flip you over on all fours, his hands sliding around your back and pressing down slightly, arching it to hold you in place as you feel his cock prod at your entrance. “This should feel better. But tell me if it still hurts, okay? I don’t want to hurt you anymore”

“Just—” You grit your teeth together. “Just fuck me, Mark”

“Okay” Mark whispers as he eases himself into you again at a slow pace and you gasp, your fingers gripping the arm of the sofa, your head dropping to rest on the cushions as you try to control your breathing. The new position was definitely better than the last, but you can still feel him stretch you out to fit you around his cock. “Is my dick really that big?”

“Are you asking because you’re concerned or because you want me to boost your ego?”

Mark smiles, “Maybe both”

You don’t even get a chance to retaliate as Mark begins to fill you up completely, his hips pressing against your ass and you whine at how full you feel, unable to think properly as he pulls his cock out, leaving the tip nestled in your cunt before thrusting back in.

He curses loudly behind you, fingers digging into your hips as he rocks his hips into you, his powerful thrusts sending your body jerking forwards. You squeeze around his cock and he moans, his pace speeding up and you can’t help but fuck yourself back onto him, whining and panting at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy.

The sound of skin slapping against skin is enough to have your eyes rolling back, the lewd sounds driving you even closer to the edge along with his rapid thrusts and continuous cursing. You’re positive you can hear him mumble about how ‘fucking tight your pussy’ is. You would’ve never guessed he was into such dirty talk, Mark continues to amaze you.

Your pussy swallows around his length when you feel his hand sneak beneath your body to reach between your fingers, the pads of his fingers rubbing diligent circles on your clit and you mewl, your own hand coming down to latch around his wrist.

“Sh...shit” You slur, drool seeping past the corner of your lips. “So good—Fuck, don’t stop—s’good”

“I’m not gonna stop” You hear Mark whisper and you could feel the tears build up in your eyes as Mark leans over your body, holding himself up with one hand on the arm of the sofa, his other playing with your clit as he quickens his thrusts, his cock hitting deeper than before that it has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your body tenses up as his cock ploughs into your cunt, repeatedly hitting that spot over and over before your second orgasm of the night hits you violently.

Your screams are muffled by your own hand, walls pulsating around his cock as you cum, struggling to hold up your weight as your body falls limp on the sofa, pleasure buzzing through your veins and sending your mind whirling as Mark fucks you through it to reach his own high, moving his hand from your clit to rest on your lower back, arching your ass up to fuck you deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum?” He pants, his thumb stroking the top of your ass cheeks. “Fuck, tell me where I can cum”

“Anywhere you want” You garble your words, turning your head to the side to look at him, noticing how his eyes widen slightly.

“Anywhere?” Mark repeats as he slows his hips and you nod, yelping in shock when he pulls out of you completely and flips your body around once more, staring at him in surprise as he crawls up your body, resting his one hand on your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. “Here?”

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you open wide and Mark grins, pushing the head of his cock into your mouth and sighing as your lips close around him, letting you suckle on his tip as he cums in long spurts down your throat, brows lacing together in pleasure and moaning softly as your tongue presses against his slit, drinking up everything he gives to you.

It’s silent between you both as Mark removes himself from above you, opting to crash down in the limited space between your body and the sofa, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he breathes heavily.

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what had just happened, staring between Mark’s naked lower half and yours before you abruptly sit up, rolling onto your knees as you stare down at him incredulously.

“Dude!” You screech, punching his shoulder with such force that has him wincing.

“Ow! Jesus Chri—”

“What the fuck?! Why did you tell me you were that good?” You immediately cut him off, not allowing him to speak as you shake your head. “We should’ve done this years ago!!”

Mark rolls his eyes in annoyance despite the grin that spreads across his lips as he throws his arm over his face, “Shut up”

“Okay, so, let me repeat that—” Renjun pauses to chew and swallow his sandwich, pointing between you and Mark on the opposite side of the table “—you two decided to fuck each other last night because neither of you have fucked someone in a long time and now you’ve made some sort of deal that when you can’t find release elsewhere, you’ll go to each other?”

“Yeah”

“What the fuck?!” Renjun exclaims, looking at you both as if you’ve grown an extra head before abruptly turning to Donghyuck and Jaemin who sit silently together, watching everything unfold. “Why aren’t you guys saying anything?!”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be” Donghyuck shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he turns to look at you with his brows laced together, “Although, I’m kind of offended you didn’t ask me to fuck you”

You grimace, “It makes me queasy thinking about where your dick has been”

“When was the last time you got tested, Hyuck?” Mark teases, a slight smirk curling at the end of his lips as he leans back into his chair, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. Donghyuck rolls his eyes and retaliates by throwing him the middle finger to which Mark laughs at.

“And you’re okay with this?” Renjun questions Jaemin who slowly nods as he rolls a blunt beneath the table, lips pursed in concentration.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He grumbles, lifting his eyes to Renjun and raises a brow before looking back down to his lap. “Besides, sometimes I get so faded that I can’t even get my dick up. She needs good dick and I can’t give it to her when I’m that out of it”

You gasp in awe, reaching out to pinch his cheek, “You are so thoughtful!”

“So I’m the only sane person that thinks this is a stupid idea?” Renjun shakes his head in disbelief, biting into his sandwich with a sigh. His eyes widen, a piece of lettuce hanging from his mouth as he erratically pats his pockets, “Where’s Jeno? Somebody text Jeno”

“You know damn well Jeno isn’t going to give a shit” Donghyuck cackles. “Pretty sure he fucked his best girl friend last year”

“Yeah? And where is she now?” Renjun looks at you all for an answer and you frown, sinking into your seat with your arms crossed over your chest, “Exactly!!”

“Come on, dude, it’s not like that…” Mark tries to explain. “We talked about it. We’re not doing any of that exclusive or official stuff, we’re not making it weird”

“Meaning we can still fuck whoever we want” You add on, turning to look at Jaemin with a pretty smile and he looks back at you with a smirk, dropping his left eye into a flirtatious wink before resuming back in rolling his joint.

“So, what I’m hearing is—” Donghyuck pauses, leaning his elbows on his table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he bats his eyelashes at you, “There’s still a chance for you to fuck me?”

“I have more of a chance of getting fucked than you, Hyuck” Jeno��s voice interrupts from behind and you whiz around in your seat, grinning as you see Jeno nearing towards your table with his jacket in one hand and his books in the other.

He greets you all with a smile, placing his belongings down on the table before grabbing an empty chair from another, scraping the metal across the floor as he drags it to place beside Mark, slapping his hand down on his shoulder in greeting as he sits.

“Anyway, what are we talking about?”

“Mark and Y/N fucked” Renjun immediately jumps into it and you sigh, throwing your head back in frustration as Mark laughs beside you. “And they’re going to continue to fuck whenever they have no one else to, so—”

“Cool”

Renjun stares at Jeno incredulously. “That’s not cool!! You’re all helpless, every single one of you”

Jeno pulls a face, “You know, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be—”

“That’s what I said~” Donghyuck sings.

“—and besides, they’re grown adults, they can do whatever they want” Jeno’s words make your brows raise with little surprise, watching as he flips open his book and grabs the pen that rests behind his ear, tugging off the cap with his teeth before looking at you, “I’m surprised it took you this long to actually hook-up, I thought it would’ve happened months ago”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just means I thought you two would’ve fucked months ago” Jeno smiles and shrugs innocently, blowing the cap out of his mouth and catching it with his hand before he begins scribbling on the pages and you roll your eyes, craning your neck over your shoulder to look at Mark who shrugs his own shoulders, not fully understanding the meaning of Jeno’s words but chooses not to dwell on it any longer as he reaches for his drink, sipping through the straw as he gives his attention to Donghyuck who angles his phone in his direction to show him something that you could barely see.

Renjun shakes his head in disbelief, shoving the last remaining bite of his sandwich into his mouth and grabbing his own book out of his backpack to take notes alongside Jeno before comically raising his head up to point his pen at you and Mark.

“Also, I don’t want to hear any complaining from either of you when this whole ‘friends with benefits relationship’ bullshit ends up going to literal shit” Renjun warns before slowly turning the pen to point it as himself, “Because I will laugh in your face and simply say, ‘I told you so’”

A scoff leaves your lips as Mark speaks up, “Relax, dude, everything is going to be fine. And besides, it could just be a one time thing… It might not even happen again” Mark eyes you, “Right?”

Your lips curl into a smile as you lean your elbows on the table, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you give him a short nod, “Right”

“Mark, Mark, Mark” You moan out his name repeatedly, back arching off of your bed and gripping the pillows behind your head, mouth open wide as Mark’s fingers pump in and out of your pussy, waves of slick splashing onto the sheets below and his boxers. He laughs as you shove your face into your arm, body trembling and whines slipping past your lips from the overwhelming sensation of him fucking you with his fingers.

Your legs clamp shut around his hand but he’s already prying you back open with his other, holding them down to the bed as his fingers curl up into the sweet spot that has you trembling through your orgasm, almost bringing yourself to tears at the pressure in the pit of your tummy.

“There we go…” Mark hums, milking you for every drop you can give. You quiver and gasp as Mark comes to a stop, grinning as he pulls his fingers away from your cunt and you mewl, struggling to raise your foot and kick him in his side but he captures your ankle in his grasp, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You good?”

“You good” You mock with a scoff, arms flopping to your sides as you take a deep breath, ignoring the way Mark laughs again. “I felt like I was going crazy... that was intense”

“Thank you” Mark cheeses, eyes beaming as he slips off of your bed. “You need to change your sheets though”

“So gentlemanly of you to offer to help” You mutter sarcastically under your breath with a tut, standing up from the bed and your knees buckle beneath you, causing you to reach out and grab onto a surface to steady yourself, throwing your middle finger up in Mark’s direction as he snickers.

He tells you to go shower while he takes care of the sheets and you immediately oblige, patting his arm in a quick thank you as you wobble out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, eager to clean yourself up after previous activities.

You take a little longer than usual to shower, taking your time to scrub your body clean and even wash your hair, not even caring about what Mark could be doing inside your home as he waits for you, but you pause your routine as you begin to think about your relationship with Mark.

You’ve been hooking up for almost three weeks, showing up at each other's place whenever you’re in need of sex and getting the deed done before hanging out, getting a bite to eat or even watching something on the TV. You still sleep with Jaemin, you’ve even fucked Jaemin and Mark on the same day. Mark doesn’t care, and personally neither do you, but you start to recall the amount of times you have chosen Mark over Jaemin, and it was a lot.

You and Mark fuck whenever you have no one else to go to, yet given the choices… you still choose Mark.

“Dude!” Mark bangs his fist on the bathroom door, yanking you out of your thoughts, “I need to piss, hurry up!”

“Just come in!” You yell back at him, frowning as you face the stream of water to let the soap run off your body as you mumble, “It’s not like you haven’t barged in before”

You hear the door yank open behind the shower curtain and you poke your head around just in time for Mark to unzip his pants to relieve himself, his head tilting back with a sigh. His eyes meet yours and his brows pull together, giving you an odd look.

“What?”

“Can I ask you a question?” He blinks before giving you a nod, “Are you still fucking other people?”

“Yeah” That answer relieves you a bit. “I was with Arin last weekend”

“Okay, I have another question”

“Why are you—”

“I’m asking the questions” You cut him off and he chuckles, nodding for you to continue as he zips up his pants and washes his hands. “Has Arin, or any other girl, been available on the same day that I’ve asked you to come over?”

“Um…” Mark ponders for a moment, his bottom lip poking out in deep thought as he dries his hands on the towel. “Yeah, I think so”

“And who did you choose to go to?”

“You” It shocks you at how fast he answers and you grip the shower curtain for support, the slippery floor of the shower almost making you tumble. He chose you too. Is that wrong? You’re uncertain and it makes you feel a little uneasy. Surely there must be a reasonable explanation to why you choose each other instead of fucking the other available people. “Why are you asking me that anyways?”

“Curious” You say as you close the curtain shut to block him out and continue showering, ignoring the way he’s laughing and muttering beneath his breath how funny you are. “Wait, I have another question—”

“Ask me when you’re done showering”

“Why?” Your voice turns sultry as you begin to smirk, “Is knowing that I’m naked behind this flimsy shower curtain turning you on?”

Mark doesn’t answer, instead his arm shoots out from behind the curtain, hand curling around the tap to turn the temperature of the water, laughing like a maniac as he hears you scream from the cold water that splashes on your skin.

You hated birthdays.

Realistically, you hated your birthday. You hated knowing you’re getting older every year, desperately wanting to go back to the ages where all you worried about was not making a fool of yourself in front of someone you crushed on or not knowing the biggest high school gossip about who was seeing who behind whoever's back. Now, at your growing age, all you worry about is failing college and not being able to get a good job to provide a future for yourself.

You wish nobody knew it was your birthday, but having such close friends who knew you better than you knew yourself, it wasn’t going to be easy, and you nearly spun around and darted out of campus when you saw Donghyuck twirling a gift bag in hand with helium balloons that spelled out ‘birthday girl’ in big, bold letters tied to his wrist.

“Oh! There she is!”

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Happy birthday!” Donghyuck yells loudly when you reach their circle, letting your backpack drop to the grass beside Jaemin who looks up at you with a dopey smile. Donghyuck shoves the gift bag into your lap when you finally sit down, huffing at the weight of the bag. “I bought you something!!”

“We told him not to” Jeno tells you, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he looks at you through his bangs, “But as always, Donghyuck doesn’t listen”

“And I never will” Donghyuck chirps, untying the string of the balloons from around his wrist to tie them around yours instead, ignoring the dark look you give him as he smiles cheekily at you, “Look inside. It’s all the essentials you need, pretty”

“I swear to god, If you—”

“Shh” He presses his fingers against your lips. “Less talking, more looking”

You roll your eyes, whacking his hand away from your face before peering into the bag, a soft laugh leaving your lips when you first see two bottles of your favourite alcoholic beverage and a few chocolates, but you immediately deadpan when you see a pack of condoms and a plan B box sandwiched between the pair, staring back at you.

Jaemin peers over your shoulder to drop a premade joint and a few gummies into the bag for later but makes a funny noise when he sees the condom pack, dipping his hand inside the bag to pull it out, throwing it back at Donghyuck who fumbles to catch it.

“Hey—”

“She doesn’t use condoms”

Donghyuck gapes, slowly turning his head towards you with his eyes wide as he leans forward, his nose brushing against yours as he speaks lowly, “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me?”

“Positive” You giggle and pat his cheek as he whines in defeat, slumping back into his own space. “Thank you for the gifts, but please… you know I hate celebrating my birthday. And were the balloons really necessary too? Did you have to make it more obvious?”

“But the balloons are pretty” Donghyuck frowns, tugging on the string.

“She doesn’t like balloons, dude”

Your head whizzes around so quickly that you’re positive you could hear it crack at the speed, grinning wildly when you see Mark standing behind you looking at your balloons in disgust, and your brows raise in surprise when you see Arin beside him. You greet her with a wave and she reciprocates, wishing you a quiet happy birthday which you thank her for and you gesture them both to join you in your circle but Arin shakes her head with an apology, announcing that she has to meet up with someone else.

You watch as she places her hand on Mark’s bicep and asks if they can meet up later but Mark shakes his head, telling her that he already has plans and her face deflates before nodding in understanding, bidding him and the rest of you goodbye before leaving.

Mark lets out a huff as he drops down to the grass, stretching out his legs and knocking his foot against yours, mouthing you a quick happy birthday and you smile in gratitude.

“Arin seems to be hanging out with you a lot recently” Jeno points out, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing out the smoke in Renjun’s direction, causing him to cough and swat the smoke away with the book he’s got his face buried in. “You like her?”

Mark shakes his head, “No. She was just asking me if I wanted to come over this weekend”

“Are you?”

“Nah” Mark mindlessly starts plucking the grass, avoiding everyone's eyes as they zone in on him. “I don’t have time, got some assignments to finish for my classes”

Hearing him say he hasn’t got the time sparks interest in you and you begin to wonder if Mark would end up asking you for some well needed release. It excites you, especially when you realise you haven’t been under or on top of him in a few days and you press your thighs together at the thought of possibly being dicked down sooner rather than later.

It’s a birthday gift, you think to yourself when you try to give an excuse to why you’re so needy to be fucked by Mark. It’s just a birthday gift. Yet, you have Jaemin right beside you, someone who’s easily available and someone who used to be frequent in giving you the best birthday sex.

You could ask Jaemin to come over tonight, but why isn’t the question being asked? Why does it feel like you’re stopping yourself from asking something so simple and easy? Perhaps you’re so used to sleeping with Mark that it doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone else anymore. Jaemin doesn’t seem to be bothered, maybe because he’s been getting his fix elsewhere too, so why does it bother you?

A soft call of your name brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head towards the source, seeing Mark looking back at you with a kind smile. He shuffles further into the circle to get closer to you, voice dipping low as he speaks.

“Come home with me later? I have something for you”

“What is it?” You ask back, excitement filling your voice. Even though you weren’t a big fan of celebrating your birthday and receiving gifts, there was no doubt in your mind that Mark was probably one of the best people to receive gifts from, knowing he usually goes above and beyond to give you the most memorable birthday. You smile when you remember the three-day spa voucher he gave you last year when he had taken you away for the weekend.

It was the most breath-taking cabin you have ever been to, the sunset above the lake still photographed in your memory. The sight was beautiful, and you were grateful to have seen it with your best friend.

“You’ll find out” Mark tells you with a smile, refusing to give you a hint of any sort as he turns his attention to Renjun to engage in a conversation and you pout, shoulders slumping in defeat and Donghyuck knocks his arm against yours, voice dipping low as he whispers in your ear.

“That plan B will come in handy after all—OUCH!”

“This is fucking ridiculous” You giggle as you’re blindly walked in Mark’s apartment, his hands covering your eyes to prevent you from seeing anything even though you tried to peek through the gaps between his fingers. Mark’s chest rumbles against your back as he laughs, waiting for you to toe off your shoes at the entrance before leading you further into the apartment.

You have the layout completely mapped out in your head from the amount of times you’ve been at his place, already knowing that he’s bringing you into the kitchen just by the cold marbling that you feel beneath your feet.

You almost trip as Mark plants you down on a chair and he whispers a countdown in your ears before he removes his hands from your face. Your vision is blurry for a moment and you try to adjust to your surroundings with a few blinks, your jaw dropping in awe as the splotches begin to disperse, allowing you to see what’s in front of you.

“Are you kidding me?” You whisper softly in astonishment at the gifts that are presented in front of you on the table. You spot a few of your favourite scented candles stacked on top of each other, a bottle of perfume that you were 100% sure that was sitting in your wishlist on an online store you were browsing a few days prior and a miniature bag with the logo of your favourite jewellery store.

You feel overwhelmed, the urge to cry becoming harder to keep at bay as your eyes water and sting, throat tightening over how thoughtful Mark had been. You turn your head towards him with your bottom lip quivering and Mark snickers, pulling a party hat from god knows where and comes closer to you

“You asshole” You insult jokingly, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe at your eyes, hoping that the tears wouldn’t dare fall as Mark secures the pointed hat on top of your head. You point to it, “Isn’t this a little cheesy?”

Mark rolls his eyes, snapping the elastic bad against your chin for extra measure and you hiss at the slight sting it causes, punching his arm in retaliation but he pays no mind, smiling to himself as he faces his back to you as he pulls open the refrigerator door to pick up a white squared box. He balances it on the palm of his hand with ease, using his foot to kick the refrigerator door shut as he makes his way back to you.

You’re grinning widely at the thought of what could be inside the box even though you’ve already guessed its cake, rubbing your hands together excitingly as Mark places it on the counter and gently slides it over to you, the box still in his grasp as it stops in front of you, drumming his fingers on the cardboard.

Sensing your eagerness, Mark lifts the lid off of the box and the excitement on your face drops almost instantly, turning blank as you peek inside to see the miniature watermelon themed cake staring back at you. You raise your head at Mark who’s already grinning at you, tongue poking at his cheek as he opens up a drawer to retrieve two plastic forks, twiddling them between his fingers.

You deadpan, “Are you sure we’re not celebrating your birthday right now?”

“Shut up, you like watermelon just as much as I do” Mark scoffs, handing you one of the plastic forks and you take it out of his grasp with a smile. You go to take a piece but Mark makes a weird noise, causing you to freeze mid cut. “Wait—dude—jesus, let me take a photo first”

You roll your eyes but happily oblige as Mark fishes his phone out of his pocket and angles it towards you. You pose, pointing to the cake with a wide grin, almost blinded by the flash when Mark takes the picture and you immediately rub at your eyes, trying to get rid of the blotches with a few creative curse words that make Mark laugh.

He quickly takes this opportunity to slide beside you and holds his phone high to take a selfie of you both. You poke out your tongue, using your free hand to make bunny ears behind Mark’s head who grins and uses his own free hand to grip your cheeks and squeeze to force you into pulling a weird face.

Before you have the chance to complain, you gasp in shock when you feel the coldness of the cake’s frosting touch your cheek and the shutter of the camera goes off when Mark takes another photo, capturing you mid chaos as you dig your fingers into the side of the cake to smush a piece against his cheek, grinning evilly as the green frosting covers his skin.

“Alright, I deserved that” Mark sighs with a light laugh, making sure his phone is tucked away and out of the icing zone. “Makes a good blackmail photo though, don’t you think?”

“If that goes anywhere, I will kill you”

“You already know that's going on my Instagram, baby~” Mark teases you and you scoff jokingly, shaking your head as you reach for the napkins that are laying on the side, trying your best to wipe away the frosting before it drops and stains your clothing.

Mark manages to clean himself easily but notices you struggling, deciding to help you out as he picks up another napkin and takes a hold of your chin, facing you towards him as he gently taps at your cheek, careful not to rub too hard at your skin.

You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity and you grow silent, watching as he cleans you up. The concentrated look on his face causes your stomach to whirl and chest feel warm, his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed in on the area he needs to clean, tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

“Mark…” You call out his name softly to grab his attention and he pauses, staring right at you. He seems to notice how close you both are too as he takes in the limited space between you both, slowly taking his hand away from your face but he stops himself with a quiet noise, bringing his hand back to finish his job.

“Happy birthday, dude” Mark whispers to you as he finally wipes the frosting off of your cheeks, smiling down at you with adoration swirling in his eyes.

Your breathing stops for a moment at the affectionate gaze, unsure of what to say or what to do with him looking at you the way he is. Your hands move up to take the birthday hat off of your head, dropping it to the side carelessly as you curl your arms around his shoulders, pushing up onto your tiptoes to embrace him.

Mark’s arms slither around your waist, holding you close to his chest as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crevice of your neck and exhaling deeply.

“I’m so thankful” You mutter, squeezing him tight as the emotions within you struggle to be contained. “Truly, Mark. I’m grateful too… Thank you for making this birthday special again”

“It’s not over yet, you know” You hear him mumble. You go to pull back, to ask him what more he could possibly give you to top everything else but he’s already bending his knees, arms falling down to lock around your thighs and throwing you over his shoulder with a huff, smacking his hand roughly against your ass as he carries your giggly self to the bedroom.

Friday nights will always be your favourite nights to let loose and party: dressing up in your prettiest outfit that makes you feel confident, decorating your body with the shiniest jewellery you own and drinking the most intoxicating drink you could find while mingling with your friends.

Talking with your girls face to face after a week of classes had unfailingly lifted your mood, catching up with all the gossip you missed or briefly discussed over the phone, adding your own two cents into a situation which they eagerly agree with a nod their heads, tapping their cups to yours before taking a sip.

“Speaking of unusual relationships—” Sakura, one of your dearest friends, speaks up as she turns to look at you with a grin. “—girl, how’s it going with you and Mark? Things turned weird yet?”

“Nope” You shake your head, buzzing happily. “We’re fine. The whole hooking up with your best friend culture isn’t as complicated as everyone makes it out to be. Everyone gets dramatic about that shit”

Sua lets out a heavy sigh, nursing her drink in her hand. “I don’t know how you do it… I couldn’t imagine hooking up with Yeonjun. I mean, he’s attractive, but we’ve seen and know too much about each other to get physical on an intimate level. Props to you”

Heejin looks at you. “Do you still fuck Jaemin?”

“On occasion” You admit. “But honestly, I’ve been so wrapped in assignments—”

“And Mark”

You give Sakura a smirk, “—that I haven’t really had time to call up Jaemin and ask to fuck. Besides, he doesn’t mind. He’s been busy smoking and selling weed for extra cash”

“What about Mark? Is he still fucking around?”

You pause at that, lips pursing deep in thought before you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. I haven’t asked recently”

Sua gestures over your shoulder, “Looks like you’re about to find out the answer”

You crane your neck to follow the direction she’s pointing in, noticing Mark standing near a back wall with a drink in hand, deep in conversation with Arin who’s smiling and nodding to each word he’s speaking to her.

Feeling your eyes on him, Mark looks up to capture your gaze, raising his drink in greeting and you grin, lifting your own cup and watching as he resumes back in conversation.

You take in his appearance with interest: a baggy white shirt paired with some loose fitted pants and doc martens you’re certain he stole from Donghyuck. A silver chain hangs from his neck and a cap sits backwards on the top of his head, you stifle a laugh at how much of a fuckboy he looks but you must admit, he looks good.

“Subtle with the lovey dovey eyes, sweetheart” Sakura teases, nudging your shoulder to bring your attention back to her and you laugh, tipping your head back to finish the contents of your drink. “He looks good though, so I don’t blame you”

“When was the last time you fucked Mark?” You aim your question towards Heejin who shrugs her shoulders.

“I don’t remember” She smacks her lips together. “Definitely more than two months, that’s for sure… No disrespect to you but god I miss his cock. How he walks around with that thing completely baffles me”

Sua's eyes widen. “Is Mark’s cock big?”

“Yes” You and Heejin answer instantly, causing you both to laugh and high five each other. You drone out the complaints Sua makes about wanting to fuck someone with a huge cock and how Yeonjun always recommends her people that are both shitty in bed and lack personality, too focused on looking around the room to find a clear path to get more drinks, dismissing yourself from the girls for a moment as you spot Jeno and Jaemin pouring vodka into each others cups.

You bound over to your boys, throwing your arms around their shoulders and startling them both with your presence, but Jaemin lazily smiles when he sees it's you and presses a chaste kiss to your temple as Jeno pats the back of your head in greeting, offering to fill your cup up which you happily give him.

“Where have you been?” Jaemin asks you, taking your hand in his and whirls you around, whistling lowkey as he takes in your dress. “You look pretty”

“Catching up with my girls because I spend way too much time with you guys” You explain, but cheesily grin at the compliment he gives you on your outfit and bow. Jeno hands you your drink back and you thank him, taking a quick sip as your eyes glance around the room. “Where’s the rest of the guys anyway?”

“Donghyuck’s trying to get laid and Renjun’s around here somewhere chatting up a girl from his classes” Jeno informs, gulping down his drink with ease. “Mark’s been talking with Arin for the past hour—sweet girl is trying to make her move”

“Why aren’t you trying to show off your charms tonight?”

Jeno stares at you suggestively, smirking behind the rim of his cup. “Why would I when I got you and Jaemin right here?”

Your tongue pokes at your cheek, struggling to fight the urge not to smile. “Not funny. It was a one time thing, Lee… You were only there because Jaemin felt guilty he couldn’t last long enough to make me cum”

“Still had you screaming on my dick though” Jeno teases, gently knocking his fingers against your cheeks as you laugh. “And don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone. Pretty sure if I tell Donghyuck I actually did get to fuck you before him, he’d end up losing his mind”

You ponder it for a moment, “It would be kind of funny though”

“What would be funny?”

“Donghyuck!” You squeal as he appears beside Jeno, staring at you all with a confused look but grins when you throw yourself in his arms to hug him tightly, swaying you both back and forth. “I thought you were trying to get laid?”

“I was” Donghyuck sighs, pulling away from the hug but keeping an arm wrapped around your middle. “But she had a boyfriend and he’s, like, six foot something and I didn’t feel like getting my ass handed back to me by slenderman himself”

You pout, pinching his cheek. “What a shame. The dry spell continues”

Donghyuck leans into your touch, batting his eyelashes prettily at you with a smirk. “You can change that for me if you want”

“In your dreams”

Donghyuck sighs jokingly, dropping his head low as his shoulders sag. “Guess I’ll keep on dreaming then. You sound even prettier when you’re moaning my name there—”

“What’s going on?”

The sound of Mark’s voice speaking up behind you causes you to whiz around quickly, beaming as your eyes meet his but it falters slightly when you notice the fake smile he’s sporting, wanting to turn the question around and ask him what’s going on.

But you didn’t want to bring attention to the subject, knowing it’ll make Mark uncomfortable putting him on the spot despite him continuously being open with the others. It’s not something to speak publicly about if it’s serious.

You touch his arm and give him a comforting squeeze to which he seems to relax, using your grip on him to tug you into his side and for Donghyuck’s arm to slip from your waist.

“The usual. Donghyuck trying to get her into his bed” Jeno fills him in, fishing a strawberry flavoured vape out of his pocket to take a drag and Jaemin retches at the smell, wafting it away with his hand. “How’s Arin?”

“Fine” Mark quips, licking at his lips as he turns to you. “Do you want to get out of here? Just me and you”

Donghyuck immediately takes offence to that, “What about us? We all came here together, man!”

“I’m taking her home to fuck her, Hyuck” Mark deadpans, giving him an unamused look while your tummy swirls with excitement. “Do you want to watch?”

“Well—”

“I was kidding”

You’re in complete bliss with Mark hovering above you, your back arched, bare chest pressed to his as he nips and licks at your neck, his hips lazily grinding into yours, cock hitting deeper than he’s ever been.

The pace is slow, something that you’re not used to when it comes to Mark, but you don’t find the voice within yourself to complain, fingers winding through his hair with cries spilling from your lips, legs hooking over his waist.

He’s grunting in the crevice of your neck with each deep thrust, one hand caressing the side of your face while the other rests beside your head, stopping himself from laying his entire body weight on you.

You’re whining from the loss of contact when he moves his head away, missing the feeling of his teeth on your skin and looking up at him pleadingly but he’s frozen staring down at you, despite his hips thrusting automatically into you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty” You barely hear him mumble and your heart pounds in your chest at the compliment, body feeling a little more heated and warm.

“Mark—”

He cuts off your words by planting his lips on yours with the most sweetest and soft kiss, and you melt into the touch, fingers untangling from his hair to cup his cheeks in your palms, gasping through the kiss as Mark’s cock slowly pulls out of your pussy before pushing back in, causing electricity to shoot up your spine.

The band in your tummy tightens with each slow but powerful thrust he gives you, thighs quivering around his frame, unable to keep up with his kisses as your mouth falls open with short gasps and whines, white specs flickering in your vision as you feel yourself inching closer and closer over the edge.

“Cum” Mark whispers, breath fanning over your face. “Do it. Cum on my cock”

You wail as the band snaps, orgasm crashing down on you violently. Your body convulses, pussy squeezing around his cock, keeping him buried deep which has him moaning, his own hips stuttering as he cums. You feel him pulsing inside, painting your walls white as he fills you up.

Mark’s head slumps down on your shoulder as you try to catch your breath, cringing and wincing as you feel him slowly moves his hips back to pull his cock out of your sensitive pussy, your hand falling from his face to drop down to your centre, gathering his cum that pools out on your fingers.

“I’m sorry” Mark mumbles against your skin. “I’m sorry, I—shit, I should’ve asked if I could, you know—” Mark raises his hand to make a jerking off motion which causes you to snort. “—I got too overwhelmed. I’m sorry”

“It’s kinda cute that you’re apologising” You admit, gently pushing him off of your body to sit upright. “But you don’t need to apologise. This isn’t the first time you came in me, Mark”

“I know” Mark runs his fingers through his sweaty bangs. “I usually ask though”

“Mark. It’s fine” You reassure him, placing your palm on his bicep. “I’ll forgive you if you help clean me up though”

Mark smiles softly as he slips off of the bed, disappearing out of the room for a moment and returning with a wet towel. He sits between your legs as he gently cleans up the mess, gently dabbing around your sensitive areas and whispering apologies after apologies every time you hiss at the contact, thighs closing around his hand which he carefully pries open to resume his job.

You watch in silence as he cleans you up and you frown at the troubled look you see on his face, not used to seeing Mark being so closed up with his feelings and emotions. Mark hasn’t been open with you in a few weeks, he hasn’t come to you and asked for your reassurance or help. It makes you feel a little bit defeated.

Something was different, and you struggled to pinpoint what it was.

The questions lay on the tip of your tongue, desperate to be asked and even more desperate to get the answers you’ve been craving. Your relationship with Mark has changed since the proposition you’ve made about sleeping together, but he was still your best friend.

“What’s going on?” You finally ask. Mark freezes, hand clutching the wet towel in his grasp tightly. “And don’t lie to me. I can tell when you’re being truthful or not—”

“What am I to you?” Mark questions and you're a little stunned at your question being answered with his own question. He takes his hand away as you blink at him, feeling confused. “Even with all, like, this going on… what am I to you?”

“You’re my best friend?”

Mark seems to frown deeply at that, “So nothing has changed? At all? Even with us sleeping together? I’m still your best friend?”

“I—of course!” You’re baffled, assuming that with the way Mark is speaking about yours and his situation that he was worried that you’d have negative feelings towards him. You’re eager to reassure him, to let him know that everything is okay. “Mark, you’ll always be my best friend. We promised nothing would change. I’m keeping that promise”

Mark closes his eyes as his shoulders sink, “Dude, I—” He drops his head with a sigh. “I can’t do this anymore”

“Do what?” You ask quietly, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“This” He gestures between the two of you. “I just—I can’t. Not anymore. I can’t continue sleeping with you”

“Oh” You swallow thickly, a little surprised. “Why?”

“Things have changed” His voice is quieter now and it makes your heart crumble at the tone. Does he hate you? “I can’t continue whatever this is and be your best friend. It has to stop, it—” Mark sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “It can’t go on, I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” You mumble as your chin rests on your knees, hugging your legs closer to your chest to cover your modesty. You refuse to look at him now, finding interest in the sheets below you both as your throat tightens at the thought of him hating you so much that he can’t do anything with you no more. “I’m sorry too, by the way. I don’t know what I did you make you hate me, but I—”

“Wait, what?”

“—I’m just sorry. Especially if I came across too strong and for putting you in such a position” You’re babbling your words now, unable to control yourself due to the overwhelmed feeling that washes over you. “Fuck, I’m so sorry”

“Wait. I don’t—”

“Let’s just not tell the others, okay?” You raise your head to meet his eyes this time. He’s looking straight at you, confusion and disbelief swimming in his irises but you ignore it, chewing the inner skin of your cheek. “Mostly Renjun. I don’t really want to hear him laugh in our faces and give us the whole ‘I told you so’ speech he threatened us with at the start”

Mark calls out your name softly and reaches out to touch you but you’re already climbing off of the bed, looking for your underwear and dress that was thrown across the room due to prior activities.

You’re too embarrassed to continue the conversation, to ask him what exactly you did to make him grow to hate you. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to dwell on it too much, the pain of losing someone like Mark already making your heart ache.

You just wanted to go home—to be in the comfort of your own bed and curse yourself out, and probably cry to the point you might forget everything that just happened. You are feeling a little teary, but you wouldn’t dare to cry in front of Mark right now.

“I’ll, uh, see you around” You mutter, shoving the heels onto your feet, casting one final look his way. “I’m sorry”

It's been almost two weeks since your last encounter with Mark.

You shouldn’t be avoiding him like you are. It’s childish. But you can’t force yourself to face someone who used to be your best friend and now hates you.

Maybe you should’ve waited a few more minutes, to give him time to explain the entire situation and how he was feeling but you were selfish, you didn’t want to hear him explain in detail what you had done to make him change his feelings towards you.

You miss him. Of course you miss him. He’s been your best friend for years—your other half, more like. There was no you without Mark and vice versa. You weren’t exactly sure on how you could continue functioning with Mark by your side, as dramatic as it sounds, but you’ve always been dramatic.

The other boys have been blowing up your phone—courtesy of you ignoring them too, not wanting to hear Renjun rub it in your face on how the ‘friends with benefits bullshit’ you had with Mark did actually go to shit. And you didn’t want to hear the others continuously question what had happened and what had changed.

Even your roommate, someone who keeps herself out of your business and hardly ever bothers you, had cornered you one morning at breakfast, asking why you looked so glum and why the ‘shirtless Canadian fuckboy’ wasn’t joining you both.

You’re not the type to let anyone know your worries, but you’re surprised when you find yourself explaining to your roomie what happened.

She gave you a deadpanned look, calling you stupid for not staying behind and listening despite you voicing that you couldn’t bear to listen to why his feelings had suddenly turned negative towards you. Your face twisted and turned, offended at her harsh words but you allowed yourself to let her talk and not jump in even though you desperately wanted to.

“You’re jumped to your own conclusion” She told you when she was clearly up the dishes. “You know, for two close best friends who talk to each other every second of the day, you sure have some serious miscommunication issues”

So that’s what leads you to now: you sitting alone in the living room with your phone in hand, staring down at yours and Mark’s chat room with your thumb between your teeth, biting down on the skin anxiously as you try to figure out how to start a conversation, to let him know you will listen.

you: i think we need to talk.

mark: i’m almost at ur house anyway i had to go get something

you: ???? u coming over

mark: yeah mark: i was going to make u listen to me mark: its important dude.

You snort at his last message, sending a quick thumbs up emoji before throwing your phone to the side, awaiting his arrival. You catch your leg nervously bobbing in the corner of your vision and your brows furrow, placing your hand down on your knee and squeezing tight. As if that will stop you from feeling nervous.

You’re about to hear the reason why Mark’s feelings had changed for you so negatively, nothing can prepare you for it. Bite the bullet. Take it like a champ.

The rapid knock on the door rips you out of your thoughts, slowly turning your head with a confused look plastered across your face. Was that Mark? Mark never knocks—he freely walks in like it’s his own place usually, always makes himself at home.

You push yourself up from the sofa and make your way towards the door, peeping through the hole to see Mark’s form, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip with his hands behind his back, swaying back and forth nervously. You grow even more confused and concerned, unlocking the door and pulling it open to face him fully.

“Why did you kno—”

“Hate you?!” He cuts you off with a shout, immediately startling you with his tone. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, full of disbelief. “Hate you, I—jesus christ—how could I hate you?! Dude, I’d never hate you… god, you’re so frustrating sometimes”

Your lips quirk upwards, “Nice to see you too”

“I don’t hate you, at all… When I said to you that things have changed, I didn’t mean anything bad by it… it’s actually quite the opposite…” Mark trails off and before you can get the chance to ask him to explain what he means, your breath hitches at the back of your throat as he pulls his hands from behind his back: a bag of jellies in one and a handful of ripped up flowers in the other. Your heart thumps rapidly. “I’m going to tell you something and I just—I need you to listen”

You barely whisper, “Okay”

“Being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as I thought it was going to be” Mark tells you, his honesty making you pull your attention away from the things in his hands to his eyes. “We promised each other that we’re not going to involve any of that official or exclusive title bullshit to make it complicated for us… yet here I am standing in front of you right now with the same jellies and flowers in my hand from when we first met about to confess my fucking feelings to you, I’m so—”

“You’re rambling” You cut him off quietly, a smile creeping onto your lips.

“Right, yeah, of course I am” Mark laughs with a shake of his head, awkwardly scratching his neck before he straightens out, keeping his eyes on yours. “I fell for you. I think I sort of realised it on your birthday but I didn’t want to say anything just in case I wasn’t really thinking straight… but when we were at that party and I saw the guys flirting with you, I realised how much I actually do like you and that it wasn’t my dick talking”

You snort as you repeat, “Dick talking”

“Shut up” He smiles at you, his own laugh fleeting past his lips. “I’m in love with you, dude. And I totally get it if you want to reject me because of how weirdly this turned out but, uh, I would like to continue seeing you if I could be your... boyfriend”

You’re too busy repeating his confession in your head to notice that Mark is waiting for an answer, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he bites down nervously, visibly shaking for excitement or the fact that he just confessed his entire feelings—you weren’t sure.

The silence from you kills Mark, and his face drops when you step forward to quietly take the flowers and the jellies out of his hand and step back inside the house. His shoulders slump in defeat, taking your non verbal response as a rejection to his proposal of him being your boyfriend and he goes to turn around, to get the fuck off of your doorstep and hope that the intense embarrassment that he feels coursing through his veins is enough to make him disappear quickly.

But he freezes mid escape when he hears the rustling of you ripping open the pack of jellies, turning his head to see you looking at him with the most gentlest smile. He watches, chest erupting with warmth as you reach your arm out, angling the treat in his direction and a grin spreads across his face, unable to control the giggles that leave him.

You’re giving him a jelly, you’re giving him a relationship.

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

#nct smut #mark lee smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct mark smut #mark lee scenarios

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luviisabella · 4 months ago

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Hey, I recently developed a small obsession with the song "Crush" by Tessa Violet and I was wondering if you could share some thoughts about it ✨ Maybe Katsuki feels like a hopeless loser as he crushed over Reader, not knowing that the Reader has already these feelings? Overall, just fluff hehe 🫶

authors notes: aw I listened to the song and it’s cute, i definitely see him being a sucker for reader and thinking she doesn’t feel the same way :(

context: fluff, university au (18+)

It was the week before fall break, some classes were either canceled for teachers vacation or there wasn’t much going on. On Friday, the school through a mini festival in celebration of fall break and for good luck with new season.

Everyone was allowed to either dress up, wear their uniforms, or costumes depending on whether or not they were in the festival. You decided to wear black leggings, brown boots(like uggs), a white long sleeve with a cute brown jacket and a scarf (color of your choice). It was cold so everyone was wearing pants, long sleeves, scarves, and whatever to keep themselves even remotely warm.

—

“Bakugou!”

You noticed him shooting hoops at a basketball game outside with Kirishima as you walk over to them.

“Hey y/n, nice fit”

Kirishima was always good with compliments, kept it respectful and causal.

“Thanks kiri” you softly smile at his compliment. You look over at Bakugou who hasn’t even bat an eye at you. Him and Kirishima were in their school attire which looked so good on Bakugou. He wasn’t even wearing the sweater, just the white button down and tie and oh God-

“What’re you staring at?”

He was talking to you.

“Sorry I was-“ and then you stopped talking, realizing he still wasn’t looking at you. What’s his deal? Usually he’d at least acknowledge you with a “here to bother me?” Or “what do you want.”

His demeanor this time seemed so dismissive, you figured it was because he was focused on the game so you waited until he was finished.

Ding Ding Ding

“Congratulations young man, you can pick any prize up there of your choice”

The game manager looked at Bakugou as he walked off, huffing under his breath.

“Don’t want one.”

Your eyes also follow Bakugou as he walks away.

“How much is that panda?” You politely turn to ask the man, hoping it would make him feel better and to excuse Bakugou’s behavior.

“Well if you play it’s free if you win but if you’re talking cash it’s [___]”

You slightly frowned, not thinking it was worth it so you politely declined before looking back to try and find Bakugou.

You finally found him and as you began walking towards him you noticed a girl come up to him. She was also in the school uniform but she seemed… flirty? Her hand gently nudging Bakugou as she laughed and smiled, was she blushing?? You couldn’t see Bakugou’s face since his back was turned to you, but you didn’t want to see him. The girl pulled out her phone and handed it to Bakugou and that’s when you turned around.

You walked away, as far as you could. He was being a jerk to you but had the patience for a girl he’s never even met? Your heart was beating against your chest, you knew you liked him and assumed it was jealousy. Maybe it was. Or maybe it was the way you were hoping he’d at least comment on your outfit. You found a nearby bench and sat down, allowing your mind to relax as your emotions began circling around you like an endless whirlpool.

You looked around the scenery. It was packed with university students and some teachers. There were so many food trucks, game machines, and etc. it was busy. In hopes of taking your mind off of it you decided to buy some cotton candy.

—

“Can I get strawberry?” You politely ask the young man. He seemed to be in if not your grade at least the grade above.

“Anything for a pretty girl like you”

You smile at his compliment, “Thank you” at least someone aside from Kirishima noticed your presence.. but it wasn’t him.

You paid for the cotton candy before walking off, as you were about to take some you felt a strong hand pull you back, now taking a piece of your cotton candy.

“Hey-“ you notice it’s Bakugou, you look at him before handing him the cotton candy.

“Have it.” And you turn to walk away before he pulls you back by your arm.

“I never said I wanted it.”

“Then throw it away.” You were giving him attitude and he was not having it.

“The hell’s your problem.”

“I don’t know go ask your girlfriend.”

“Hah-?!”

“You heard me, that girl that was obviously flirting with you.”

“I don’t want her. That’s why I told her to ‘fuck off’, what’s it to you?”

You bite your lip, you’ve had enough with these stupid feelings and the way your heart races every time he’s near.

“I like you. I’m not sure if I’ve made it obvious, but if not then now you know. So sorry if im a bit of a grouch seeing another girl flirt with the guy I’ve liked since high school and today seemed to not even bother acknowledging me until now.”

Wow- you really let it all out huh? There was a moment of silence and he just stared at you. You looked away for a moment and closed your eyes before sighing..

“Look-“ but your words were cut off when you opened your eyes and saw the expression on his face, your body growing hot all over from shock.

“What did you just say?”

He was red. His cheeks, nose, ears, all red. He looked like he would pass out from a 104 fever right then and there. Why was he reacting this way??

“That I- like you..?” You were confused.. what was the problem?

He covered his mouth with his hand before turning to look away.

“Dumbass.”

He lifted his hand, a panda plushie? Wait. This was the one from earlier?? From the basketball game?? How did he-

“I saw you talking to the guy, I went back and asked him what you were talking about so when he told me I got it with the tickets I won from the stupid game.”

You gently cupped it with both of your hands before looking at it and back up at him.

“Bakugou-“

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner??”

You slightly frowned, why did it matter? It seemed like he didn’t like you anyways.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way and here I’ve been trying to keep myself together cause I thought you were being an idiot and couldn’t tell I liked you.”

What?

What did he just say?!

“You.. like me too?”

“Obviously idiot. Why do you think I never look at you when you talk to me?” He rubs the back of his head before sighing.

“You’ve been driving me insane since we graduated. Couldn’t get you out of my damn head. When I told Kirishima he told me I liked you but I denied it.. then when I saw you the first day of school.. I realized he was right and I was being an idiot trying to say otherwise.”

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d like a guy like me.”

“I don’t think-“ and his words were cut off with the sudden impact to his chest. You were hugging him. You wrapped your arms around his back, the plushie still in hand as you buried your face into his chest.

“You’re right.”

And his heart aches for a moment at your words.

“I know-“

“You are an idiot for thinking otherwise and for thinking I wouldn’t like a ‘guy like you’.”

His eyes widened a little in surprise, you looked up at him and smiled.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, it hasn’t changed except for the fact that the longer I knew you the more I wanted to be with you. You’re a good person.. kats. You shouldn’t feel otherwise. You’re more than enough for me, okay?”

Oh you pulled on a heartstring.. the minute you buried your face back into his chest he hugged you tightly. Now burying his face in your neck as he smiled against your shoulder.

—

“You’re too damn good for me.”

“And you’re perfect for me.”

Ah I hope this was okay, I feel like I rushed it a bit but I wanted to finish it for you. I really hope you like it if not it’s okay 🥲, this was a cute concept though, Bakugou definitely would think he’s a bit too much for you but with you reassuring him he’s enough I think all he can do is melt for you more. I’m a sucker for loser Bakugou who melts for reader.

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thequattlebaumstore · 1 year ago

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holyblonded · 18 days ago

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purple string rings | birds of a feather

pairings: paige bueckers x black!oc

summary: paige and cecilia will be together forever and always even when paige randomly hard launches their relationship

warnings: fluff galore, mentions/illusions to death

notes: new series while I think of stuff for the other one😛

Paige has been married for eighteen of her twenty one years of life. Married to the love of her life at that.

Paige, ever the extrovert, sought out the shyest kid in her kindergarten class on the first day of school and declared they were best friends. By recess, Paige declared she and - were married.

"Cecilia, I love you," five year old Paige stated, holding Cecilia's hands in hers. The two stood under a tree secluded from the rest of their class. "Will you marry me?"

Cecilia who was still learning the English language and was quite shy, decided the best thing to do was to just nod. Paige smiled brightly and hugged Cecilia.

From that moment on, the two were stuck together like glue. Where ever Paige was Cecilia was and vice versa. Paige isn't at the basketball court? Oh, she must be down the soccer field watching Cecilia practice. Cecilia is at the field? She's obviously with in the stands watching Paige and Drew goof around.

Paige hated it when people said the two weren't wed.

"Paige, you can't exactly marry someone this young," Bob Bueckers tried to explain to his daughter.

Paige stomped her foot down and crossed her arms, "No, Dad! We are married! Cece is my wife." She even made Cecilia a ring out of purple yarn and strings, but she wore everyday until she couldn't anymore. Little Paige made sure everyone knew who her wife was.

Eventually, one day in eighth grade the paper ring became a real ring, something Paige saved all her allowance to buy. It was nothing extraordinary, but a simple gold band that Cecilia cherished with her whole heart.

At the end of their eighth grade year, Cecilia gifted Paige a ring. The same day Cecilia left to for Spain. Cecilia slipped the matching silver ring onto Paige's finger with a wobbly smile, "Now we both have something to prove our marriage."

"I love you, Cecilia."

"I love you too, Paige."

That ring was kept on both persons at all times. Paige opted to tie it with her shoe laces during her games and while Cecilia couldn't wear any jewelry during her games, she kisses her right ring finger before every game.

It didn’t take long for the media to notice Paige’s ring on her shoes as a freshman at UConn. After UConn upset Syracuse, an interviewer finally asked. “Paige many people have noticed the ring stringed in your shoe, would you like to offer an explanation?”

Nika and Aubrey sat at either sides of Paige and both laughed when the question was asked.

“It’s from my wife,” Paige bluntly said. The media room when quiet as they all absorbed the words.

“Excuse me?”

“My wife got it for me,” Paige held up her right hand that bore the ring. “Pretty neat, right? I’m really proud of her, she recently won the Golden Girl Award.”

“Uh, Paige,” a different interviewer asked, “is your… wife the young Barcelona star Cecilia Buscatells?”

“Yep.”

The room erupted with questions as Geno shut down the press conference, “That’s all for today, thank you.”

Paige, Nika, and Aubrey walked out in silence.

“Cece is going to kill you,” Nika said as they continued their journey to the locker room. Aubrey hummed in agreement.

“She is, isn’t she?”

#barca femini x reader #paige bueckers x reader #woso x reader #fcb femeni x reader #paige bueckers x black!reader #paige bueckers x black reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #birds of a feather series

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freshthoughts2020 · 20 days ago

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thy-lovelylionheart · 3 days ago

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Mike Wheeler: S4 Outfits & Identity Crisis Analysis

One of aspects of s4 I find the most interesting is Mike's costuming. We see him in 4 distinct outfits in this season (not counting the white t-shirt look since it's not a separate outfit), and they are all interesting in their own right. But ultimately, they all contrast each other and represent different aspects of Mike's internal conflict and identity crisis.

s4 is the season where Mike's internal conflict is externalized via his costume design. He’s trying to figure out who he is and – like for so many queer teens – it starts with his hair and his clothes.

Shout-out to @glisten-inthedark because it was during a fantastic discussion that I drafted out a much shorter, much rougher version of this analysis!

*Disclaimer: While a lot of my analysis is formatted as statements – more out of habit from years of writing academic essays than anything – much of this is still speculation and subjective opinion. If you have a different perspective or disagree with my analysis, that's perfectly fine! This is just my interpretation.

First up, my second favorite outfit: The Hellfire outfit.

If you put this Mike beside any of his s3 outfits, the difference is incredibly stark. s3 Mike has bright colors, neons spread throughout the palette, nearly all of them collared shirts. Yet the first outfit we see Mike wear in s3 is edgier: nearly all-black, featuring the word HELLFIRE loud and proud, the face of a tiefling or daemon, and weapons. This is also the first time we've seen Mike wear a graphic tee, which is more up Dustin's alley.

Not only this, but his hair is long enough to brush his shoulders, the longest we've ever seen it. Finn Wolfhard calls it "kind of the most metal Mike's hair has ever been."

So why is this so important? Let's talk about modeling for a second.

Dustin models himself after Steve in parts of s2. He listens to Steve's romantic advice and styles his hair like Steve's for the Snow Ball. For Dustin, Steve represents the masculine, heternormative ideal: the kind of guy who girls want to date, a "ladies man." When Dustin does find a girlfriend who loves him for him, he stops modeling after Steve in terms of outward appearance and returns to his own personal sense of style in s3. In fact, it's Dustin who ends up giving Steve romantic advice in s3, because their roles have flipped: Dustin is comfortable in who he is and his romantic prospects, whereas Steve is struggling. ("Instead of dating somebody because you think it's gonna make you cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around?"

Lucas wears a Karate Kid shirt in s3 bc Max thinks Ralph Macchio is attractive, so he wears clothes that reference him to appeal to her, his girlfriend, but he mixes it with his classic camo bandana because Lucas has a very strong sense of self that was only rocked in s4, when he tries to model after the basketball team, who are also representative of (1980's) socially acceptable masculinity and heteronormativity, for popularity's sake. But he ends up rejecting their blind conformity and regains his sense of self by the middle of the season.

And Mike…..models after Eddie. Eddie “forced conformity is what’s killin’ the kids” Munson. Not just in clothes, but in his more "metal" hairstyle. Eddie even makes a note about Mike’s wardrobe change during the cafeteria scene, saying he’s no longer wearing whatever his mom buys him at the GAP, which highlight this change for the audience.

This is significant because even though Dustin and Lucas are his fellow nerds, even though both Dustin and Lucas end up being chased down by Jason & Friends for their status as members of the Hellfire Club, even though they're labeled as outcasts and reject conformity in their own way –

– they still model themselves after classic heteronormative and socially acceptable representations of masculinity, while Mike is the only one who actively models himself after the school “freak" and vocal non-conformist.

Sure, Dustin wears the Hellfire shirt too, but Dustin is the graphic tee king of the show and he still wears an iconic baseball cap and overlays his graphic tee with a fun and funky button-up in s4. How he dresses in s4 is wholly consistent with his identity throughout the rest of the show. Whereas Mike's first outfit of the show contrasts heavily with all of his outfits from the previous seasons particularly s3.

And this is intentional. This is what Amy Parris, costume designer for Stranger Things says in this GQ interview about it:

Mike's Hellfire Outfit represents his growing internal resistance to and rejection of conformity and societal expectation.

....which is exactly why the airport outfit gives the viewer such insane whiplash.

It is bright, gaudy, dorky, cartoonish and a completely different person than we were just shown. It's no version of Mike we've ever seen. Sure, we've seen him in shorts, and that surfer shirt is technically a button-up, but that hat? Those glasses? Flip-flops? It's so clearly an act that it's laughable.

Amy Parris, in the same GQ interview as before, goes as far to say, "We knew we'd wanted something that felt like an outfit maybe he would've bought at the airport before he got there."

This isn't Mike. This is Mike's attempt at conformity, post-meeting and modeling after Eddie. This is Mike feeling like who he is in Hawkins – the edgier Mike who models after the school "freak" – isn't the "right" version of himself to immediately present to El after months and months apart. Almost like he feels the need to wear something more similar to what he wore in s3, the shorts and the bright colors, to "ease into" the rest of his wardrobe, because when he's with El, he strives to present as "normal."

Finn Wolfhard says this about Mike in s4: "I think Mike's just trying to be as normal as possible and trying to keep on a normal path." Yet Mike says this in s4: "Have you ever considered that we don't want to be popular?"

If Mike isn't trying to be "normal" in Hawkins and is sitting at lunch with the school "freak," then in what ways he is trying to be "normal"? It's when he's with El in California, particularly their first day before everything goes to hell. Yet we see that "normal" = not himself.

Amy Parris notes in the GQ interview that they picked an orange (a rather yellow orange) button-up because it's the opposite of what Mike normally wears (blue tones).

The purple shirt is also an attempt for him to appeal toward El because purple, according to Mike, is one of her favorite colors. He is trying to appeal to El's taste/likes while wearing the literal opposite of what he normally does.

Mike's Airport Outfit represents his attempts to conform to heteronormativity and society's expectation of what a "good straight boyfriend" does, is, and looks like – and how unnatural and unlike himself this attempt is.

This plaid look is my personal favorite Mike look in s5. This is one of the very few times we see Mike with an untucked shirt – possibly the first time we see him wearing a button-up/collared shirt and it's not tucked in. Untucked makes him look less preppy, taller, and more mature. It's a very flattering look and especially refreshing after the airport look.

But, I also have a lot to say about this symbolism of this particular outfit.

The rich blue is a standard Mike color, so it's the first outfit he wears in s4 that feels familiar to us. Additionally, the hint of yellow is commonly speckled throughout Mike's wardrobe. However, look at the pattern. It's plaid.

We all know by now that Mike is the king of stripes. Stripes and the color blue are the most consistent aspect of his wardrobe other than his calculator watch. But plaid?

There are only two instances in the entire show where Mike wears plaid. (I've triple-checked this, but if I still somehow overlooked anything, please let me know!) Here, in s4, and in his final scene in s1:

(top row is unedited, bottom row is brightened – no I couldn't get a flattering screenshot of the second image lol)

A blue plaid with (faint) yellow accents. Hm. How intriguingly familiar!

In s1, we see Mike experiencing conflicting emotions in his final scene. He is very happy that Will is back and that Will is having fun with his DND game. But he is also sad that Eleven is gone and experiencing survivor's guilt. His emotions are split between Will and El. This emotional turmoil is illustrated with the use of much busier pattern than Mike normally wears, but because that pattern is plaid, a pattern Will often wears, it aligns him with Will.

Why does plaid connect Mike to Will yet not El, even though El has worn plaid before? Because El has only worn plaid because of her circumstances, not her own personal style.

El first wears plaid when Hopper gives her his flannel in s1. This continues into s2 when she begins living with him. She's receiving either hand-me-downs from him or boy's clothes because he's having to hide the fact that he's sheltering a girl wanted by the government. If Hop were to start buying girl's clothing/more feminine clothing, that would be suspicious. When El goes on her shopping spree with Max in s3, after Max tells her to focus on what feels like her – "not Hopper, not Mike, you" – she picks bold, bright colors and abstract patterns, completely avoiding plaid. Then, in s4, El is living with the Byers and receiving their hand-me-downs and borrowing from their closets.

Amy Parris confirms this in the GQ interview, that what El wears in s2 is meant to feel mismatched, borrowed, and hand-me-down because she is trying to figure out who she is in Lenora.

She also says this:

It was intentional that when El wore plaid in s4, it was meant to remind the audience of Will and look as though she was wearing his clothes.

Which means Plaid = Will, not El.

So let's put this all together: Mike has worn plaid once before, when he was experiencing conflicting emotions torn between Will and El. Plaid is Will's pattern, not El's. Blue is Mike's color, and it's commonly known that yellow is Will's, which means that not only is Mike wearing Will's pattern, he's wearing a hint of Will's color. On a more minor note, the return of the black jeans and converse from his Hawkins/Hellfire outfit means that the facade had dropped and he's slipping back into what he's more comfortable in.

It's also notable that Mike wears a blue plaid shirt the very next day after Will wears a blue plaid shirt. (Also, Will's blue plaid shirt has more white, which suits his wardrobe more than black, whereas Mike's blue plaid shirt has more black, which suits Mike's.)

And this is the shirt Mike wears during his fight with Eleven, where she calls him out on never saying, "I love you," accuses him of thinking she's a monster, and he calls her ridiculous and tries to place the burden of their relationship issues on other people ("You can't let those mouthbreathers ruin you! Ruin us!")

Visually, the plaid tells us what's going on in Mike's head and heart.

Mike's Plaid Outfit represents his internal conflict between Will and El while simultaneously betraying where his true feelings lie: with Will.

Last outfit! The outfit he spends nearly a full week wearing, the teal outfit.

Right off the bat, this color is one we've seen him wearing before in s3. However, as @hawkinsschoolcounselor points out in this brilliant post, the teal polo he wears in s3 looks nearly identical to one his father wears in the same season.

This has a few nuanced implications.

Firstly, in s3, it carries the visual implication that s3 Mike is currently on a path that could cause him to turn out like Ted. What does s3 Mike do? He neglects his friendships to spend time making out with his girlfriend, tries to reject his childhood hobbies and passions as childish (Ted disdainfully calls toys "hunks of plastic," in s2) and something he needs to grow out of, and, like Ted, makes a comment that could be interpreted as a homophobic slight – ("It's not my fault you don't like girls!" – a comment that I believe is a moment of projection for Mike due to internalized homophobia, not legitimate homophobia toward Will. In s3, Mike is trying to be "normal," "grown-up," socially acceptable and heteronormative.

Remember how I talked about modeling earlier? Yeah, s3 Mike models after Ted in mild aspects.

Yet the very next season, it's revealed that his rejection of his hobbies, passions, and games like DND was a complete farce. He returns to wholly embracing DND and, other than this teal color, stops dressing like Ted. He stops modeling after his father, much to Ted's disappointment: "Might as well call [Hellfire] the high school dropout club."

Secondly, because this teal color ties Mike to Ted, it's notable that this is the color that Mike wears when he tells Eleven he loves her.

(Now if you've read this far, my guess is you're a Byler fan and you've read 50 million analyses of the I love you speech, but if you haven't, the gist of the conclusion of those analyses is this: Mike felt pressured to say he loved El in order to save her and because he believed she commissioned the painting, but he tells provable lies during it that will be dismantled in s5.)

If teal is a color Mike wore during a season where he's modeling after Ted, a husband who the show makes very clear is lacking in passion to the point of his wife feeling unsatsified, a father emotionally distant from his two eldest children, and a man who is the epitome of heteronormativity and the typical mundane nuclear family man – this does not bode well for the success of Mike's romantic relationship with El, nor does it frame his romantic relationship with El in a healthy light.

Thirdly, there are several key differences between s4's teal shirt and s3's teal shirt.

Mike's s3 teal shirt is buttoned-up to the top button (in most of his scenes wearing this shirt) and is tucked into higher-waisted black shorts. It's solid-colored, neat, and preppy, and gives two hilariously contrasting impressions: the outfit of a little boy, and the outfit of a tween trying to dress like an adult.

In s4, however, Mike's outfit is partially unbuttoned, revealing a white tshirt beneath, with gives it a more sporty or even outdoorsy vibe. It's also not a solid color and has angular grey accents – particularly, triangular and diamond shaped accents.

This is what Amy Parris has to say about those grey accents, + what she says about how they purposefully added triangles to Robin's outfit as LGBTQ+ symbolism:

Because of this, it is not a stretch to speculate that the angular accents and, in particular, triangle design on Mike's breast pocket is a nod to his queercoding.

It's no coincidence that this is the shirt Mike wears during his bedroom talks with Will, the van scene with Will, his interrupted pizza parlor talk with El (that reads more like an impending apology and amicable breakup, not a confession – just mute the music look at his face during that scene, and El's), and his speech to El.

Most notably, it's the shirt he's wearing during this moment:

Look at Mike's face. Look at how conflicted he is. How guilty. This is the first time since Mike put on this teal shirt, the first time since he had his two separate bedroom talks with Will, the first time since "as a team," and "best friends," and the van scene & painting, that Mike has to deal with Will and Eleven at the same time.

Mike's Teal Outfit represents the tug-of-war between two contrasting concepts: his internal struggle with practicing comphet and heteronormativity (pursuing a romantic relationship with El and pretending to be straight), and his growing internal resistance to comphet/hetnorm and desire to embrace a truer, more alternative/noncomforming identity (his true romantic feelings for Will and accepting his queer identity).

Conclusion

I could honestly continue this post with analysis of the s5 outfits we've seen from Mike and what that means for his characterization/arc in the final season, but this post is long enough already. Perhaps when we get more content/trailers for s5, I might put out a speculative post in anticipation for it.

If you have a different perspective and want to share it, feel absolutely free! I'd love to hear other people's thoughts.

#byler analysis #byler #mike wheeler #mike wheeler analysis #stranger things #stranger things analysis #please let this show up in the tags i swear if it doesn't!!!#long post #i should figure out how many words this is

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apuckishwit · 2 years ago

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Making Room

Steve never gets into DnD.

Not even after Eddie convinces him to join a one-shot over one Christmas when the kids are all back from college and jobs and far-flung adventures. He's not a jerk about it or anything. He sits and makes a character with his boyfriend and he does his best with the role-playing and he only asks Dustin for help with the dice seven or eight times (and everyone had promised to give him an even dozen before they gave him shit about it, so it was fine). It's fine. He's not mad that he spent the time doing it with Eddie and the kids (some of them taller than him now, in spitting distance of college degrees and first apartments and jobs and spouses and lives, but they'll always be kids to him).

But afterwards he kisses Eddie and says it really and truly isn't for him, sorry babe.

And that's okay.

When he and Robin are scavenging through yet another thrift store for furniture and dishes and lamps for the apartment she and Nancy are getting in Indianapolis (he's so sad that her room in the little house he shares with Eddie is going back to being a guest room, but he's so damn happy that she and Nance have stopped dancing around each other...and they're only moving about half an hour away, he'll still see her all the time), and he spots an impractically long desk/table, onviously custom-built, with an absurd number of drawers and compartments built into it, he buys it immediately. He wrestles it into Eddie's van that they borrowed for the day, and smiles apologetically when Robin has to hold like three boxes on her lap. He gets it into their dining room while Eddie's at work, graciously gifting their own table to Robin and Nancy, and it's worth all the hassle (and the fact that one end of the table pokes about a foot into the living room space) when Eddie comes home to something big enough for even his most complicated campaign maps and with plenty of storage for all his dice and miniatures and source books.

And sturdy enough for Eddie's most...enthusiastic...thanks, they find out that night.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But every time Hellfire (whatever incarnation of Hellfire it is, be it the Hawkins crew or some of the guys from the little record shop Eddie works at in town, or some combination) meets up for a game, they get used to Eddie yelling, "Stevie! Evens or odds?" everytime a situation calls for a luck die. They learn that complimenting the snacks Steve sets out will sometimes get them advantage on a roll. They watch Eddie snag Steve's wrist as he passes in or out of the dining room and get him to roll a D20 for various and random reasons. Steve always obliges, before drifting back to the couch with a beer or a slice of pizza and whatever basketball or baseball game is on.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But sometimes Eddie spreads newspapers over the Campaign Table (TM) and sets pots of paint and rows of miniatures out, and he and Steve sit together for a few hours, Steve slapping on the basecoats with a single pot of white, gray, or black and Eddie going to town on the details while they chat about their day, playing footsie under the table or stealing kisses while they wait for something to dry.

"Babe! I need a name for the friendly barkeep who knows more than he seems!"

"Carl."

"He's a half-orc!"

"Those are the big green guys, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Hmmm. Big Carl."

"Perfect!"

Steve never gets into DnD. But he loves Eddie, and he loves how into DnD Eddie is. So he makes room in his life for this thing that Eddie loves.

***

Eddie never gets into sports.

Like, objectively he understands that some people enjoy running around getting all sweaty, trying to keep some kind of ball away from other people and make it go into some kind of receptacle. And he certainly appreciates the view of some of those people in tight little shorts.

Particularly Steve.

Like honestly? If it wouldn't get him labeled a total creep (and they weren't so careful about giving anyone a reason to question the assumption that they're just two young friends living together to save money until they find respectable women to marry)...he'd park his van out by the little middle school where Steve teaches gym and coaches basketball and baseball every day during his lunch break, just to watch his boyfriend run the mile with his students in those shorts that hug the muscles of his thighs just right.

But he doesn't like sports apart from the strictly prurient interest he has in watching Steve wear sports-appropriate clothes.

He tries. He wants to know just what it is that keeps Steve glued to the TV when his favorite teams are playing, wants to understand why Steve yells and groans and jumps up with wild cheers, spilling popcorn all over the living room floor. He just...doesn't get it. Steve tries to explain March Madness to him one year and it makes no more sense than when Wayne tried to when Eddie was a kid. Eventually he just shrugs, kisses Steve's nose, and goes back to petting through his boyfriend's hair with a, sorry, baby, it's not for me.

And that's okay.

He gets up early the week Steve is overseeing baseball tryouts, to make sure his boyfriend has a travel mug of coffee fixed just the way he likes it, and a good breakfast waiting for him when he gets out of the shower. Steve is unquestionably the cook in their relationship, but Young Eddie ate a lot of breakfast for dinner over the years and Adult Eddie makes damn good pancakes, omelettes, and French toast.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he gets Lucas to break down exactly what kind of notes and stats Steve will be keeping track of and draws up a template "character sheet" for baseball players, spending an hour at the local library laboriously making copies with their cantankerous mimeograph machine.

He sure as shit never gets up at the crack of dawn to go running around the neighborhood the way Steve does...but on days when it starts raining or snowing halfway through Steve's run, he'll drag himself out of bed and throw some towels in the dryer, so they're nice and warm when Steve comes back inside.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he takes every overtime shift he can for a month, so he can take Steve to Chicago for his twenty-fifth birthday to see the Bulls play. The seats aren't great or anything, and it's noisy as fuck, crowded as fuck, and he has no idea why his boyfriend is losing his mind every time that Jordan guy so much as touches the ball...but Steve's eyes are sparkling, the color is high in his cheeks, and when they get back to their hotel that night, they've barely closed the door before Steve is shoving him against it, devouring his mouth.

"Hey Eds, Ohio State or Georgia Tech?"

"For what?"

"I'm doing my brackets for the pool I've got with Hopper and Lucas!"

"Um, whoever's in red!"

"Ohio State it is, thanks babe!"

Eddie never gets into sports. But that's okay. He loves Steve, and he loves how happy Steve is when he's playing, or coaching, or running (God help him, he fell in love with someone who gets up at six am to run. Without anything chasing him.) So he makes room in his life for this thing that Steve loves.

Because certainly, love grows in shared passions and matching interests. But it also flourishes in the carefully tended space you make just for the things that make your person happy...even if it's just not for you.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my wriitng #I dunno i was just feeling soft

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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

Text

little black dress

10k / pairing: bartender!joel x f!reader

← masterlist

summary: You’re breaking things off with your douchebag situationship at one of your favorite little dive bars because lord knows you’re gonna need a drink or two. The bartender, Joel, is happy to offer his assistance.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst, toxic ex-boyfriend putting hands on you, dom!Joel, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), titty attention, unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), I think that’s it!

A/N: I’ve held this in my vault for WEEKS. Thank you to @strang3lov3 and @macfrog for helping get this piece to completion! I quite literally couldn’t have done it without them and without their input and encouragement. Also -- this is my first 10k fic! how exciting!!

here's my masterlist!

**follow hellishfics and turn on notifications get updates on my fic postings**

Your breaths grow heavy with impatience, waiting to feel him. Him soaking up your slick wasn’t enough. He finally got the hint as your hips rutted back into this touch, hearing his hellish low chuckle at your desperation. “So-” your breath hitches as you feel his tip nudge in, “fuckin-” you clench your eyes closed as his first few inches break you in two, your jaw dropping, “tight.” He bottoms out in one swift thrust, filling you up to a level you didn’t even know you possessed. “Joel!” A broken cry unleashes from the depths of your throat, you didn’t need to see him to know how big he is. You can fucking feel every single inch of him.

You had never gotten dressed up for a breakup before.

As you looked yourself over in the mirror, you were reminded of what you discussed with your friends last night.

You felt a little on edge when you revealed to your friends over a girl’s night that you wanted to break up with your short-term boyfriend Chris. The relationship was only a couple of months old, but the guy was a douchebag. And you realized it too late.

“He was such a waste of your time.”

“Oh my god, he was an asshole to you.”

“Girl, I hope you do a revenge breakup on his sorry ass.”

“A revenge breakup?”

Ahh, yes. The revenge breakup. For wasting your time, efforts, and emotions on Chris, you deserved to have a little fun in the form of revenge. You’d put on your favorite little black dress, do your hair and your makeup, wear a red lip, and show him that you don’t need him.

But now as you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, you felt like you were playing dress up. You weren’t really this confident, this bold. But your pouty red lips said otherwise. Your favorite perfume said otherwise, as well. After a slow turn in the mirror, long legs on show with a short black dress adorning your curves, you decided you would be a man-eater tonight.

You would have preferred to break up with him over text, but you decided you were together for a little too long not to break things off in person.

Despite what you looked like on the outside, your heart was a tangled mess of emotions.

When you first met Chris at one of the fancy bar lounges on the east side, he was the standout of his friends. Tall, blessed with dark blonde hair, perfectly clean-shaven, still dressed in a work suit to join in on the Friday night happy hour. You quickly learned a lot about him. He had an apartment in the city, but his permanent residence was in the neighboring state. He liked golf, basketball, and football. He was a family guy, close with his parents. After buying you a drink, he told you he worked at a finance agency, a large one at that.

The professionalism in itself made you swoon. You couldn’t help it, he seemed put together and men who had a plan were attractive to you.

Needless to say, you went home with him after he was whispering in your ear all night long, his large hand planted possessively on your hip, derailing any other guy in the room who thought about trying a conversation with you.

It could have stopped there, should have stopped there. But he was smart, and his face wore a permanent smirk that put you in a destructive tailspin. So you kept seeing each other. He took you out on lunch dates, got you into the trendy clubs, and put the two of you up in hotel suites from time to time for a nice weekend away.

It was fun while it lasted. His charm eventually wore off, and you realized he was just… a completely selfish douchebag.

You were ready to break things off.

And so it was decided. You looked hot. Too good for him. Your roommate insisted that she could come with you for moral support dressed as a casual bargoer, watching the show for herself behind a bar menu. The idea made you bubble up a laugh, but you really wanted to do this yourself, for yourself.

Your stomach was in knots the entire Uber ride over, leg crossed over the other as you drew shapes into the material of your clutch. You wanted to arrive a little earlier than the set time with your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend-fling, needing a drink or two of encouragement.

The Blackbird was a corner bar that had survived the rapid changes of downtown for the past ten years, or so. Initially around when there was a small gas station on the opposite corner, now it was neighboring a family diner and a video rental shop.

As soon as you enter down the cement stairs and through the dark green door, you’re greeted by a stage to your right where local bands came in and played. After walking past the pool tables that desperately needed new felt, you pass an old golden jukebox that was playing 80s dad rock. It fit the atmosphere, you had to admit. Some Guns N’ Roses started to play after just finishing a Twisted Sister song.

Maybe it was the fact that you were entering into a small dive bar, easily becoming the best-looking person there by a mile and a half, but it was the confidence you needed.

Eyes were on you, a small smile fluttering on your lips at the discovery.

Cigarette smoke filled the air, your heels clicking casually against the hardwood floor as you used the space as an off-duty catwalk. Pool balls clattered, matching the fast-paced beating of your heart.

The Blackbird Bar offered little lighting, aside from the bulbs that hung above the pool tables and a few old neon signs. The walls were decorated in well-loved decor like old license plates and tacky bar signs. There was a $1 bill hung up in a frame, most likely the first bill the bar had ever made. It's a crowning little achievement in all of its dust-covered glory.

The bar stools could use new upholstery and a fresh coat of paint might do the wall wonders, but people didn’t come here to enjoy upscale aesthetic and fruity drinks. They came for cheap booze and company from the regulars.

An empty string of barstools waited for your company at the end of the long bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness the bar was veiled in.

Your fingernail traced over the slight scratches on the bar’s surface, someone clearing their throat knocking you loose from your thoughts.

“What’ll y’ have?”

Your head was so clouded with what you might say during your impending breakup that you didn’t think of what you wanted to drink. You could really use some liquid courage.

“Uhm..” You paused as you looked over the bartender, your eyes adjusting as you watched him clean a glass with a rag before he tossed the cloth over his shoulder.

He was older, a little shaggy looking. He wore a tattered dark green henley with a waffle print, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You ordered your go-to drink, slowly swirling your straw around the ice as you anxiously watched the clock tick closer and closer to your planned time.

“Hey beautiful.” Shit, he was early.

Your eyes widened as you quickly set down your drink, signaling to the scruffy bartender and tapping at your glass to request another.

Chris entered your space with a charming smile, his pungent cologne instantly piercing your senses as your eyes gazed over his square jawline.

“Hey.” You teetered on your seat, adjusting the hem of your dress, feeling that it was all of a sudden far too short for the evening. Like it was shrinking up your body.

Chris quickly picked up on your not-so-warm greeting, his head cocking as he set down his jacket on the bartop.

“Interesting pick for the bar. I could’ve taken you somewhere uptown.”

The comment made your gut clench, especially since the bartender was right in front of the two of you, making your drink as he silently listened to every word.

“I actually really like this spot. Feels less pretentious than uptown.” You bit back, maybe a little too much venom in your comment.

Chris playfully threw up his hands in surrender, smirking down at you as he took in your appearance. Slightly smeared red lipstick and an all too tight black little dress.

“Alright, uptown is pretentious now, I’m glad you updated me.” His comment was snide but laced with a hint of teasing, your hand instantly reaching for your drink once it was crafted by the bartender. You mutter an apologetic thank you.

“Hey,” Chris spoke up as he raised two fingers to flag down the bartender. “Can I get-”

Before he could finish, the bartender had walked off further down the bar lane, grumbling under his breath as he went to fulfill another customer’s order. Chris scoffed and tried to brush it off but it made you smile. Well deserved.

Once Chris finally did receive his drink, a corona with a lime, he started to tell you about his week in the office. Unprovoked.

Apparently his coworker was brutally fired, his department was on their third secretary within the year thus far, and he was up to his ears with his end-of-the-month reports.

You weren’t sure what drink number you were on. The bartender kept giving you glances every time he poured your glass back up, his eyes signaling to Chris as he kept speaking over you. He looked just as annoyed as you felt.

“And Chambers is just.. all up my ass about finishing it ahead of schedule but I keep telling him, y’know, Dude, it’s not due until Monday. Get off my ass about it. Right? Right?” Now he was laughing like his life, and his story was really all that interesting. Like everyone was hanging onto every word he ever said with enthusiasm.

He kept wagging his beer around in his hand as he spoke, using mannerisms to go with his exquisite storytelling.

You muster up a noise to give him some sort of implication that you were interested. However, the more you drank, the more you realized how uninteresting he actually was. Who talks at someone like this for 45 minutes? When did he ask you a question about you? Did he know shit about you?

“Hey,” your voice sounded power drenched which quickly captured his attention. His eyebrows raised as if you were interrupting his train of thought.

“Do you remember what I told you I studied in school?” Your head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed on his. Despite the volume in the bar, you could still feel your heart thumping in your ears.

He tried not to look phased by your question. After a pause on his end, he mustered up an awkward chuckle before clearing his throat, shifting back and forth on his feet.

“How long have I lived in the city?”

You watched as his eyes flicked off to the side, his lips parting as if he was hoping the right answer would just come to him.

“Uhm..”

“Uhm?” You mocked, a nasty smirk on your lips. It was taunting.

The more he couldn’t answer your questions, the angrier you got. You mocking him seemed to get his blood boiling.

“What do I do for work? What are my hobbies?” Your red lipstick kissed the straw as you took another sip while you waited, crossing your leg over the other as your foot casually bounced while you watched him squirm.

You continued to roll out question after question. You enjoyed watching him writhe under your scrutiny, finding out that he didn’t fucking know you at all.

Someone you considered to be so put together, so refined, and so charming was really just a douchebag clown masquerading in a suit.

The grip on your drink tightened, and you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or the anger you bore, but something gave you the nerve to throw the remnants of your drink on him.

The liquor splashed across his white button-up shirt first, your half-melted ice cubes followed by pelting his chest.

Satisfaction and surprise filled your gut, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you tried to hide a laugh. The crowd of regulars watched from a distance, a few gasping while a few others snickered.

He looked furious.

“You fucking-- bitch! What the hell!” He was still shaking off ice cubes, pieces of his blonde hair falling down and presenting him as disheveled.

“If that wasn’t answer enough for you, I don’t want to see you again. We’ve been on countless dates, and you don’t remember a damn thing about me.”

You didn’t care that people were watching, you were putting on quite the show for them in your little revenge dress.

Chris scoffed at you in disbelief, shaking off the liquid that clearly stained through his shirt. You could feel your chest swell with a sense of pride and courage. Your body felt warm, stained with confidence as red as your lipstick.

“You’re fuckin’ sick, you know that? You’re a fuckin’ psycho!” He was nearly laughing at you, the insults scraped at your throat and made your confidence cut down an inch.

“Just-- get the fuck out of here, I don’t want to see you again.”

Suddenly, something you weren’t expecting was his hand tightening around your forearm. It stung, his iron grip burning into your flesh so hard that your fingertips already felt numb from the lack of circulation.

You let out a whimper of discomfort, your big eyes looking between his talons pressed into you then back up to his twisted face.

He yanked you into him, your heels scraping the bottom of the floor-- or maybe that was the screech of his barstool he pushed out of his way on the hardwood.

“You really think you’re all that interesting?” His eyes were narrowed in on yours. “You were just an pair of open legs.” He muttered in disgust.

Your eyes hardened, jaw tightening shut as both anger and sadness twisted inside of you until it created a damaging tornado. You couldn’t believe you saw interest in him or anything at all.

“Hey-” A voice so low and booming broke you out of your thoughts, both of your heads snapping to the bartender who was staring daggers into Chris.

“You don’t touch a lady like that in my fuckin’ bar. Get the hell outta here.” His voice relaxed in volume, his scary stature and piercing eyes were enough to thrust a splinter of fear into Chris. But of course, being the cock that he was, he wouldn’t let it seem like the bartender phased him.

“This doesn’t concern you, man. Best if you just drop it-”

“Or what?” The bartender’s words cut quick as his head cocked up, eyes narrowed on Chris’s. Challenging him. Goading him to fight back. The bartender even stepped closer to the bar’s edge, making Chris step back a foot or two despite the bar being a direct barrier to the two. Chris’ hold didn’t slack, it became stronger. Your nails started to try and pry away his hand from you, but his grip was solid.

You looked to the bartender, a silent plea for his help behind your eyes as you were still lightly fighting against the grip Chris had on you. The anger Chris felt towards the man reflected in his hand around your forearm, a short cry coming from your lips as his fingertips bruised into your delicate skin.

“What did I just fuckin’ say?” The bartender was rounding the bar towards the two of you, Chris quickly dropping his hold on you as the man neared closer. This idiot had never been in a fight before in his life, and he surely wasn’t going to start with the tall, broad bartender who probably beat up drunk assholes every other night.

You were so hypnotized by their interaction, the feeling of the bartender’s hand gently on your back before he became a barricade in front of you. His broad arms crossed in front of his chest and he was still looking for a fight out of Chris.

He looked scary, but in a more protective way now. Now that he was so much closer, you had a better look at him.

His flesh was seared with the signs of life, soft lines on his forehead and by his eyes-- probably from the permanent scowl he wore like how people put on their glasses every day or a watch around their wrist. He had a speckled beard, but a prominent mustache on his upper lip, both the hair on his head and his facial hair wore a brief streaks of silver.

His nose was aquiline, it fit him perfectly. He was long in the torso, broad in the shoulders, and drawn in at the waist. The henley shirt he wore looked like it could barely fit around his biceps, the material stretching to accommodate. He was handsome for a stranger you had paid little attention to all evening.

“You alright?” You could tell he was talking to you without looking, his voice more serene.

“Yeah.” Your voice sounded shakier than you wanted it to, the whole interaction being a shock to your system. Your hand delicately stroke over where he held you, the ghost of his grip still aching on your skin as small bruises were sure to form later.

The bartender’s attention was back on Chris after being assured you were alright.

“You heard her. Get the hell out of here.” The bartender’s head cocked behind Chris and to the door. Once the bartender got involved with your fight, you could feel the presence of the tough pool table guys pause their game to make sure the situation was handled.

Outnumbered, Chris scoffed before he yanked his ice-covered jacket from the bartop, his eyes on you as he shook his head, his nostrils flaring. “Keep her. She’s not worth the fuckin’ trouble.”

The bartender had enough of Chris thinking he was in charge of the situation. He planted his hands at the top of Chris’ chest, giving him a harsh shove that had him staggering backward, still trying to maintain his balance as he was shoved out the door repeatedly.

“I don’t usually ask twice, consider yourself lucky.” The bartender’s words were cut with steel. He looked so calm and unbothered like he picked fights with random guys every other night and it was no big deal.

The crowd of regulars at the bar cheered him on until Chris was swiftly shoved out the door and you could hear his body scuff against the cement steps outside.

You finally felt a flood of relief course through your body, the adrenaline had come and gone, but the racing of your heart hadn’t subsided.

You let out a hot puff of air as you brought the scattered barstools back to their home under the bar, seeing a pair of hands help you align the last one. It was the bartender, and he was watching you with eagle eyes.

“I’m sorry-” you quickly blurt, shaking your head and pressing your hand to the side of your neck to find some sort of relief. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene or put you in a situation-”

“You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” He was quick to cut in and assure you, your bunched-up shoulders slowly relaxing as he resumed his spot behind the bar.

You sort of wanted to leave. You hated the unwanted attention your hot-headedness created. Even though he was the asshole, you still felt like it was your fault.

“Sit down.” His voice demanded, your eyes softening as your head whipped back up to look at him.

“I’ll remake your drink, just… sit down.” You shifted on your uncomfortable heels before giving in and satisfying him with a little nod, returning to your barstool as he came by and made you another drink.

“Can you-” your voice perked up and tapped at your glass gently. He paused his motions as he looked down at you. “Can you make this drink as responsibly strong as you can?”

His lips tightened, trying to hide a smile poking out from the corner of his mouth.

“Sure, Trouble.” You watched as he tipped the alcohol in, letting it fill up with the ice before he added only a good splash of mixer. Thank god.

The breakup with Chris was warranted, but it was hard thinking about having to start all over with someone new. Hopefully with someone better. You weren’t one to drink by yourself like this, but the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat felt better than the ache you felt festering in your chest.

As the night went on, the bartender didn’t seem keen on being more than a few feet away from you. He’d fulfill a patron’s order on the other end but always end up back by you, meandering himself to keep busy. You had watched him clean one beer mug three separate times now. Sometimes you made eye contact, only for a fleeting second before he looked away.

He kept asking if you were alright. Yeah, I’m alright. If he could do anything. You’ve already done more than enough. Thank you. Finally, he broke.

“So… you wanna tell me who that guy was?” He asked, topping off your drink as you sighed and swirled your straw around.

“He was... I don’t know. A boyfriend, I guess.” You waved around your drink as you spoke, your eyes meandering around the bar.

“Whatever we had, it didn’t last long.” You tutted up a short laugh at your little joke. You took in a deep breath through your nose, your shoulders rising before they dropped on the exhale.

The bartender shook his head, almost looking inquisitive.

“Why d’ya laugh?” He asked curiously, his arms spread as he planted his palms into the bar for balance as he kicked back one of his boots to rest behind the other. He was so broad and handsome.

“Oh,” you paused and covered your face for a moment in embarrassment that he called you out on it. “I said it didn’t last long, the relationship, but like.. Y’know.” You trailed off and shyly smiled, setting your hands back in your lap as you caught his eye contact, however, now he was holding it with you.

“What?” He pressed further. But he knew what. He just wanted you to say it.

You let out a short nervous bubble of laughter, shaking your head. Oh, fuck it. The alcohol was helping you relax, and frankly, you wanted to laugh at Chris. You didn’t owe him anything.

“He didn’t last long. The relationship didn’t last long, and he didn’t last long. Y’know. In bed.” You felt the need to over-clarify now, taking another sip from your drink, your eyes clenching closed slightly as the strong alcohol made your face tense.

The bartender’s mouth chipped up into a crooked smirk, shaking his head as he looked over you for a moment. You remembered what you were wearing, your little black dress doing wonders for your cleavage resting just above his bar.

“‘S’a damn shame.” He finally said, shaking his head as he threw a white cloth up onto his shoulder, his attention fully on you now as the bar had begun to die down throughout the night. All that was left was a set of people playing pool and one cigarette smoker on the other end of the bar, his eyes tiredly captured by the random game show on the television.

“What is?” You ask curiously, your straw slurping ice now as you sighed and pushed the glass away, shaking your head at him to signal you were done for the night.

He paused before answering you, taking your glass from the bartop and throwing down the ice into a tray then the glass into soapy water. He shook his head and shrugged as he wiped his hands.

“Jackass twenty-somethings not knowin’ how to make their pretty girlfriends finish. Damn shame.”

Your lips parted, your doe eyes on his whiskey-colored ones. Your stomach twisted, a tug between your legs so strong it felt like you were battling an internal fire.

Finally, you just laughed. It was out of shyness and shock, but it was a laugh.

“Is that so?”

“So it is.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

He didn’t let you go another second without it. “Joel.”

Your head cocked to the side, your confidence bubbling up as you sighed quietly. “Joel.” You repeated back to him, the two of you slowly nodding to one another. Now you were the only thing his eyes would look at. You sort of wished he would look somewhere else, to let you fucking breathe.

But he pinned you right there in your barstool with his gaze, in his bar. It was crazy to think something fruitful might actually come from the train wreck that was tonight.

Maybe put together looked something more like Joel. Someone a little older, experienced. No wedding ring, a barely-there smile that seemed to only come out on special occasions. He amused you, even if it was just for tonight.

“So, Joel,” your hand reached out, pointer finger gently grazing over the top side of his hand that was planted in front of you. His skin was warm, your nail grazing the soft hairs by his wrist, and the band of the watch he wore. “What are you trying to say?”

His expression didn’t break, if anything, there were minute details you noticed. His jaw clicked tighter like there was someone slowly turning a tight wheel that controlled it behind the scenes. His shoulders bunched a bit more at his upper back, his body tall and looming and strong. But his eyes stayed on yours, consistent, dark, and beautiful.

“I can show you better than I can tell you.” His words were laced with a promise you were begging him to fulfill. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last with this nagging feeling between your legs begging for relief.

Your intimate conversation was cut short with the final clatter of a pool ball, the black 8 ball sinking into a pocket.

You finally let out a breath, one you didn’t know you were holding in. You glanced to the side, away from Joel’s protective gaze as you watched the men hang up their pool cues on the wall mount, grabbing their leather jackets as they came to set their empty beer bottles on the bar top and thanking Joel before they exited.

His hand came up in a subtle wave, not even shaking his hand back and forth, just throwing his hand out there to say a silent farewell.

Your breath quickened at the thought of him alone in the bar with you. If it wasn’t for the chain smoker dulling both of your fantasies.

Joel caught your wandering eyes, following them down the lane to the final patron.

“Paul, do you know how late it is?” Your eyes fell to Joel’s fingers as he covered the clock behind the counter methodically.

The smoker, who you learned was Paul, finally pulled the cigarette away from his dry and cracked mouth, glancing around to see how empty the bar had become. Besides you and Joel.

“Your wife is probably waitin’ for you at home. Best if you start headin’ out.” Joel said as his head tilted to the door next to him, the man nodding with wide eyes.

“Oh, she is gonna kill me. That woman,” he mumbled something else you couldn’t quite hear from your end of the bar, smiling as Joel snuck a glance at you as he ushered Paul out. He’d stay here all night if Joel didn’t tell him to head on home.

Your nerve finally made your long legs move, heels landing on the hardwood as you slowly walked the length of the bar, your fingers dancing along the top. You felt a few chips and divots in the wood, years of wear and tear exposing itself to you.

Joel flicked the lock on the door and flipped the sign. Sorry, we’re closed!

The action in itself made you feel spoiled. He wanted you to himself for the rest of the night, he didn’t want anyone interrupting. Goosebumps flooded your skin as you leaned back against one of the pool tables, the light above you making you have an angelic silhouette.

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the jukebox, the only thing eliciting noise in the otherwise silent bar. With a push of a button, the music halted.

“What? No music?” You asked. Your voice had a slight echo now.

His heavy footsteps loomed closer, his eyes on yours and never straying.

“Rather hear you.”

Well, there went any remaining ounce of respect you had for yourself.

You initiated the first contact, needy at this point. Needy for someone to take care of you just for tonight. Joel was more than willing to take on that role. A means to an end.

Your soft hands landed on his exposed forearms, moving upwards until they hit the rolled-up sleeves of his dark green henley. You had to force yourself to breathe when you felt over his biceps, your warm palms coming to rest on his broad chest.

“I could have handled it you know. Before you intervened.” Your words elicited a slight grumble from the man in front of you. From Joel.

“I’m thankful, but… I had it under control.” Your fingers continued to dance over his upper half.

He let out a gruff and shook his head. “Not from where I was standin’, Trouble.” His voice was curved with cockiness. This was the first time you really took hold of his southern accent. It came out when his voice was lust drenched.

He challenges you, and your attitude matches his stubbornness.

Joel’s hips are against yours now, you can feel his jeans against your thighs that your dress doesn’t quite reach. His hands are a warm welcome on your hips. They’re gentle on you in the same way they’re possessive, eager to have you but wanting to approach you with a sense of tenderness.

“I had it.” You were persistent. Your arms moved to wrap up around his neck, intertwining your hands and feeling the soft curls on the back of his head.

“Sure.”

The distance was closing between the two of you now, his body moving with a flirtatious sense of stealth.

He watched you with a stoic face. He seemed so unphased. Your touch alone was often enough to have gentlemen attempting to take you home. You were methodical in that sense. But maybe so was Joel.

He was a total stranger, but knew little things about him. Stiff, silent, impossible to read, a human shield, a protector. He would have knocked Chris out with a single swift swing of his heavy fist if he didn’t let you go, you knew he would have. Because he was watching you both all night like he had a gut feeling.

Joel’s tundra-cold voice broke you out of your thoughts for the third time tonight, his large hand coming up and pushing a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear before he cradled your cheek. His actions were soft, his words were filth.

“You got a real mouth on you, y’know that?” His eyebrows were furrowed, the indents on his forehead and eyebrows exposing themselves.

A proud smirk danced on your lips, your arms tugging Joel in closer. He could choose to stay still, he’s strong enough to resist your tug. But he lets you. Because he wants to.

“So I’ve been told.”

You can feel a breath leave through his nose, a sigh of contemplation. Teetering on the idea of falling down into the unknown with you.

Your breath hitches in your throat as his hands tighten on your hips, hoisting you up to sit on the pool table’s edge. The position makes your dress roll up your thighs, a broken gasp leaving your mouth as he finally fills the void between the two of you with a heavy kiss.

It’s tongue and teeth at first, meshed and mangled as you both searched for dominance. His tongue danced with your own before you were tugging on his lower lip. You swallowed Joel’s low grunt, his hands falling to the outside of your thighs with his thumbs pressing into your skin.

Fuck, he was spreading you further. The dress rolled to the very top of your legs, his body sliding through the opening as his warm body consumed you. He tasted like mint. He was probably tasting the alcohol he was pouring you all night.

You fisted his hair at the nape of his neck to hold onto some sort of control, but he was persistent.

Joel was invading your senses on all fronts until finally, you had to wave your white flag.

“Joel,” Your voice came out in a desperate breath on his lips, his head quickly nodding as if he already knew what you needed before you had to ask.

“Lie down, baby, lemme take care a’you.” He kissed you once more before pulling away, his head nodding up once, instructing you to lay back.

You felt bashful as your shoulder blades hit the pool table, still spread perfectly for him.

His expert hands pushed the dress up your hips, lifting your ass off the edge to let the material pool around your stomach.

His warm and possessive hands claimed the lower half of your body. He bent down to take you in, pouted lips kissing your naval while his heavy eyes studied your reactions.

A breath was caught in your throat as you felt his hands on the inside of your thighs, brushing over the front of the red panties you wore. He was thinking the same thing you were, you could see it the way he dropped a small grin. Same color as your lipstick, pretty girl.

“Fuck,” you whispered, using the strength you had left and sitting up on your elbows. You were too turned on not to watch him work.

Your fingers wound into the salt and pepper curls atop his head, biting down on your lower lip as his fingers continued to ghost over cotton.

His thumb began to teasingly stroke over you, brushing over your covered clit and sending electricity through his touch to your core.

Joel hooked his thumbs into the sides of your underwear, bringing up your legs to take them off with ease. You scoot closer to the edge of the table, scoot closer to him.

“What?” You ask, his bemused grin now eliciting one from you too. “Think I’m desperate?” You ask, a little on edge for his answer.

A man of suspense, you watch as Joel shrugs off the question.

You watched as his eyes came down to admire what was previously concealed, your lips parting as he let out a hum in reaction to seeing your soaked core. All because of him, all for him.

Sinking down on his knees before the pool table, your hips rutted forward a few more inches to close the distance. His toying with you was aggravating.

Joel hooked one of your legs over his wide-set shoulder, his large hand coming up to pry the other one up and open. One of your heels nearly sunk into one of the pool table pockets. You whimpered out as you eventually kicked them both off, hearing one pair clatter to the floor on the left of Joel, then the other on the right.

His lips were on you like a magnet, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed. Your gut was tight, feeling it create its own knots as Joel licked an exploratory stripe up your glossy slit with his tongue. You gasped at the estranged feeling.

“Fuck,” he moaned out, a short yelp leaving you as the vibrations were shot up your center. “Taste too good not to go down on.” The compliment left you in a swirling heat, feeling your walls flutter desperately for him.

“Joel, you can just-” you paused, not realizing how frantic your words sounded. You sounded frantic enough for him to stop his tongue in his path and look at you like a deer in headlights.

“‘Somethin’ wrong?” He asked, hesitant concern crossing his features. “You alright?”

As much as you liked his attention, you felt awkward about him tasting you. Only one or two guys have ever done this for you before, neither making you finish. You just remember moaning their names until they stopped, letting them think they had succeeded. Good oral sex took experience, trial, and error. You just didn’t want him to waste his time on you.

But now that his tongue was gone, you realized how good he was making you feel. It made you realize that your slick was already devoured by his lips and his taste buds purely because he wanted to. But you still had that nervous gut feeling that it was out of some sort of chivalrous act. I’ll do it because it’s polite, because it’s only courteous.

“You just- you don’t have to, okay? I understand if you don’t want to, is what I’m trying to say.” Despite your words being laced with little pants of trying to collect yourself from the pleasure, you still offered him a respectable out. “We can just fuck, get to the good part for both of us.” Your heart thumped in your chest, looking to him with shifty, sympathetic eyes.

Your statement made his head roll to the side, his lips parting. He almost looked disappointed.

“You don’t want me to?” He finally asked, your heat still begging for his attention. You could feel your thighs trembling under the warmth of his palms spreading your legs apart.

Meekly, you finally push an answer up and out of you. “No.” Your words were breathy, eager, desperate. “Don’t want you to stop.”

Joel gave you a slight nod, his eyes looking over you for a moment before he settled back down by your core. He kissed up the inside of your thigh, his beard hairs scratching after the soothing touches of his mouth.

“Good. Now let me make you feel good.”

His words made your stomach clench, your walls fluttering and begging to be filled. By the look in his eyes, he had seen it. The way your arousal was quite literally dripping and becoming sticky on your skin.

You could feel his hot breath fanning over your core again, your hips chasing the feeling. You decided to lay back once more, just wanting to relax with Joel’s head between your legs.

His palm on your leg moved to plant your hip down into the pool table, halting your movements and holding you still. The anticipation was all too much, and you let him know that by whimpering out his name.

He wasn’t exactly slow, it’s like he was learning. With each lap of his tongue, letting it move up to your clit and then down to your entrance, he was taking the time to learn you.

You purse your lips as your eyes flutter closed, letting out a genuine gasp as he began to suckle on your clit. The motion eluded something deep in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but it didn’t hurt. Feeling his mouth suck and tug on your aching clit, his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitivity felt like powerful lighting strikes setting a wildfire loose in your core.

“S’that feel good, pretty girl?” He whispered, trying to learn what made you tick.

“M-mhmm,” you whimper-moaned shakily in response, not finding it in you to lace together more than a few syllables.

One of your hands braced the edge of the table while the other fisted his hair, gripping the dark strands and keeping him in place. As if he was going anywhere.

You could feel Joel slowly untying the knots you had made in your stomach, plucking open one and then the other with each stroke of his tongue.

He liked your taste, he liked pleasuring you, he liked that you liked how good it felt to be given this type of attention. Attention he was sure you hadn’t rightfully experienced before.

You were eager for more but shy to ask. Joel, being the mind reader that he was, moved his hand that was dedicated to holding down your hip and brought it to glide up your slick. His wet tongue made slow figure-eights around your clit, broken moans tumbling from your mouth as you let your eyes dip open and then closed as waves of pleasure began to consume you in an even rhythm. Joel’s rhythm.

His mouth kissed at the inside of your thigh once more, having to bite down into the flesh to conceal his excitement. It made you smile and whine. You wanted the marks of his teeth, you wanted the prints of his hands on you. His were welcome.

He slowly sunk a finger into your pleading entrance, letting a breathy sigh enter the air above the two of you. The only sound in the empty bar was your eager moaning.

His mouth gave you much needed relief, your pussy taking his finger to the knuckle while his tongue continued to create generous circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

That’s when you felt it. The it no one had given to you before. The it that left your mind blindsided.

He was only one finger inside of you but his tongue was working magic. You started to mewl out feverish moans of his name, the hand in his hair clenching tighter and causing a sting to radiate across his scalp. The leg hiked up on his shoulder was shaking, your heel digging into his back to guide him even closer if that was humanly possible.

“Joel, holy shit,” you whimpered, head coming up to look down at him. His lips and mustache were glistening in your slick. “I’m s-so close.”

You didn’t have to convince Joel like you had to convince the others. Your moans were authentic, your cries of passion genuine.

Joel listened, he kept his pace, the pace that had you shattering like a freshly broken mirror.

“J-.. Fuck Joel, your fingers,” you whimper, your walls fluttering around where he was pumping into you with just the one.

“Mhmmm?” He elongated in a questioning tone, not freeing his mouth from you to respond. He wanted you to say it. You threw your head back in frustration and nodded quickly with your chin to the ceiling.

“A-Another, another finger.” You groan out. You could feel his smirk plastered against your clit, feeling his cheeks raise with his smile against your shaking thighs.

You don’t need to ask twice. Joel’s inserting a second finger and you can feel yourself stretching for him. He picks up his pace again and the it you’ve been fantasizing about is happening.

Your toes curl, the heel of your foot still indenting into his back as you let out heavy pants into the air. Your back arches as your walls tighten around his fingers while Joel curls them in the perfect spot, your hand fisting the edge of the table as you searched for words to resemble how good he was making you feel.

Joel kept untying your knots, plucking open one after the other, after the other, until-

“Holy f-fuck! Joel!” Your body convulsed with your orgasm, your hard nipples peaking in your dress as your lower half started to grind against his mouth for the ultimate finish. You were seeing white, your moans and the squelching noise your wetness made filled the room.

His fingers worked you down from your orgasm, your chest rising and falling as you came back to life. Freshly resuscitated after a life-altering orgasm. And one you didn’t have to fake.

His fingers were covered in your cum-mixed arousal, he didn’t waste any time sucking them clean as his eyes connected with yours. An exhausted whimper left your throat. Your lips were pouty, eyes as wide as a doe as you sat up to face him.

He pushed himself off his knees, your leg dangling free from his shoulder.

Your foreheads came to rest against one another, both taking a breath to collect yourselves. His beard definitely gave your thighs a little burn rash, but with how good he made you feel, the slight pain was worth all the pleasure.

“I’ve never had someone go down on me on a pool table.”

Your fingers aimlessly drew circles in the felt, your other hand reaching up to swipe your thumb clean across his bottom lip.

“Ever been fucked on a bar?” His eyes dark and tantalizing, his voice lacking true emotion and replacing it with grit and lust. Good. That’s the last thing you want right now. You don’t need emotions tonight.

“Mm-mm.” You said as you shook your head, the two of you wearing matching smirks.

You were glad you and Joel were on the same page. Neither of you seemed interested in anything more than sex tonight.

Joel was about to help you down from the pool table, a wave of heat splashing your already warm face. He turned back when you dropped hold of his hand, lightly squirming on the table.

“Just-” You’re a bit embarrassed, you don’t want him to feel sympathetic. “I need a minute. For my legs.” You gave him a shy smile, and he wore a crooked cocky one in return.

You glanced down as you tested a foot on the floor. Your stems felt like jelly, as if you had just run a marathon, but really, Joel was just pulling an earth-shattering orgasm from you.

Joel was quick to shake his head, his body coming back to yours.

“Don’t need you walkin’ barefoot on the floor. I’m a little behind on cleanin’ up the place.” His words made you stifle a laugh.

He was okay with eating you out on the pool table and fucking you on his bar, but god forbid you might step on something sticky.

You wonder if it’s because he feels protective of you. He wasn’t going to let some dickhead break your arm tonight. Not in his bar.

“I’m fine.” You say as you haul yourself up, planting your palm into his bicep for leverage while you put on one heel and then the other. You could walk on your own.

“You wanna fuck me on your bar, baby? You do this with all the girls?” You ask as the heels clicked on the floor, one after the other.

His pace catches up with you, dark eyes watching your every move like a predator meeting prey. It would scare you if you didn’t know how good he was with his tongue.

“Only the real pretty ones with delicious tasting cunts.”

Your lips parted at his words, merely watching as his pace kicked up a notch. You felt your back slam against the bar as Joel consumed your front and he was kissing you once more.

His kiss was magnetizing, commanding. Open your mouth for me. Let me taste you.

You obeyed, feeling him slip in and have his taste. Your hands reached for your dress that was bunched around your stomach, pulling your lips from Joel though he was apprehensive to let you do so. The material tangled your hair but you were quickly tossing your dress aside, eager to have him back in your space.

His eyes lingered on your tits, his mouth on yours, but now his hands- god, his hands, they were massaging and cupping them in his palm.

You let out a strangled whimper as he pinched your nipple between two fingers, still sensitive from your orgasm across the room.

He enjoyed watching you squirm, your jelly legs already coming back.

“So fuckin’ greedy.. Can barely hold yourself up.” Joel’s words were gritty, lost in the depths of his heady lust. You wondered how big he was, you could see the heavy outline through his jeans.

While he played with your tits, his mouth now slobbering on your nipple and making your core tremble, your hands were on his old leather belt. Pulling the excess to the side and flicking open the pin.

He takes over, pushing down his jeans to the tops of his thighs. You smile seeing his dark green briefs, the same green as his henley.

“I guess we’re both matching tonight.” You teased, snagging your pointer finger into his briefs and tugging until it snapped back into his waist.

“Turn around pretty girl, wanna feel that pretty pussy around my cock.”

Your stomach was already bottoming out, all those knots Joel had untied on the pool table were now forming again.

You whimpered as you eagerly turned around, your saliva covered tits now plastered to the bar as you bent over it. The bartop gave you a shiver, considering how cold it felt while bare.

You whipped your head to the side when you could hear him shifting out of his boxers, his belt clattering with his movements. You flicked your hair out of your way as you tried to get a look at his lower half but he was flushed behind you in no time at all.

Joel wrapped his hand around his base, his other hand on your hip as he guided you to stand between two barstools. He slid his tip in your fresh arousal, smirking as he watched you grip the edge of the bar.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ girl. Need a man to make you feel good, not a boy.”

His words released a whimpery moan from you while you nodded, each time his tip teased your entrance made your heart race just a beat faster with anticipation.

“Need you, Joel.”

He nods, his open palm splayed on your lower back and right hip as he admired the curve of your ass.

“So-” your breath hitches as you feel his tip nudge in, “fuckin-” you clench your eyes closed as his first few inches break you in two, your jaw dropping, “tight.” He bottoms out in one swift thrust, filling you up to a level you didn’t even know you possessed.

“Joel!” A broken cry unleashes from the depths of your throat, you didn’t need to see him to know how big he is. You can fucking feel every single inch of him.

Your cunt was in shock, your tight walls clenching desperately around him as you began to flood over him with your arousal.

You began panting into the wood of the bar, the pain greeting you in a hot flash.

“Oh f-... god,” your knuckles were white gripping the backside of the bar. You could hear Joel behind you, moaning at the way your walls expanded graciously for them.

“Good girl, alright baby, come on, baby,” His voice was heavy, wrapped up in his lust as he hiked up one of your legs and set it on the barstool. “So fuckin-” his heavy breath fanned across your back as he pulled he retracted his hips, “perfect for me.” He said as he reeled them back in, filling you to the max.

Your leg up on the barstool released a new angle for the two of you, your eyelashes fluttering as Joel found a previously undiscovered spot.

He started slow, letting your body adjust to him. How could someone as good-looking as Joel be humble about a dick like this? And he knew how to fucking use it.

You were trying to moan his name, but they just kept coming out in hot pants.

“Joel, Joel, fuck Joel!” The pleasure had now replaced the pain, a sweet sting at your core every time he ground his hips into you just right.

Joel’s thrusts never wavered, they were deliberate and calculated as he filled you to the brim. His cologne was invading your senses, mixed with his sweat.

He collected your hair in a loose ponytail, peeling your face off the bartop as your chin angled up to the ceiling. The pool table may have been for you, using his mouth to get off. But now, this was for Joel. Joel was using you good and hard, and you fucking loved it. You loved that you were what he needed tonight, and vice versa.

The sound of Joel’s hips clapping against your ass echoed throughout his bar, your hand coming back to grip onto his forearm for some sort of leverage. Some sort of control. Some sort of… anything.

But Joel made it clear that he was in charge tonight.

His tempo edged you. Once you fell close to another crashing orgasm, his thrusts feeling like they were hitting you at a million miles an hour, suddenly slowed to the flow of bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic. It was torturous the way he had you mewling out his name in desperation one moment and then the next, he had you whining for more. But every time you neared the finish line, the overwhelmingness of it all was stronger, and you knew Joel felt it too.

Joel didn’t want you just to feel good, he wanted to change how you saw sex. No more laziness from a partner, no more vanilla positions, no more faking orgasms. This was what it felt like to be fulfilled by the real thing.

No matter how hard he tried, both of you were losing strength to put up with the passing of another orgasm.

“J-Joel-” He could barely hear his name with the sound of his front snapping into your behind. “I’m so- fuck me,- I’m so c-close,” You were sure to have bruises on your hips tomorrow, the wooden edge of the bar being nailed into you. “I’m close, please!” you whined, beginning to throw yourself into each of his thrusts which worked up a good grunt from him.

“Feel so fuckin’ good around my cock,” you twisted your head back as you felt his arm snare around your hip, his fingers slowly circling around your sensitive bud. You were gasping for air, seeing stars as he actually fed you what you wanted. He was ready to let you cum.

Your eyes weakly watched him as he fucked you over his bar. Eventually, you had to push yourself off of the front because it was pinning your hips into numbness. Your leg came down from the barstool, your back still bent over as you used your palms to flush against the edge of the bar to hold yourself up. Your head whipped back again as you became obsessed with observing him.

“You like watchin’ me fuck you, sweetheart? Little fuckin’ troublemaker.”

There were no words, it was too late. Your head dropped as your nails chipped into the wood, letting out a cry of his name as Joel continued to untie the knots in your stomach, all of them falling loose until you came.

You heard him let out a long and low groan, your barely-open eyes turning back to watch the sight of Joel finishing.

Joel could feel your walls pulsing desperately around his swollen cock, his fingers getting a little messy with your clit but he kept at it, he wasn’t going to disappoint you. That’s when it hit him, where he couldn’t hold on anymore.

He spilled his white hot cum into you, rope after rope until it was coming out in shorter streams inside your cunt. You and Joel were moaning in unison as you both finished together.

After a few moments to breathe, you gently pat his hand that was rubbing lazy circles in your clit, feeling his warm palms move to your hips as you slowly straightened out together.

You flipped your messy hair out of your face, smirking tiredly as you looked over him while he tugged his jeans and briefs back up on his hips, your eyes hypnotized by watching his rough and calloused hands easily secure his belt on.

“Uhm..” You paused as you shyly searched around for your dress a few barstools down. You went to retrieve it, Joel taking it from your hands and slipping it back on your body. You watched his face, his eyes looked through you.

Your thumb came up to his lips, watching as he did a minute flinch with how fast your hand invaded his space.

“Relax,” you tease, swiping away the red lipstick of yours that melted on the edge of his pretty mouth. He slowly relaxed as he watched you clean yourself from him, his warm palms still holding your aching hips.

You sighed, your body and mind tired from being completely blown out. Your feet were sore from your heels, you were ready to take this dress and makeup off for good tonight.

You watched with a teasing smile as Joel did a shitty job with a wet rag cleaning up where you were thrust against his bar, shaking your head at him.

“Missed a spot.”

He tutted dryly. “Funny.”

You collected your clutch and your other belongings, seeing the spot at the end of the bar where the ice you had thrown at Chris had long ago melted and was now a puddle on the floor.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out.” Joel’s voice erupted from behind you.

Your hand clutched the stray 8 ball on the pool table Joel had you laid out on, dragging it to the corner pocket before you went to meet him at the door. He unlocked it to let you out, even going up the concrete steps with you.

“It’s fine, Joel.”

He shrugs and shakes his head, looking past you once more.

“I know. Just wanna make sure you get in the cab alright.” He waved up his hand and stepped into the street, signaling a car until one pulled up to you both. You didn’t know what time it was, how late it had gotten. You probably had several missed messages from your friends to hear how your revenge breakup went. You couldn’t wait to tell them how tonight turned out for the better. Because of Joel.

Finally, he was really looking at you. And you had no idea what to say. Your lips parted, looking up at the older man who sort of saved your night.

Your eyes said it all. Thank you.

He just nodded and cocked his head towards the cab.

“Night, Joel.” You tugged open the door to the cab, tossing your purse in the backseat before sliding in as gracefully as you could. You should forget about being graceful at this point after what you’ve done.

“You gonna tell me your name before you go?” How could his question come from curiosity but his voice was as cold and bare as ever. His hand was in the window of your cab, as if holding it in place from taking off on him.

His interest made you smirk, your hand playfully plucking his fingers free from his grip on the window before giving a little shrug and not saying a word.

His eyes stray from yours and look down the road, seeing him cross his arms in front of his broad chest before he continues. “Alright, fine.” He said with a little nod. “Do you think I don’t pay attention to ID’s when I check ‘em?” He says your name, testing the waters as a shy smile creeps on your lips, his cocky little smirk was enough to make your eyes roll. “That’s alright, I’ve been calling you Trouble all night anyway.”

You sighed tiredly and smiled, tapping the cab window. “Goodnight, Joel.” You say before falling back into your seat and giving the driver your address.

“Goodnight, Trouble.”

Joel saw you off before disappearing down the concrete stairs into the Blackbird, your fingers gently ghosting over your red lipstick as you watched the city fly by.

---

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #bartender!joel

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m0nsterqzzz · 10 months ago

Text

Happy Wife Happy Life

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pairing: Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

summary: being Clarisse's "wife" will always have it's perks

a/n: honestly don't know how to feel about this but I'm tired. anyway, kinda hate the ending. and my writing lol.

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Love is the greatest thing.

At least, in your eyes it is.

It can bring the strongest people to their knees, risking their lives or others lives just so that they can keep their person happy. It's always been amazing to you.

Not so much in your best friend Clarisse's. She'd much rather have the glory of being the strongest kid in school, or be feared by your classmates. "Love is stupid." She always tells you while she watches you study under the willow tree she likes climbing.

"No, it's not. It's powerful. You like powerful things don't you?" You'd say back with an airy laugh, then forcing her to come back down from the branches so you can help her with her math homework.

She's heard lots about the emotion called jealousy, but she'd never truly felt it until she saw Holly Bracken kiss your cheek during recess one day. The tightening of the chest, the way her throat went dry and she clenched her fist by her side from the other end of the black top and tried to stop herself from throwing the basketball in her hands towards the blonde girl's head. It wasn't a feeling Clarisse liked, and the feeling only went away when you were laying in her arms under the tree after school that day.

That warm afternoon, she'd asked you to marry her with a paper ring, one that you cherished for a whole week until it got caught in something and broke. You'd obviously said yes, the fact that you had a huge crush on her not exactly helping as you forced yourself to remember she was obviously kidding. Sealing the marriage with I do and then placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand like she'd seen done in the romantic movies her mother likes watching, you were officially hers. As long as you were her wife, Holly Bracken could no longer kiss your cheek with that ugly smug smile.

She went on to make sure of that, introducing you as her wife to anyone and everyone that was willingly to listen. You two were young, and nobody took it quite seriously until she saved up almost a full year's allowance money to buy you a nice looking- but still cheap- promise ring from the jewelry store downtown. It was a silent promise, one that she eventually voiced as you were sleeping over at her house.

"I'll be with you forever." She'd whispered in your ear, and you foolishly believed her.

She was gone three weeks later.

You didn't get a phone call, an email, or even a letter. She just....disappeared.

Her family stopped answering the door for you, seemingly purposefully avoiding you in town. It was months before you finally gave up, and it was obvious to anyone that looked hard enough you were slowly becoming a shell of yourself without her. Without your girl.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The only thing in your life that is weirder than Clarisse's mysterious disappearance, was the fact that a boy just told you you're a child of one of the Greek gods. You couldn't believe him. You'd learned about the gods in school, but there was no fudging way they were real. You'd only finally agreed to go to some place called Camp Half Blood when he rolled up one of his pant legs to reveal furry goat legs. Nothing will ever be weirder than that.

Just in time too, because right after you left the school building and started sprinting towards the forest across from the place, some giant winged creature that no one else seemed to see crashed through a window and started flying towards you.

Your protector, someone you learned is a satyr named Joey, lead you to camp with minimal death, which you learned is very rare when it comes to leading a demi-god to camp. It didn't help with the newly installed fear inside you, but you just simply nodded along with what he was saying as your eyes scanned the crowds of campers that are doing their own thing below the hill you stand on.

The moment you step past what Joey calls Thalia's tree, all eyes are on you. A new camper means special events so they feel welcome which means more fun for the campers and the drama of figuring out who their godly parent is.

You don’t have any belongings other than the clothes on your skin and the school pencil that’s brought you a strange sense of comfort on your long trip. A female camper with blonde hair and gray eyes comes up and introduces herself as Annabeth, helping you to the “Hermes” cabin to give you a camp t-shirt and new pants. She explains all the new campers go there, at least until they get claimed, which means the kids in there are either children of Hermes, unclaimed, or new just like you.

Since everyone is gone doing daily activities, you decide to just change in the cabin. It’s peaceful, the sound of campers laughter, birds in the trees.

Your blissful silence is broken when someone tightly wraps their arms around you from behind you and lifts you up in the air with a squeal, your hands flying to cover your bra-covered chest. “What the hell?!” You scream, but the profanities you were going to yell out die down in your throat when the person sets you down and you turn around to see Clarisse.

She doesn’t look much different, her hair a little bit grown out and her band t-shirts and jeans have been replaced by camouflage pants and an orange camp half blood shirt similar to the one you’re trying to put on. You’re so starstruck that you just stare, her arms still loosely wrapped around your waist as you stand there in only a bra and jeans. “Clar?” She nods, grinning brightly as she pulls you into yet another hug.

You’re much more aware this time, pushing her away harshly as you hurry to put on the shirt and then leave the cabin with a quick roll of your eyes. The curly haired girl is hot on your tail, attempting to grab your wrist to stop you before you pull it away as if she’s burned you. Her face is full of hurt, but your voice shows the same amount as you ask, “Why didn’t….why didn’t you call? Or email? Or-or send me a fucking letter? Just to let me know you were okay? That you came here.”

She sighs, eyes full of regret as they fall to look at her doc martens so she doesn’t have to see your sadness. “I couldn’t call you because a phone call is like sending a message out to any monsters that could be listening and find out where we are. Email, I don’t have any electronics cuz of the whole call thing.”

“And letter? I bet monsters don’t know how to read Clar.” The girl is silent for a minute, and as the silence continues is when you realize she doesn’t have an answer for you. You scoff, beginning to walk to who knows where again before she runs to catch up with you.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was scared. Gods, I was scared.” The worlds tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, and the campers around you fall silent as they stare with mouths agape in shock.

“Scared? What’s there to be scared of? It’s just me.” She nods, wordlessly reaching out to hold your hand. You let her this time and she feels relief flood through her. “Scared. I was scared….scared that you would hate me for leaving. I mean, what kind of woman leaves her wife?” She attempts a small laugh, and she takes it as a win that the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in the start of a smile. “I promised you forever and then left without another word. You had been looking at me through rose colored glasses our entire lives, I was scared those glasses were shattered. It’s not an excuse though. I should’ve sent you a letter, told you I was okay and told you how much I missed you.”

A small smile works its way onto your face, but she can still see the sadness in your eyes and she hates it. She hates it when you're sad. “Come here angel.” The girl hesitantly pulls you into her arms, almost crying when you relax into her hold and hug her back before she remembers where you guys are and how many campers are staring in shock at how sweet she’s acting.

“You have to understand that I’m still mad Clar. Even if you were scared, I spent years living in fear you were dead.” You mumble against her shoulder as you grip onto her like she’s going to disappear again if you let go.

The girl nods in agreement, cradling your head to her chest as she glares at the campers in an attempt to get them to leave you two alone. They do it.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Clarisse brings you to her cabin, cuddling with you in her bed as she tells you anything and everything that has happened over the past. She’s a child of Ares, and you spend several minutes that it makes sense after the amount of times she threatened other kids by saying she should hang them from the top of the flagpole.

By dinner time, it’s like no time has passed, and everyone’s eyes are on you as you two walk in with her arm casually placed on your around the back of your waist as she leads you to her table where her siblings are trying not to make fun of her. After a lot of begging and threats, Chiron agreed to let you sit at the Ares table for your first week at camp. “Hey guys.” Her happy tone is a rare one around her by the look on their faces, the smile even rarer as she sits you down next to her spot on the bench. “This is my wife.”

The whole room goes silent, all eyes trained on you as your eyes dart up to stare at her. “What are you-” She cuts you off with amusement dancing in her brown eyes.

“What do you want to eat, honey?” Clarisse asks you, and a son of Ares you know as Mark scoffs before he says, “The last time I asked you to get me food, you poured your drink in my lap and told me it wasn’t your job.”

The smile falls from your friend's face as she glares at him. “That’s because it isn’t my job.”

“Then why are you getting her food?”

“Because a happy wife equals a happy life alright? Now shut the fuck up.”

The smile is back as she turns to face you again, taking your order before she leaves to get that and her own food.

The rest of the campers go back to their meals, though they’re clearly gossiping about Clarisse’s supposed wife as they eat. It doesn’t make you feel very happy, but all the doubt is gone as your girl comes back and sits down next to you, setting the food down before her hand falls to hold your hand under the table the way she used to during lunch at school.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

A little bit later, you finish eating and join in the group of campers leaving the dining hall towards the campfire with Clarisse walking beside you. “My legs hurt.” You mumble while leaning closer to her. She doesn’t miss a beat as she picks you up bridal style, casually carrying you to the bonfire like you weigh absolutely nothing. Smiling at the sound of your laughter, she sets you down on one of the logs surrounding the fire. “What was that for? I could’ve walked.” You say as she sits down next to you before pulling you into her lap.

“What kind of wife would I be if I let you walk around while in pain?” She grins before leaning her head on your shoulder. She seems happy, and you recently learned she hasn’t felt that way in a very long time so you simply smile before leaving a kiss on her forehead. Her fingers lace with yours, her thumb caressing the back of your hand as she talks to her brother. It’s like no time has passed. Although you’re still upset, it’s nice to have her again.

Clarisse makes you guys some smores, a few people coming up every once and a while to introduce themselves and your friend introduces you the same way every time; “This is my wife.” By the time you’re making your way to the Hermes cabin with her walking by your side like a bodyguard, everyone in camp is aware of the “marriage”.

“I wish you could come stay in the Ares cabin.” She mumbles into the crook of your neck on the porch of Hermes cabin, and you chuckle while rubbing circles on her back. “I think you annoyed Chiron enough for one day.”

The daughter of Ares sighs, reluctantly nodding as she gives you a gentle squeeze before walking away. You watch her walk to her cabin for a few seconds, a permanent smile on your face before you walk inside your crowded cabin.

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The next morning, it’s time for you to join in the routine of chores and training. It seems tiring, but Clarisse is by your side to help you with anything and everything so it’s okay.

“You’re getting better, hon.” She repeats for the 100th time in an hour, and your trust in her words is slowly fading as you sling the sword in your hands awkwardly towards the dummy covered in greek armor in front of you. The girl seems to notice your mood dropping, so she sighs and then stands up and walks towards you. You think she’s going to tell you to take the armor off just stop trying, but you shouldn't have. Clarisse was never one to tell you to give up on something. Instead, she places her hands on your hips, brown eyes straying from your face as she gently moves your body until you're standing in the correct way. You feel like clay under her grip, simply allowing her to position you as your face scans her features.

It’s like something pulling you to lean in, and it’s only when you're inches away from her face do you realize she is leaning in too. As if realizing where you are and what you guys are doing, she clears her throat and backs away, her hands following to rest at her sides. “There. Try again.” She begins to awkwardly walk away, her confidence gone as she almost trips over some armor left on the floor by another camper.

You nervously laugh, taking a deep breath before you slash the sword forward again. The sword feels much more natural in your hand, and it’s almost like an instinct as you angle it so it hits the unprotected parts so it cuts open the material.

Your friend cheers, rushing over to you and easily lifting you off the ground like you just won the olympics. Clarisse has always been that way, proud of every thing you could ever do. With a small laugh, you thank her and finally get her to set you down. “Well done wifey.” The words flow out of Clarisse’s mouth like they’re the most natural thing, and you fake an annoyed sigh.

“You know I’m not your wife right?” You say with a laugh, but she clearly doesn’t find it very funny.

“Then what's this?” Her hand moves to grab your hand, holding it up in front of your face and you try to ignore the way butterflies explode in your stomach from the touch as her eyes lock on yours. With rose colored cheeks- you decide to blame it on the heat and not the feeling of her hand in yours- you finally take notice of what she’s talking about; the ring she bought you when you were kids, snuggly placed on your left hand ring finger. It was a bit too big when you guys were younger, but it fits basically perfectly now.

“It’s a promise ring.” You mumble, walking away to take off the armor and put away the sword. “It’s the closest thing to a wedding ring I could get. And besides, red is my favorite color, the jem is red. It’s basically me, in a ring.” “I didn’t understand a single thing you just said.”

Clarisse sighs, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind the same way she did your first day at camp- though this time she doesn’t lift you up. “Sorry. Let me summarize. You’re my wife, and that is your ring.” You chuckle, turning around in her arms and trying not to think about the way you’re so close you can feel her warm breath on your face. “Fine. I’m your wife.” She takes the win, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek before she makes her way out of the training grounds to go wash up for lunch.

This girl is gonna be the death of you.

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That night, Clarisse sneaks into the Hermes cabin. She’s used to sneaking out, but she’s never had a reason to sneak into this specific cabin and she almost bursts out laughing when she gets through the window and almost steps on a kid laying on a sleeping bag on the floor.

She easily manages her way through the sleeping kids to get to your bunk in the corner, cringing every once and a while when floor boards creek. You’re awake, staring at the wall and you reach under your pillow to grab a dagger Annabeth gave you when someone puts a hand on your shoulder and tries to shake you away so you can hold it up against their neck.

“Why the hell do you have a knife to my throat?” Clarisse quietly squeaks out, and you sigh in relief before putting the weapon back under your pillow for safe keeping. “I just…I’m sorry.” You think about telling her about the nightmare you were having not even ten minutes ago, but it looks like she’s already aware of it as she sends you knowing eyes.

“You can make it up to me by following me.” One look into her pleading eyes is all you need to reluctantly agree, and she helps you out of the window and then onto her back so she can carry you to the surprise she set up in the forest.

The sight makes you want to grin and cry at the same time; it’s a picnic set on the cliff overlooking the waterfall you told her was your favorite part of camp, all your favorite foods from the outside world placed accordingly on the blanket. There are little lanterns placed all over, lighting up this specific part of the woods. You can clearly see the stars, one of your favorite things, and the cozy feeling of the date-like setting goes against the summer breeze of the night.

“So? What do you think?” Clarisse nervously asks as you look around in awe. “I….I love it Clar.” You reply, pulling her into a tight hug. “How’d you get all these foods?” You quest with a grin. She innocently shrugs, but she’s got a mischievous look in her eyes that only appears when she does something bad. She won’t tell you that she snuck out of camp the same way she snuck out of her cabin to go to the mortal world, sneaking back in a throwing herself into a bush when Mr. D almost caught her.

She sits down on the blanket, patting the spot next to her and then pulling you into her lap when you sit down. “This is so nice….but why?” “Why?” “Why’d you do it?”

Clarisse chuckles; “Because my wife deserves best.” There it is again, the phrase that brings a blush to your face no matter how many times you hear it. “Well, thank you.” She nods, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and taking a hesitant bite before humming in satisfaction. “That’s really good.”

You two spend the rest of the night talking and giggling as you cuddle up to her and eat the delicious foods, and by the end of the night you’re lying with your head in her lap as she runs her fingers through your hair. “One day,” She starts, leaning down to kiss your forehead before she continues speaking; “I’m gonna marry you for real.”

With a small laugh, you nod, staring into her brown eyes as you sigh. “I’m okay with that.” You whisper, and for a second it seems like she’s leaning down again. It’s proven she is when her lips connect with yours. Her lips are slightly chapped since she always forgets to put on chapstick before she leaves the cabin, but that doesn’t matter as she’s kissing you like she’s been starved for years. Technically, she has been.

She pulls away, watching with a nervous smile as you attempt to catch your breath and stare up at her in awe. “Was that-was that okay?” You slowly nod, sitting up and then turning to face her before you grab her face in your hands and kiss her once again. She seems surprised, but she quickly adapts as her hands move to your hips and firmly grip them.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day you agreed to be my wife.” She whispers as she pulls away and leans her forehead on your own. You giggle, giving her a quick kiss in between love sick giggles. “Me too.”

She begins to talk again, but the sound of hooves galloping near and a loud voice calling out, “Who's there?!” makes her panic. Chiron. You panic as well, and you both messily pick up the empty plates and blanket, shoving it all in the basket and taking your hand in the one that isn't holding the basket.

The galloping is getting closer, and you both begin to run back into the forest- on the way back to camp but still in the opposite direction of Chiron.

You both begin to laugh as you almost trip over a branch, and you have to bite your lip and hold a hand over Clarrise's mouth so Chiron won't hear.

You eventually make it back to the cabins, and you both slow down to a light jog as you near the Hermes cabin. She brings you back to the still open window, and helps lift you up into the slightly cold room. You take off your shoes, and are about to wish her a goodnight and go to bed when you turn around to see her lips playfully puckered.

You chuckle, walking back to the window and giving her a small peck on the lips. “Goodnight Clar. and thank you for a wonderful night.” She smiles. “It was only wonderful because you were there. Goodnight angel.” With that, she leaves towards her own cabin, and you're left staring at her leave with a love sick smile and look in your eyes.

At the edge of the forest, Chiron watches the sweet goodnight with a small smile. “Well I'll be damned….Clarisse La Rue is a softy.” He begins walking to his own cabin with a content sigh. “But they better not sneak out again.”

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#clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #pjo x reader

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