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#remembered halfway through that mirrors. mirror things
n1ght0f-nyx · 2 days
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harpies and haircuts
bennie (harpy oc) x gn reader
after a few months of living in a cave with your harpy lover, your hair had gotten much longer and unruly, but your harpy lover doesn't understand humans and how different they are from harpies
tags- gn reader, harpy male, slight panic, divider by cafekitsune
sorry about the hiatus- ive had a horrible flu, i am now back and begging for requests
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The wind howled outside the cave as snow flurries swept past the entrance. You sat cross-legged by the small mirror Bennie had scavenged for you from who knows where, trying to get a handle on your unruly hair. It had grown far too long for comfort, and living in a cave halfway up a snowy mountain didn’t exactly provide opportunities for regular trims. The pair of worn scissors you held glinted faintly in the dim light filtering in from the cave entrance.
Bennie had gone out earlier in the day, as he often did, flitting around the mountainside and the nearby forest to scavenge for things or just explore. You could always tell when he was nearby from the soft sound of his wings or the sharp whistle he let out when he saw something interesting. You smiled at the thought. His fascination with human culture had been one of the things that brought the two of you together, but his understanding of it was...let’s say unique.
After brushing through your hair one last time, you took the scissors and started to carefully snip away at the ends. Small strands of hair fell to the cave floor, and you let out a satisfied sigh. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do the job. As you worked, the steady sound of Bennie’s flapping wings drew closer, signaling that he was coming back.
Before you could finish the last few cuts, Bennie landed heavily just inside the cave, a gust of cold air following him in. His sharp, talon-like feet scratched against the stone floor as he shook out his wings and bounded toward you, a wide smile on his face.
"I find...more things!" he called, holding up a tattered old blanket he’d discovered somewhere. His feathers rustled with excitement as he made his way to you. But the moment his wide, golden eyes fell on the scissors in your hand and the strands of hair on the ground, his entire body froze.
You barely had time to look up before Bennie’s face contorted with panic. His wings flared out dramatically, and his feathers puffed up in alarm. “Y-you... hurt?” he squawked, rushing over, his large hands trembling as they reached for you.
Confused, you set the scissors down and blinked up at him. “Hurt? No, Bennie, I’m not—”
He cut you off with a shrill sound, his hands hovering anxiously near your head, as if he was scared to touch you. “Hair—cut! Cut! No cut! It hurt, yes? Hurt bad?”
Realization dawned, and you sighed gently, smiling despite his panic. He didn’t understand. Bennie wasn’t used to the idea of humans cutting their hair; to him, it must have seemed as if you were intentionally damaging yourself. Harpies were incredibly sensitive about their feathers, and any damage to them was painful, so of course he thought you were in pain too.
“Bennie, it’s okay,” you reassured him softly, reaching up to gently touch his hand. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m not like you, remember? Humans cut their hair all the time.”
His brow furrowed, eyes still wide with worry. “Hair...no hurt?” he asked, his voice dropping into a lower, more uncertain tone. “But...but feathers! It like feathers, yes? Hurt like feathers?”
You shook your head and pulled his hand down to rest against your head, where your hair had been trimmed. His touch was hesitant, as if he was afraid to hurt you, but you guided his fingers gently through your hair. “It’s not like feathers for us,” you explained. “My hair doesn’t hurt when I cut it. It grows back.”
Bennie stared at you, then down at the scattered strands of hair on the floor, still visibly uneasy. His hand remained in your hair, but his sharp claws never pressed against your scalp, as if he thought he might accidentally make things worse. “Grow...back?” he echoed, still trying to process the idea. “Not broken?”
You smiled, shaking your head. “Not broken,” you confirmed softly. “Just shorter.”
For a long moment, Bennie stayed silent, staring at your hair, his face scrunched up in concentration. His fluffy wings slowly lowered from their defensive position, and his feathers flattened out. His other hand joined the first, carefully running through your hair, inspecting it with the same intensity he would if he were checking his own feathers for damage. After a while, his tense expression softened, though confusion still lingered in his golden eyes.
“Humans...weird,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you.
You laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the cave. “Yeah, we are,” you agreed, pulling him closer to you. “But you still love me, right?”
Bennie blinked, his large eyes focusing on you again. His face softened further, a shy smile creeping onto his lips as he sat down beside you. “Yes...love you,” he mumbled, his wings shifting slightly as he tucked them in closer. “Even if...confusing.”
His hand, still tangled in your hair, remained there as he watched you with a fond expression. He was still learning so much about humans, about you, but every time he stumbled on something he didn’t understand, he approached it with the same childlike wonder and curiosity that you found so endearing. It wasn’t always easy—there were moments like this, where his confusion or lack of understanding led to panic—but the two of you always managed to work through it together.
“Next time,” Bennie said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you, “I help. Make sure...not broken.”
You laughed softly again, reaching up to take his hand in yours. “Deal,” you replied with a smile. “But I promise it’s not broken.”
Bennie still looked skeptical, but the panic had faded from his expression, and now his eyes were filled with warmth. He leaned in closer, his wings brushing lightly against your back as he nuzzled his head against your neck, his sharp beak-like nose pressing gently into your skin. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice low and content. “I trust.”
The two of you sat like that for a while, your fingers tangled in his, the cold outside forgotten as you leaned into the warmth of his feathery body. Bennie still had a lot to learn about humans, but with each passing day, you grew closer, teaching him not only about your world but about how much love could exist between two very different beings.
And even though Bennie didn’t fully understand why humans did things like cut their hair, you knew that he would always be there to make sure you were okay—confused or not.
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fourfifteen415 · 2 months
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waitimcomingtoo · 12 days
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Uranus
Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers!Reader
Synopsis: you fix Peters science project while he’s out on a date with another girl
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You walked by Peter’s room and paused in the doorway. The empty bedroom reminded you of where he was tonight and it send a sick feeling down to your stomach. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air as you looked at all the discarded outfits he had left on his bed.
“I’m not cleaning his stupid room.” You decided and walked away. You were barely halfway down the hallway when you turned and sprinted back to his room to start to put things away. You knew it wasn’t your job to take care of him but you simply couldn’t stop yourself from tidying up. You assumed he’d be getting back late from where he was and probably wouldn’t want to clean up all his clothes just to get into his bed. As you folded a pair of his jeans, you looked up into his vanity mirror and sighed.
“You’re so pathetic.” You told yourself through a groan.
“Stop talking to yourself.” Your reflection replied and pointed at you with a scathing finger. You jumped and looked down to see your finger was pointed as well.
“Right.” You mumbled and left his room.
You then went into the living room and saw Peter’s science project sitting on the couch. He had been building a model of the solar system for weeks now for his astronomy class with a little help from you here and there. All you did was hold pieces together after he glued them but he still insisted that he could not have done it without you. You smiled at the memory of the two of you working on it together and picked it up.
“Why would he leave it where someone could sit on it?” You sighed and moved it to the bar counter in the kitchen. You left the living room to use the bathroom just as Thor was entering the room. He stepped onto a bar stool with ease and took a seat on the counter to eat the apple he had taken from a lunchbox labeled “Sam’s: do not touch”. He munched his apple for a moment before feeling something digging into his back. He sat up a little and pulled a small ball out from under him that was painted to look like Mercury.
“Hm. Thats strange. I don’t remember putting that up there.” Thor frowned as he rolled the planet between his fingers. You walked back into the living room and smiled at Thor until you saw what he was holding. Your heart stopped at the same time your feet did and you let out a dramatic gasp that sent you into a coughing fit.
“Thor!” You exclaimed. “You just destroyed Peter’s science project!”
“These tiny colorful balls were his science project? What was it on? Tiny colorful balls?” Thor asked as he stood up to look at the science project he had completed crushed.
“No. It was a model of the solar system. And you just crushed it. How did you not feel that when you sat down?” You whined as more parts of the project fell from Thors jeans and back into the counter.
“Lady Y/n, you must be mistaken. I’ve seen the solar system with my own eyes. And then I had my eye cut out. And then I had my eye replaced and saw the solar system again. Peters little balls looked nothing like it.” Thor told you, making you roll your eyes up to the ceiling and stamp your feet like a little kid.
“I don’t care about your optic history.” You groaned. “Peter’s been working on it for weeks and your giant butt just crushed it in seconds.”
“Thank you. I eat a lot of yams to get these yams.” Thor smiled at the presumed compliment and patted his thigh. You watched him for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.
“Okay.” You was all you could stay in your effort to remain calm.
“I don’t see what all the petulance is about. If he formed one solar system out of tiny colorful balls, surely he can do it again. All the pieces are right here.” Thor pointed out.
“Yes, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you ruined the project he spent weeks working on. He’s gonna be devastated when he sees this. And who taught you the word “petulance”? Have you been watching The Twilight Zone again? I don’t know why you do that. It always scares you.”
“Never you mind.” He wagged a finger. “I do feel bad for the boy. I’ll collect the tiny balls since it was my behind that crushed them and then Peter can glue them back together.”
“He can’t. It’s due tomorrow and right now he’s on…I don’t know. He’s just busy and he can’t fix it tonight.” You sighed and started to collect the scattered pieces of the project.
“Busy doing what? You’re here and his small balls were finished. What else could the boy be doing?” Thor wondered. You paused for a moment and felt that sick feeling in your stomach again.
“He’s on a date.” You said for the first time out loud since Peter told you his plans for the evening. You’d been quietly stewing all day over it and letting it settle in a massive dark cloud over your head.
“Well I’m sure the man he’s with will be understanding that he has to come home to fix his balls.” Thor told you.
“Stop saying balls!” You scolded. “And the date is with a girl, for your information. A very pretty girl from our business class who smells like a vanilla and my broken dreams.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Lady Y/n. I never knew why but I know that small boy means a lot to you.” Thor said sympathetically and put his hand on your shoulder. You gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his hand.
“Seems like a lot of things are broken tonight.” Thor continued. “Your dreams, Peters balls-“
“Say balls one more time.” You said through clenched teeth.
“Or what? You’ll stab me?” Thor challenged you.
“What? No. Jesus Christ. Who hurt you?” You mumbled and pushed his hand off your shoulder.
“My brother. And then he hurt me again. And then my sister hurt me. And then my brother once more before he died before my eyes. Enough about me, why are your dreams broken?”
“It’s complicated.” You sighed. “Can I tell you something personal?”.
“No.” Thor replied and left the room without another word. You shrugged in defeat and wondered why you even bothered.
“Well that was a fine howdy do.” You mumbled and finished collecting the pieces. You laid out all the broken bits of Peter’s project on the kitchen counter and folded your arms. It would be a lot of work for Peter and you had no idea what hour he’d be getting back. As much as you hated the idea of him being on a date, you more so hated the thought of him coming home happy and his smile falling when he saw what had become of all his hard work.
“I need to fix these balls.” You whispered to yourself. You grabbed Saturn and one it’s broken rings and started to see how you could glue them back together.
“No. I can’t do this.” You said out loud. “I can’t fix every little thing in Peter’s life just to make him happy. I’m not his girlfriend. I’m not the one he asked on a date. I’m just a friend.”
You put the pieces down and folded your arms to keep your hands off it. You knew you should walk away, but you couldn’t stop thinking about all the nights you walked past his room and saw him working on the project. He’d put so much effort into it and now it was in pieces on the counter.
“A girlfriend would spend the next few hours working on a project that has no impact on me just to save Peter the trouble. A good friend would feel bad that his work got destroyed and offer condolences when he got home. And I’m a good friend. Not a girlfriend. It’s not my problem. So I’m walking away.” You decided and left the room. You lasted all of three minutes before you ran back into the room with a tube of crazy glue.
“I gotta fix the balls.” You exclaimed and plopped yourself down at the table. Once you organized all the planets and parts of the solar system, you went to Peter’s room to get the sketched out drawing he had made of the project to use as a blueprint. You silently thanked Peter for being so meticulous and followed his sketch to rebuild his project.
Time went by slowly but your hands cramped up quickly as you worked on the model. It was around the time you glued on Saturns 30th moon, you understood why it took Peter so long to complete the project. All the moons and planets looked the same to you so you had to carefully study his drawings and rely on your memory of when you helped him with the project to guide you as you worked. You had to stop every so often to rub your eyes and roll out your wrists to keep them from getting stiff.
You drifted off into sleep at some point when staring at Jupiters moons became a little too mind numbingly boring. Peter got back from his date about midnight and strolled past you on his way to his room. He backtracked when he realized you were asleep at the table and frowned. His completed science project was beside you, save for one missing moon next to Jupiter. His eyebrows knit together in confusion over the sight so he gently shook you awake.
“Hey. You awake?” He asked in a soft tone as he shook your shoulders. You shot up immediately and nearly knocked your head into his.
“I’m not snoring.” You blurted as you pulled the hair that was stuck to your cheek away.
“I know.” He chuckled. “What are you doing here? Why is Ganymede stuck to your face?”
“Why is what?” You asked through a yawn. Peter smiled and pulled the missing moon off your cheek and held it out to show you.
“Ganymede. The largest moon in the solar system.” He told you and put it in its correct spot on the model.
“There is no way you saw a random gray ball stuck to my face and correctly identified it as Gammy meme.” You insisted.
“Ganymede.” He corrected. “And I only know because I labeled them. See?”
Peter pulled the moon back off to show you a tiny G written on the bottom with the word “Jupiter” in parentheses beside it.
“They’re labeled?” You nearly shouted. “Well that would’ve been helpful four hours ago.”
“Four hours? That’s how long you’ve been here? What happened?” Peter frowned and took a seat beside you. You gave him a sheepish smile and looked at the model.
“I’m sorry, Peter. Thor sat on your project by accident.” You admitted. “I’ve been putting it back together ever since. I think I got most of it the way you had it but I never found Pluto. I honestly think it went up his ass and he just didn’t realize.”
“You spent four hours fixing my project?” He asked with a surprised smile.
“Of course I did. I know how hard you worked on this. I didn’t want you to have to start all over.” You told him. He gave you a fond smile and placed his hand on top of yours. Your eyes flicked to your hands and you gulped but said nothing.
“I really appreciate this but you really didn’t have to do this. You should have called me. I could’ve come home and fixed it myself.”
“But I knew you were really excited about tonight. I didn’t want to interrupt your date.” You said without looking at him.
“Well that was very selfless of you. And I hate to tell you this after all the work you did, but the date was bad. I would’ve loved an excuse to leave.” He admitted, making you smile involuntarily.
“It was bad?” You asked and quickly cleared your throat to cover up your smile.
“Woah. Don’t sound too happy.” He snorted.
“What?” You asked in a high pitched voice. “I’m not. Why would that make me happy? But please elaborate anyway.”
“It was bad.” He grimaced. “Like, season 6 of Glee level bad.”
“That bad?” You gasped. “So many forgettable characters. So many odd couple choices.”
“They sang Let it Go. They worked Let it Go from Frozen into the plot and made them sing it.” Peter shook his head.
“That was not the worst for me. The worst was when Mr. Shue rapped Same Love. They let the straight adult rap a song about being gay when the entire cast of queer young people were right there. And wasn’t there a child in the club for some reason? And twins who were lowkey dating?”
“Yep. All of that. And yet, my date was still worse.” He shrugged. You looked down at your lap and smiled a little before quickly dropping it.
“It was that bad, huh?” You asked and tried not to sound too interested.
“So bad.” He sighed. “She was a great girl, don’t get me wrong. We just had no connection whatsoever. She didn’t laugh at any of my jokes and then there were a few times where I thought she was joking so I laughed but she didn’t and then we sat in awkward silence.”
“That’s the worst. I hate awkward silence. I once pretended to forgot the word for “seatbelt” just to keep a conversation going with an uber driver. I kept calling it a strap on.”
“Wait, is that not what a strap on is?” Peter played dumb. “Should we Google it to make sure?”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “Keep going. I want to hear more about this awful date with the girl you’ll never see again.”
“There was just no spark. We realized pretty quickly that we didn’t have anything in common. At one point, she asked me if Star Wars was the “movie with the things you can’t feed after midnight”. So I don’t foresee a second date.”
“Wow. She had to have a serious lack of knowledge about two major huge pop culture movies to ask that question.”
“I know. I told her yes and she believed me.” Peter replied, making you laugh. He laughed as well over how ridiculous the whole night had been before stopping to look at you. When your laughter died down and you realized he was staring at you, you smiled shyly and looked over at the project to avoid eye contact.
“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” You told him. “Maybe the next girl will understand you more.”
“Yeah. I hope so.” He said in a soft voice and never stopped looking at you.
“You’ll have better luck next time. To be honest, I thought the date was doomed as soon as you told me you were going for sushi. You hate raw fish.”
“Because I’m not a seagull.”
“Because you’re not a seagull, yeah.” You laughed. “I think of that every time I eat sushi. I’m no better than those damn seagulls.”
“Don’t say that. You’re way better. A seagull would not have done all this for me.” Peter insisted and gestured to the project. You looked over at the solar system you had given too many hours of your life too and smiled as you realized something.
“I had to fix it. I didn’t want you to be stressed.”
“But didn’t this stress you out? Designing this thing gave me gray hair and premature menopause.” Peter replied, making you laugh softly.
“A little.” You admitted. “But I felt better when I remembered why I was doing it.”
“Why were you doing it?”
“Because I’d do anything for you, Peter.” You said simply. You watched his ears turn pink and he turned his head so that you wouldn’t see his smile.
“I’d do anything for you too, you know.” He said in a quiet voice.
“Careful.” You warned him. “You already owe me big time for fixing this unnecessarily detailed solar system. If you tell me you’d do anything for me, you’re really at my mercy.”
“Uh oh. Sounds dangerous.” He laughed softly. You shared another moment of eye contact and smiled softly at each other.
“It’s late. We should probably get to bed.” You suggested.
“You’re right. Thank you again for this.” Peter said and picked up the project. You didn’t know if you were sleep deprived or delirious from working on the project all night but you felt compelled to share every secret you had with Peter.
“Honestly, Peter, I was happy to do this stupid science project because it kept me from thinking about you on your date.” You told him as you got up and rubbed your tired eyes.
“Really? Why didn’t you want to think about that?”
“Because whenever I did think about you on your date, I wanted to throw up.” You admitted. “And then rip out my hair. And then eat my hair and throw it back up. And then kill my self or something.”
“Well,” Peter said slowly, “I see your urge to rip your hair out and raise you the fact that I only said yes to this date because she wears the same perfume as you. And I needed a night off from staring at the ceiling and thinking about what would happen if I just told you how I felt.”
You stopped mid yawn and gave him a confused look. His eyes were darting everywhere except for your eyes and you could see the rosy glow on his cheeks even in the dim light of the kitchen.
“Oh? And how do you feel?” You wondered and crossed your arms. Peter gulped before sitting up straight in his chair.
“I don’t know. Why did me being on a date make you so upset?” He challenged you. You narrowed your eyes at him and he looked nervous but didn’t back down.
“I asked you first.” You shrugged.
“Well I asked you second.” He replied. “And as Aristotle or whoever once said, first is the worst. Second is the best. Third is the one with the hairy chest.”
“Ew, what?” You grimaced. “It’s treasure chest. Third is the one with the treasure chest.”
“That makes no sense. Why would a person in third place, the very last place, be rewarded with a treasure chest? They’re the loser so they get a hairy chest. Now that’s sensical.”
“No it’s not.” You scoffed. “It makes even less sense. If I come in third place, does that mean my chest will grow hair? Or does it mean I will be given a torso with a hairy chest? Or, hear me out, does it imply that my chest is already hairy. And that’s why I came in third.”
“You did what in third?” Peter mumbled.
“Shut up. Can we get back to what we were talking about?”
“You’re right. We should go to sleep.” Peter said and tried to walk past you. You placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place and he gulped.
“Hold up.” You told him. “I’m cashing in that favor you owe me right now. We gotta talk. Sit back down.”
“I’m sat.” Peter said quietly and sat back down in his seat. You pulled your chair up to be across from him and sat down as well.
“I’m going to ask you again and I don’t want to hear another single reference to chests or placement.” You prefaced. “How do you feel?”
Peter scratched the back of his head to spare some time because he knew he was caught. He suddenly got a shy smile on his face suddenly and looked over at his project.
“Can I show you something?” He asked you as he pulled the sun off the center of the project.
“Dude.” You sighed. “I just glued that.”
“I know. And I’ll fix it. But look.” He said and turned the sun over. You looked at him in confusion and leaned forward to see what he was talking about. On the bottom of the sun in Peter’s hand writing were your first and last initials.
“My initials? Why? You smiled in surprise and looked up at him.
“Because the solar system revolves around the sun.” He explained. “But my solar system revolves around you.”
You stayed quiet as he put the sun back on the model and took your hand. A look of skepticism stayed on your face as he looked into your eyes.
“I know I do a good job of hiding it. But there is a piece of you in everything I do.” He said. “There always has been. This was just one of my more obvious ones.”
“Wow.” You said after a beat. “I really should’ve looked at the bottom of these.”
“Yeah. You should’ve.” He laughed and leaned in a little.
“Yeah. I should’ve.” You cracked a smile and leaned in as well. You stared into big brown eyes for a second and decided this was the last night you and Peter were just friends.
“Can I ask you one more thing?”
“Is it about the solar system?”
“No.” You rolled your eyes. “Did you kiss her tonight?”
“I don’t know. Ask me that question again one minute from now.” Peter said as he closed the gap between you and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer since you’d been waiting for this for a while. And it was everything you imagined it would be. When the kiss started to heat up, Peter slipped an arm around you and picked you up with ease. He hastily placed you down on the counter and you jumped apart when you heard a crunching sound.
You pulled out of the kiss and looked down to see that Peter had placed you directly on top of the science project that you had just spent hours fixing. You both stared at the scattered pieces in stunned silence for a moment before he gave you a sheepish smile. You didn’t smile back and instead stared daggers at him while trying to explode his head using your mind.
“I can fix it?” He said through a nervous laugh. You held your hands up in defeat and hopped off the counter without a word.
“What? That’s how this night ends? Come on.” Peter whined and followed you as you left the room and continued your silent treatment towards him.
“You’re seriously going to walk away after that? We had something going there. Don’t go now.” He whined some more and trotted after you like a puppy.
“Go get something going with the planets I spent the last four hours glueing back together.” You grumbled and held up your middle finger for him to see as he trailed after you.
“Come on.” He half laughed, half groaned. “You can’t send me to bed after a kiss like that. We need to at least talk about it. Let’s go back and…” Peter trailed off when you passed his bedroom and he caught a glimpse of his clean floor.
“Wait, did you clean my room too?” He asked, knowing he had left it a mess before he left for the date. You froze in your tracks for a moment but decided to keep the upper hand instead of admitting to Peter that you were so down bad that you had in fact cleaned his room.
“I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers, Peter. Goodnight.” You said and slammed your door in his face. He barely had time to react before you opened your door back up and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.
“Get your ass in here, loser.”
“Don’t you mean get your anus in here? Because it sounds like Uranus?” He said with a proud smile. You stared him dead in the eyes and didn’t crack even a hint of smile.
“Do you want to come in here or not?”
“I already unzipped my pants, yeah.” He admitted as he dashed through your bedroom door.
Tag List 🏷️
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@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
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@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep
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@mathletemadison  
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
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jwonsite · 8 days
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bed chem - sim jaeyun
(part of the short n' sweet series)
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pairing - collegestudent!jake x fem!reader
word count - 7.6k
warnings - drinking, unprotected sex (wrap it up,,), they don't rly know each other whoops, uhm lmk anything i missed
you looked in the mirror one last time as your best friend rambled on about how fun this party was going to be, and how you could finally “put yourself out there” after your last boyfriend. 
“i am going to get so wasted tonight, apparently they hired like, an actual dj, and i heard somebody say that they were going to do a lip sync battle between the boys,” yunjin explained as she bounced on her heels, waving her hands around in excitement as she told you all the things she heard about the party already.
you ran your hands over the fabric of the dress again, silently questioning whether you were ready for this. it had been a few months since your last relationship, but the idea of putting yourself out there felt… a bit overwhelming.
“alright yes i get it yunjin, i promise i will not silently sit in the corner the whole time,” you said to her as you turned to walk out of your room
“okay okay, i’m sorry i just want you to have a little bit of fun for once. you’re always cooped up in this room doing god knows what,” she said as she grabbed her stuff and followed you out of your apartment
“how did you even find out about this again?” you asked her, sitting down in the drivers seat of your car as she settled into the seat next to you
“well i have a class with heeseung, and the other day he was talking about this ‘big party’ that his best friend was throwing for his birthday, and he asked me to come, and told me to ‘bring my friend too’,” she explained, applying another layer of lip liner and gloss in the small mirror above her
“wait pause, lee heeseung asked about me?” you asked, making a face of disbelief, considering you have never talked to him in your life
“well no, it was one of his friends, i dont remember which one of them it was they all kind of blur together in my mind,” she said as she closed the mirror and opened her phone, rambling about something she saw on her phone as you’re left to wonder which one of lee heeseung’s friends would’ve requested you at this party.
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as the street filled with parked cars and the music thumped louder, a knot started forming in your stomach. you can’t believe you let her talk you into this, much rather being at home in your pajamas binge watching a new series. you glanced at yunjin, who was already checking her lipstick in the mirror, completely unfazed. of course, she was used to this; you, on the other hand… it had been a while.
you find a parking spot relatively close to the house after a boy helped his very obviously drunk girlfriend into the car and drove away. parking the car you grabbed your bag and looked at your best friend,
“yunjin do not leave me alone here like last time. and if you are going home with somebody please tell me before you’re already halfway to his house so i dont go insane looking for you,” you said a bit sternly
“i promise i will tell you if i leave,” she said, extending her pinky out to you as you guys have done for all the years you’ve been friends, interlocking your pinkies before touching your thumbs together and smiling.
as you stepped out of the car, the crisp night air hit your skin, contrasting with the heavy thrum of bass in the distance. the smell of alcohol already lingered, though you hadn’t even reached the front door.
yunjin let out a small squeal, excited to have finally been able to convince you to come to a party with her again. she grabbed your hand as you both walked to the front door, watching as a group of people are huddled on the porch, holding red cups as they laughed at the boy in the middle badly attempted to show off a dance move to the rest of the group.
inside, the bass vibrated through the floor, almost drowning out the sound of slurred conversations and wild laughter. the room was dimly lit, only flashing neon lights from the dj booth cutting through the haze. the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the heat of too many bodies crowded into one space.
your grip on yunjin’s hand tightened as the crowd pressed in, laughter and music swirling around you like a chaotic blur. part of you wanted to turn around, walk right back out into the quiet night. but another part, the part that hadn’t let go of your last relationship, wondered if maybe, just maybe, yunjin was right. maybe tonight was the night to try and put yourself out there again.
as you and yunjin made it through the large crowd and to a less crowded area of the party, she let go of your hand before yelling over the music, “i’m gonna go say hi to heeseung,” she said with a wink, “ill be back!”
you shook your head a bit as you let out a small laugh, the small crush your friend had on the boy never letting up. you sat down on one of the couches in front of you, and your mind briefly wandered to heeseung’s friends, trying to remember their faces. which one of them had asked for you? the thought lingered for a moment, but you quickly shook it off. it didn’t matter, right?
as yunjin disappeared into the crowd, the thrum of excitement that she had brought with her quickly faded, leaving you alone with the deafening music and unfamiliar faces. you looked around, suddenly aware of how out of place you felt without her by your side.
you pulled out your phone, scrolling through it for a bit before you felt somebody sit down next to you, looking to your left and seeing a boy wearing a white jacket. his long brown hair fell nicely to the sides of his head, highlighting his big brown eyes and plump lips, seeing them curl up as he smiled at you. 
“you here by yourself?” he asked you, the words rolling off his lips coated in a thick australian accent.
“oh no, i’m here with my best friend but she disappeared a bit ago to find someone,” you said looking down shyly, smiling as you looked back up at him as you finished your sentence.
you recognized him, but you weren’t sure from where. you probably had seen him around campus, pushing it out of your head as he spoke up again.
“ah well, you could hang with me for a bit til she gets back,” he said, smiling at you with his eyes wide. you let out a small laugh as you nodded, but your heart raced a little faster than you’d expected. It had been a long time since you’d felt the nerves of sitting close to a boy, especially one who looked at you like that. was this how flirting was supposed to go? you could barely remember.
"i’m jake, by the way," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. 
"nice to meet you, jake," you replied, still feeling a little off-kilter but warming up to the conversation, "i’m y/n" 
he let out a small chuckle, "you looked like you needed a rescue back there, these kinds of parties not your scene?" 
you laughed, feeling yourself relax just a bit, "is it that obvious?"
he looked up as he pretending to think about your question, “hm, just a bit,” he said, feeling his knee brush lightly against yours as he leaned in, his smile growing wider. you noticed the faint scent of his cologne, warm and slightly sweet, mixing with the alcohol-laced air.
“you want something to drink?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder at the drink table behind him.
“sure,” you said, going to get up before he stopped you, putting a hand out in front of you
“no no its okay i got it, what do you want?” he asked you, looking down at you as you sat back down on the couch.
“surprise me,” you replied cheekily, smiling up at him as he walked away.
as you watched jake weave through the crowd toward the drink table, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement, or was it nervousness? you couldn’t tell.
jake returned with a grin, making eye contact with you. you stifled a laugh as he tripped over the carpet beneath the couch, catching himself just before falling.
“that carpet definitely wasn’t there before,” he said, laughing as he sat down next to you. he handed you a red cup filled with a vibrant orange liquid. you took the cup, peered inside, and sniffed. the strong aroma of alcohol mixed with a fruity scent made you scrunch your nose.
“i’m not going to wake up in an unknown place tomorrow with no memory of tonight if i drink this, am i?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
jake let out a small laugh, grabbing the cup from your hand. he poured the contents into another cup, mixing them together before handing it back. “there, promise I’m not trying to kill you,” he said with a wink, taking a big swig from his own drink.
you took a cautious sip, then looked at jake with a mock-serious expression. 
“well, i guess if i wake up in a strange place i’m blaming you,” you said with a grin.
jake chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “fair enough. but I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
you two continued to talk, the conversation flowing effortlessly between playful banter and discussions about your future plans. jake shared what he does for fun, his major in school, and his aspirations for after graduation. you found yourselves bonding over shared interests and ambitions, discovering more common ground as the night went on.
as you spoke, jake’s proximity made it hard to concentrate. his cologne, warm and slightly sweet, mixed with the scent of the party, creating a dizzying effect. he inched closer, your knees touching as he placed a hand on your thigh. the simple touch, combined with his intense gaze, made your heart race and your thoughts scatter.
his fingers rested lightly on your leg, and you could feel the warmth of his hand even through the fabric of your dress. you tried to focus on the conversation, but the closeness and the lingering effect of the alcohol made it increasingly difficult to think straight. jake’s voice, warm and smooth, seemed to envelop you, making everything else fade into the background.
you glanced at him, catching his gaze as he spoke, his eyes reflecting a genuine interest and a hint of something deeper. you were so focused on the boy in front of you that you had completely forgotten about waiting for your best friend to come back.
a hand on your shoulder made you turn around, and you saw yunjin standing there, with heeseung right behind her.
“i’m leaving. you good?” she asked, her eyes flicking to jake before turning back to you.
“yeah, i’m fine. keep me updated on where you are, i’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, pulling her in for a hug. she bent down, wrapping her arms around you, and whispered in your ear.
“that’s him,” she said quickly, a hint of excitement in her voice, “he’s the one who asked about you.”
your cheeks heated at the thought that jake had actively looked for you during the party. as yunjin pulled away and smiled at you, raising her eyebrows, you felt a rush of warmth.
“well, anyway, bye,” she said, drawing out the word as she grabbed heeseung’s hand and practically dragged him out of the house.
you watched them leave, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. turning back to jake, you found him still smiling at you, his interest palpable.
“was she your ride?” he asked, his face showing a hint of concern.
“no, no, i was actually her ride,” you explained. “i just like for her to let me know when she’s leaving so i don’t go crazy looking for her when i want to leave.”
“makes sense,” he said, nodding. the conversation fell into a brief silence, and you could sense the shift in the air.
“well, i should probably head home,” you said, standing up. you stumbled slightly to the side as you straightened up. jake quickly stood, his hands reaching out to steady you, resting gently on your waist.
“woah, are you sure you’re okay to drive home?” he asked, his hands still on your waist, holding you upright. your faces were inches apart, and the warmth of his touch sent a rush of feelings through you. his close proximity made your mind fuzzy, and you found it hard to focus on anything other than the way his hands felt on you. at your lack of response, jake gently removed his hands and grabbed your bag from the couch.
“i’ll drive you home,” he said, taking one of your hands in his and leading you out of the house. he fished your car keys out of your purse and pressed the lock button to find your car, spotting it parked at a nearby house.
as you walked together, your thoughts were consumed by the lingering sensation of his hand on yours. the warmth and security of his grip made your heart race and your mind swirl with a mix of excitement and anticipation. you let him lead you to your car, watching him as he opened the passenger door for you and helped you get in. he walked around the front of the car and got into the driver's seat, turning on the car before adjusting the seat and mirrors for his height. he put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking spot.
as jake pulled up in front of your apartment building, the soft glow of the streetlights bathed the street in a muted orange hue. the ride had been quiet, with a comfortable silence lingering between you two. as he cut the engine, the quiet felt heavier, almost like neither of you wanted to break it.
jake glanced over at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you okay?” he asked, voice soft but tinged with concern.
you nodded, trying to push down the nervous flutter in your stomach. “yeah, i’m good. thanks for driving me.”
he gave a small shrug, his eyes never leaving yours. “i wasn’t about to let you drive home after everything tonight. no way.”
you smiled in return, the warmth in his gaze doing more to settle you than you’d care to admit. after a moment of hesitation, you reached for the door handle, but the thought of saying goodbye so soon felt wrong, unfinished. you turned back to Jake, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them.
“do you… wanna come inside for a bit?”
jake blinked, his eyebrows rising slightly in surprise, “inside? i mean, sure, if that’s okay with you.”
“yeah,” you said quickly, the sudden rush of confidence surprising even you, “i just thought it might be better than you waiting out here or calling an uber.”
jake grinned, his eyes softening in that easy, charming way he had, “i’m not gonna say no to that.”
you both got out of the car, the cool night air nipping at your skin. as you led him to the door, the sound of his footsteps behind you felt grounding, reassuring. once inside, you clicked on a small lamp, the warm light spilling over your cozy apartment. you turned to see jake taking it all in, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
“it’s nice,” he said, his voice quieter now that you were in a more intimate space. “feels like you.”
you blinked at him, caught off guard, 
“like me?”
“yeah,” he nodded, offering you a soft smile. “warm, inviting.”
heat crept up your neck at his words. you quickly moved toward the closet, pulling out a blanket and some pillows. “you can, uh, take the couch. it’s really comfortable. i have extra blankets if you need more.”
jake chuckled softly as he watched you fuss around, “thanks, y/n. i appreciate it.”
you placed the pillows on the couch and turned back to him, feeling a bit self-conscious now that you were standing in the soft glow of the living room together. the energy between you two felt different here, softer, closer.
“so… do you want something to drink?” you offered, “water, soda, tea?”
“water’s fine,” jake said, following you with his eyes as you made your way to the kitchen. 
“you’re being really sweet about this, you know that?”
you laughed quietly, grabbing a glass. “i just don’t want you to think i invited you in and then abandoned you on the couch.”
jake smiled, his gaze lingering on you as you handed him the glass of water.
“i definitely don’t feel abandoned.”
his words hung in the air for a moment longer than necessary, and you found yourself nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“so, um, you’re okay with crashing here? i mean, i don’t want it to feel awkward or anything.”
jake shook his head. 
“not awkward at all. actually… it’s kind of nice. i wasn’t ready to head home yet anyway.”
you bit your lip, contemplating your next move. 
“well… if you’re not tired, we could, i don’t know, watch a movie or something? just to wind down?”
jake’s eyes lit up, “a movie sounds perfect. wyou got?”
You walked over to the couch and gestured toward your small but growing collection of dvds and streaming options on the tv. 
“pick your poison. i’m pretty easygoing when it comes to movies.”
jake grinned, kneeling down in front of your collection, his fingers brushing over a few titles before he looked back at you with a playful gleam in his eye. 
“rom-com or action?”
you rolled your eyes playfully. “you really think I’m the rom-com type?”
he chuckled, shaking his head, “i don’t know, i could see you enjoying a cheesy romance now and then.”
“alright, fine,” you said with a smirk, “pick whatever you want. i’m just going to change into something more comfortable.”
jake nodded as you disappeared into your bedroom, your heart racing a little faster than it should have been. the realization that jake was in your living room, picking out a movie for the two of you to watch together, was almost surreal.
when you emerged a few minutes later, now dressed in comfy sweatpants and a hoodie, jake had settled on the couch, the movie queued up, and now changed into a pair of sweats and oversized t shirt that you had left out for him. he looked up at you with a grin.
“i went with action. hope that’s cool,” he said, patting the seat next to him.
“totally fine,” you laughed, sitting down beside him, leaving just enough space to feel the comfortable tension between you.
the movie started, and for the first few minutes, you both stayed focused on the screen, the low hum of action scenes filling the room. but as time passed, you found yourself sneaking glances at jake. his profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the tv, was calm and relaxed.
eventually, you leaned back into the couch, letting the comfort of the moment settle over you. “thanks for tonight,” you said softly.
jake turned his head, his gaze finding yours in the dim light. “i should be the one thanking you.”
you smiled, feeling the weight of his words. “for what?”
“for letting me in,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.
for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hanging in the air between you. then, without really thinking, you nudged him with your elbow, breaking the tension with a smile. “well, if you get popcorn crumbs on my couch, i might take it back.”
jake laughed, the sound low and warm, and suddenly everything felt easy again. you leaned into the movie, the space between you shrinking ever so slightly as the night went on, the quiet intimacy of it all wrapping around you both like a soft, shared secret.
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you woke up early the next morning, the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, painting the room in golden hues. it had to be around 6 or 7 a.m. the apartment was quiet, the only sound being the rhythmic breathing from the boy underneath you. you went to move, instinctively reaching for your phone, but stopped as you became fully aware of where you were—and who you were with.
your face warmed as you realized you were lying completely on top of jake, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist, his chest rising and falling beneath you. you didn’t even remember how you ended up like this, barely recalling falling asleep in the first place. all you could focus on was the heat of his hands resting against your back, their warmth burning through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, as though they belonged there.
jake stirred slightly, his body reacting to your small movements. his eyes opened slowly, still heavy with sleep, and as he looked down at you, his messy hair and sleepy expression only made your heart race more. his grip on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you just a little closer, as if to confirm that you were real.
“hi,” you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips.
“hey,” he replied, his voice raspy from sleep, one hand lazily leaving your waist to rub the sleep from his eyes. even in his groggy state, his gaze was soft, lingering on you with that same intensity from last night.
he shifted, propping himself up slightly against the arm of the couch. his hands moved to your waist again, gently guiding you so that you were now straddling his lap. the movement felt effortless, as if the two of you had done this a hundred times before. your heart was beating out of your chest, but something about this felt... right.
you instinctively rested your hands behind his neck, fingers playing with the soft strands of hair at his nape. the closeness was intoxicating, neither of you speaking as you exchanged quiet smiles. in this early morning haze, with sleep still clinging to your senses, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. it was domestic, almost intimate in a way that left you breathless.
jake’s eyes searched yours, his expression thoughtful before he spoke. “i really want to kiss you right now,” he admitted softly, his voice low and sincere, never breaking eye contact.
his words caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat. you blinked at him, your mouth slightly open in surprise, trying to process what he’d just said. before you could respond, jake’s face shifted, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his eyes.
“i’m sorry, was that too far—”
but his words were cut short as you leaned in, closing the gap between you. your lips met his in a rush of heat and urgency, the feel of his lips against yours instantly sending sparks through your body. for a second, jake’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly melted into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. his hands moved up and down your sides, fingers tracing the fabric of your shirt as if memorizing the feel of you.
the kiss was far from perfect, messy, a tangle of teeth and tongues, but that only made it better. there was no hesitation, no holding back. you pressed yourself closer to him, your arms tightening around his neck, and jake responded in kind, pulling you against him with a kind of desperation, as though he had wanted this for as long as you had.
time seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, the air between you thick with longing. you could feel the pounding of his heart beneath your hands, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. the world outside faded, leaving only the heat between you, the sound of your shared breath, and the lingering taste of his lips on yours.
he pulled away to catch his breath before moving his lips down your neck, kissing and sucking on it and leaving red marks along his path. you threw your head back as you let out small moans, gripping the hair along the nape of his neck tightly. after taking his time on your neck, he pulls away and looks at you with a certain desperation in his eyes.
“i want you so bad, please.” he says, looking at you with pleading eyes, waiting for you to give him the okay. you nodded at him quickly before he let out a small groan and picked you up to lay you down on the couch, hovering over you before continuing to kiss you, kissing down your neck again before grabbing the hem of your t shirt and pulling it over your head. you let out a small moan as kissed your exposed chest, his hands wrapping around your back to unclasp your bra, slipping it off your arms and discarding it somewhere on the floor in your living room. 
“so pretty…” he muttered to himself as he continued to kiss down your body. your hands tangled into his hair, grabbing at the roots of his brown locks and tugging slightly. you let out a small whine of impatience, pushing his head down towards your core softly.
“jake please,” you said breathily, not even sure what you were asking for. 
“please what baby?” he asked you, coming up from his spot over your lower stomach to kiss your jawline
“want you so bad don’t tease,” you said with a pout, looking up at him with pleading eyes as he had done to you before.
“shh be patient princess, i promise i’m gonna take good care of you,” he said to you before kissing your lips softly and returning back to where he was on your lower stomach. he moved down a bit more to kiss your core over the sweats you were wearing, watching as you grabbed onto the cushions next to you in frustration.
he chuckled to himself before hooking his fingers on the waistband of your pants and pulling them down, exposing the black lacy pair of underwear you had on. he swears he practically salivated at the sight, wanting to feel you on his tongue right now, but also wanting to prolong this moment forever. you bucked your hips up towards his mouth, trying to get more friction against your core. he kissed the insides of your thighs before pulling your underwear to the side and licking a stripe right up your folds. you let out a loud whine at the sensation of him where you’ve wanted him this entire time.
“mm you taste so sweet princess,” he said, dipping his head down for another taste of you. he suckled on your clit as his hands were wrapped around your thighs, holding you down onto his face so you couldn’t move off of him. he was devouring your core like he was a starved man, licking and sucking your clit while also putting his tongue inside your hole ever so often. you grasped at the couch cushions next to you before one of you hands flew to his head, grabbing at his hair and the other moved to grab your boob, playing with and pinching your nipple.
he moved one of his hands up to play with your other boob, using his other hand to finger you, sticking two of his fingers inside you while still sucking on your clit and playing with your boob, the sensation of everything hes doing making your mind practically break, barely even able to think about anything other than his mouth on you. you felt your high approaching, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening as he continued his ministrations on your body. as your orgasm hit, he continued eat you out through it, slowing his finger and bit but keeping his mouth on your clit. once you had stopped shaking and calmed down, he pulled away, licking his lips and sucking your juices off his fingers.
“did so good for me baby, taste so good,” he said as he finished cleaning your essence off his fingers. you pushed yourself off the couch and onto your still weak legs, standing at the edge of the couch about to sink down onto your knees before jake stopped you, grabbing your forearm and pulling you onto his lap.
“as much as i would love to feel your mouth around me, i need to be inside you. we can save that for next time,” he tells you with a wink, lifting you up for a moment so he can pull his pants and underwear down, his hard on slapping against his stomach as he lets you settle back down on his lap, leaning forward to suck on one of your nipples and taking your other boob in his hand. your hand tugged at the hem of his t shirt, signaling to him that you wanted it off. he chuckled before leaning back and tugging his shirt off, letting you ogle at his chiseled abs and chest. you ran a finger down his abs, tracing the lines as he watched you, hands moving to your ass and massaging it. he pulled your underwear to the side and let you sink down onto his dick.
you both let out small moans and whines, leaning forward to bury your head in his neck, moaning into it and sucking small hickies onto it. you bottomed out on him, sitting there for a second to let yourself adjust to his size. he throws his head back on the couch, closing his eyes and letting out a small ‘fuck’ as you sit on him, he looks back at your face, lip slightly bit and eyes squeezed shut.
“please move princess, i can’t do this,” he asks you, rubbing one of his hands up and down your back soothingly. you opened your eyes and obliged to his request, slowly lifting off him so you can sink back down, repeating this until you have a steady pace, your legs burning a bit as you fight to lift off him. your pace quickens as you rest your hands on his shoulders, grabbing onto them to ground yourself.
“fuck jakey i cant ‘s too much need help,” you say to him with a pout, tears pricking at your eyes in frustration.
“aw baby need my help? its okay i got you,” he says as he picks you up off of him and puts you face down ass up on the couch, settling behind you before pushing himself into you again, his pace quick and deep, not giving you a moment to breathe. you fisted at the blanket still lying on the couch from last night, grabbing it and burying your face into it to stifle your moans. you could feel his hips being to stutter, his pace faltering a bit as you guessed he was close to finishing. you were close again too, reaching a hand down to play with your clit to help you finish at the same time as him. jake watched as your hand went down to your core and he swears it pushed him over the edge, shooting his cum deep inside you right as your second orgasm hit you, your legs shaking as you clenched around him, milking his cock. 
he pulls out of you slowly, not wanting to overstimulate you anymore, before picking you up to lay you back against him.
“mm, go to my room ‘m sleepy,” you said to him before he could settle down, letting him pick you up and walk to the bedroom he had seen you exit the night before. the bed was still freshly made from not being slept in, but before he placed you in bed he took you to the bathroom, placing you on the toilet so you could pee, and then grabbing a few wipes to clean you up. he picked you up again, walking out to your bedroom and placing you on the bed, tucking you into the freshly made sheets and getting in bed next to you. you pull him against you, throwing one of your legs over him as you bury your face into his chest as he wraps his arms around you, letting his smell intoxicate your senses. you felt him kiss the top of your head before drifting off to sleep, feeling secure in his arms as he holds you.
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you woke up again later that morning, the bed next to you noticeably empty. groggily, you reached for your phone on the nightstand to check the time. 11:24 a.m. blinked back at you in soft, digital numbers. as you shifted to sit up, a dull ache spread through your legs and core, reminding you of the ministrations of the morning. you winced slightly, muscles protesting at the movement. but your mind quickly shifted to the more pressing question—where was jake?
slowly, you got out of bed, walking with a slight limp as you made your way toward the living room. the sounds of activity in the kitchen caught your attention, and when you peeked in, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of you.
jake stood there, a mess of pancake batter smeared across his arms and face, frantically attempting to balance cooking pancakes, bacon, and eggs all at once. from the look of it, it wasn’t going very well. the pancakes were sticking to the pan, some slightly burnt around the edges, while the bacon seemed dangerously close to being overcooked. he was muttering something under his breath, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
you bit back a giggle, finding his distressed state both endearing and hilarious. you stayed back for a moment, just watching him as he tried to flip a pancake, only for it to fall apart mid-air, half of it splatting onto the stove.
“this is a lot harder than they make it seem,” he muttered to himself, his frustration growing. “how am I supposed to tell when one side is cooked? every time I try to flip them, they just fall apart. then when I focus on the pancakes, the bacon burns... and oh my gosh, i forgot about the eggs…” he scrambled to pull the bacon off the burner before it became any more charred than it already was.
you couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer, a soft giggle escaping your lips. jake froze, turning toward you with a sheepish grin, as if just now realizing how ridiculous the scene must look. his hair was tousled, and the smear of pancake batter on his face made him look like a kid caught in the middle of a food fight.
without a word, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his back, resting your cheek against the broad expanse of his shoulder. the warmth of his body was comforting, familiar. you pressed a small kiss against his shoulder blade, smiling to yourself as you felt him relax under your touch.
he turned his head to look at you, his eyes soft but amused. “i’m trying,” he said with a sigh, “but i think i’m in over my head here.”
you glanced at the stove, seeing the evidence of his valiant but slightly chaotic efforts. with a soft chuckle, you gave him a playful nudge. “i can see that. but don't worry, i’ve got this. go sit down before you burn the kitchen down.”
jake laughed, his shoulders sagging in relief as you motioned for him to sit at the counter’s barstools. he wiped at the pancake batter smeared on his forearms, then gave you a grateful smile. “you sure? because I’m about two seconds away from calling for takeout.”
you shook your head with a grin. “i’ll save breakfast. just sit tight,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before moving back to the stove
jake took a seat, watching as you moved effortlessly around the kitchen, turning down the heat on the stove and rescuing the pancakes from total disaster. as you whisked together a fresh batch of eggs, you could feel his eyes on you, but instead of the tension from earlier, it was a warm, lingering gaze that made your heart flutter.
“not gonna lie, I’m a little impressed,” jake admitted, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you in awe. “i thought i could handle breakfast, but clearly i was wrong.”
“you had the right idea,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder with a smirk. “execution could use a little work though.”
he chuckled, leaning back in the chair. “i’ll leave the culinary stuff to you then. i’ll handle... well, anything that doesn’t involve flipping pancakes.”
“deal.”
within a few minutes, you had managed to salvage the meal, serving up perfectly golden pancakes, crisp bacon, and fluffy scrambled eggs. you slid a plate in front of jake, who gave you an exaggerated look of gratitude.
“this looks amazing,” he said, eyeing the food with genuine appreciation. “you’re a lifesaver.”
you joined him at the counter, sitting down next to him with your own plate. “well, it’s the least I could do after you tried so hard. but next time? maybe stick to something simpler, like toast.”
he laughed, taking a bite of his food. “yeah, noted.”
the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the clinking of cutlery the only sound in the air. you glanced up at him every now and then, noticing the subtle bounce of his leg under the counter. his hands fiddled with the edge of his plate, eyes occasionally darting to you as if he was trying to work up the courage to say something. you leaned forward slightly, concern softening your features.
“you okay?” you asked, your voice gentle but curious.
"hm? oh yeah, i’m fine,” he replied with a small chuckle, though his tone was a bit too casual, unconvincing. his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
you raised an eyebrow, sensing there was something more on his mind. jake inhaled deeply, his chest rising with a nervous breath before he finally spoke, the words tumbling out quickly, almost all at once.
“i was just wondering if, maybe, you wanted to go on a date with me? a real one, like at a restaurant or something fancy like that,” he asked, his voice tinged with nervous excitement. he kept his gaze on you, but you could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.
a soft giggle escaped your lips at how flustered he sounded. you turned to face him fully, your heart warming at how endearing his awkwardness was. reaching out, you gently took one of his hands in yours, threading your fingers through his. his hand felt warm and solid in your grasp, a reassuring touch as you smiled up at him.
“jake,” you said, giving his hand a light squeeze. "you really think after everything that happened last night and this morning i would say no to going on a date with you?”
his eyes widened for a moment, like he hadn’t even thought of that possibility. you grinned, enjoying the way his nervous energy shifted into something more relaxed as you continued.
“of course i’ll go on a date with you. to a restaurant, somewhere fancy... whatever you want,” you teased, repeating his words back to him with a playful tone and a soft smile.
jake let out a long sigh of relief, a smile breaking across his face as he dramatically placed his free hand over his heart. "oh thank god. i was so worried you were going to say no. that would’ve been really embarrassing, especially after... well, everything.”
he glanced at you, his expression a mix of humor and sincerity, like he still couldn’t quite believe his luck. you leaned closer, pressing a light kiss to the back of his hand before pulling away.
“well, you don’t have to worry about that," you reassured him. "i’m looking forward to it.”
the tension between you melted, replaced by the easy warmth that had been there since the night before. jake’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer, his leg finally still as the nervous energy dissipated. you could feel the shift in the air between you, something that felt more real, more grounded, like the beginning of something truly special.
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months had passed, and your new apartment was still half-filled with unpacked boxes, yet it already felt like home. the sunlight streamed through the window as you stood in the living room, trying to make sense of where to hang the last picture frame. jake was on the floor, fumbling with the assembly of a coffee table, muttering curses under his breath.
“you sure you don’t need help?” you teased, leaning against the doorway with a smile.
he glanced up, flashing you a sheepish grin. “i’ve got it. i think.” then, after another failed attempt to fit the legs together, he sighed dramatically. “okay, maybe not. wanna come rescue me?”
you laughed, walking over to him. kneeling beside him, you grabbed the instruction manual, skimming over it quickly. “you’re hopeless,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.
“hopeless?” he echoed, pretending to be offended. “i got us this far, didn’t i?”
“barely,” you retorted with a smirk, handing him a screwdriver.
as you worked together on the table, the soft hum of music from your phone filled the background. the moment was calm, but it felt familiar, like it always had when you were with jake. comfortable, easy.
“i was thinking about something earlier,” jake said after a quiet pause.
“oh yeah?” you glanced up at him as you tightened one of the screws.
“the night we met. at that party. you remember it?” He leaned back slightly, reminiscing with a small smile tugging at his lips.
you rolled your eyes playfully. “how could I forget? you were the only guy there not trying to impress people.”
jake laughed, shaking his head. “i was definitely trying to impress you. i just didn’t know how.”
you grinned at the memory, sitting back on your heels. “really? because i distinctly remember you spilling your drink all over your shoes when you tried to come over and talk to me.”
he winced. “okay, yeah, that was not my smoothest moment. but hey, you laughed. that was a win in my book.”
“i laughed because you were adorable. completely flustered,” you said, nudging him again.
he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “i had no idea what to say. you looked so cool, like you had everything figured out. i was just the guy trying not to trip over his own feet.”
“you were cute,” you admitted with a soft smile. “i remember thinking you were different from everyone else there. you weren’t trying too hard, and you weren’t putting on an act. that’s what i liked.”
jake’s smile softened as he met your gaze. “and now look at us. from that messy party to... this.”
he gestured around the apartment, the boxes, the half-assembled furniture, and the growing life you two were creating together.
“it’s crazy, isn’t it?” you said, leaning against him. “If someone told me that night we’d be living together, I would’ve never believed them.”
“i had a feeling,” he said softly. “i mean, i didn’t know it then, but there was something about you. even from that first awkward conversation, i knew i didn’t want it to be the last.”
you looked at him, your heart swelling with affection. “i’m glad you didn’t give up after the drink spill.”
“hey, it was part of my charm,” jake teased with a grin, squeezing your hand.
“sure, let’s call it that,” you joked, resting your head on his shoulder.
jake wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close as you both sat back, admiring the space that was slowly becoming your shared home. the silence between you was comfortable, like a warm blanket of memories.
“i still can’t believe how nervous I was to ask you out that morning,” jake said after a while, his voice filled with amusement. “i was convinced you’d say no.”
you laughed. “how could i? after all that... there was no way I was letting you get away.”
he leaned in, kissing the top of your head gently. “well, good thing you didn’t. because this... all of this feels right.”
you smiled, closing your eyes as you sank into the moment. “yeah. it does.”
as you sat there together, the apartment around you still in progress, you realized that it didn’t matter if things were perfect. the only thing that mattered was that you were building it together. from that party where you first met to this shared life, every step along the way had brought you closer, turning small moments into something lasting and real.
and as jake pulled you even closer, you knew that this was just the beginning of everything you both still had to look forward to.
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iiwaijime · 29 days
Text
sunshine princess — k. tsukishima
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tsukishima has always cared for you, but will he ever be brave enough to show it?
cws; angst, fluff, happy ending, kissing, fem!reader, petnames, arranged marriage to lovers, mentions of infidelity, swearing, not proofread i think thats all
wc; 2055
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you're eighteen, freshly graduated when your parents tell you about their plans; nineteen when you meet tsukishima kei. he is calm, confident, and self-assured, a complete opposite of you — you're wondering whether it's possible to survive a fall from a skyscraper. not that you'd ever actually do it, of course.
the wedding happens a week before you turn twenty, and that night, tsukishima has the grace to at least pretend to not notice as you cry yourself to sleep. when you've almost dozed off, you hear him stumble out of bed and walk away. you wonder if he has a girlfriend, another partner, someone he truly loves, someone you're keep him away from. the freezer opens and closes. the prospect of you coming between two people too jarring to think about, so you try not to, and you are asleep when he gets back to bed.
the next morning, you're mortified at your appearance in the mirror, eyes red and puffy — much worse than expected, too. no wonder tsukishima had looked at you like that. oh, shit. you're a tsukishima too, now. you turn around, preparing to go to the kitchen to look for an ice pack — you don't remember seeing one, but it still gives you something to do instead of hating yourself and him and your entire life. when you're maybe halfway there, you bump into your new husband. he hasn't been expecting to see you here either, freezing in place with a couple of spoons in one hand. wait, spoons?
he holds them out to you awkwardly, brows furrowing as you stare at him. "what? take them, my fingers are getting cold."
you finally find your voice. "what for?"
"your eyes?" he says it like it's obvious. "i put them in the freezer last night."
oh. oh.
"t-thank you," you stammer, snatching them out of his hands, rushing back to the bathroom. maybe things aren't that bad after all.
living with tsukishima means you have to learn quickly that words are not enough — words are never enough. the first few days, it's difficult for you. when you cook something hoping he'll like it, and all you get is a cursory good, a distracted not bad.
it hurts, really hurts at first. you don't even want to be here, and the lack of appreciation makes it so much worse. that is, until, he invites his best friend, tadashi yamaguchi, over for dinner.
the two of you get along much easier than you expect — he's a complete opposite of your husband. when tsukishima is away from the table, he asks about the recipes. he's heard great things about your cooking, he says. tsukki will not shut up.
"i thought he didn't like it," you say. yamaguchi laughs at that, and that day you find out that with tsukishima, you have to look deeper than just words. you have to notice the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and his appreciative hums, and the way he takes second helping and sometimes even thirds.
and then one day he approaches you, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. he clears his throat, runs one hand through his already messy blonde hair, clears his throat again. he fixes his glasses as you stare up at him expectantly. "yes?"
"canyoumakesomemorestrawberryshortcake."
"what?"
"strawberry shortcake," he gets out through gritted teeth. oh, you realise. he's embarrassed. "can you make some mo—"
"of course!" you reply before he can finish, trying to spare him the humiliation. on second though, this does mean he likes what you make. life is suddenly a little bit nicer.
tsukishima (willingly) holds your hand for the first time on your first anniversary. you refer to him as kei, now, and he doesn't really mind either. he thinks it's pretty, the way you say it. but he'll never tell you that, of course. he buys you your favourite flowers, even though it's not supposed to be a special date, because you're only married because your parents made you.
you hold the bouquet with one hand. "kei, you didn't have to!"
"i wanted to," he shrugs. "you're not the worst person to do this with."
"oh," you sigh, and the smile on your face is real, so real, and so is the way his lips quirk up — a small movement, but it's there nonetheless. "you too, kei."
you turn to go put the flowers in a vase when he grabs your wrist, pulling you back gently. his hand slots perfectly into yours, and he gives it an experimental squeeze. you squeeze back, and his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. "i mean it, y/n."
"i know." it's hard to suppress the grin that's trying to take over your face as you say it. "me too."
handholding becomes normal after that, whether he's holding onto you in the midst of a crowd, or the two of you are at home and he's playing with your fingers lazily. sometimes kei's doing something on his phone — he uses it one-handed, even if it makes things more difficult or slows down his typing — and your hand is in his other one. your hands might lie in the space between the two of you, fingers tangled together, or maybe he's tracing shapes, letters, words onto your palm — whatever comes to mind. either way, you like it. you like him.
nowadays, he even kisses you(r cheek) goodbye before work, and if he's extra tired after, he finds himself melting into you. your presence itself comforts him, your existence a soothing hand over his brow. he hopes you don't mind where this is going.
spoiler alert: you don't.
you've just poured yourself a cup of coffee when your husband walks into the kitchen, rubbing at his bleary eyes. he looks like he's just gotten out of bed and come here. there's something different about him that you cannot quite place, so you ignore it, half-turning to face him. "morning."
"g'morning," kei responds. his morning voice is low, rough as he walks up to where you're situated between the counter and the kitchen island. his hand falls to your waist easily as he moves you out of his way to stand behind you. his chin rests on your shoulder as he stifles a yawn. "i want some too."
you hand him your cup and he hums gratefully after taking a sip. putting it back on the counter, he wraps his arms around your waist. his body curves over yours as he lets go of himself. the weight is comforting as it blankets you — maybe the two of you can stay like this forever. you relax into the back hug; he nudges your head with his. "can't find m'glasses."
oh. so that's what's missing.
"i'll help you find them," you suggest, not questioning his rather... clingy attitude today. it's been well over two years since the two of you got married, and while he has told you on multiple occasions that you can see whoever you want, your moral code is still not low enough to partake in what can basically be termed as infidelity. even if the marriage is arranged, and there are no feelings involved — that's a lie, you know by now that you've definitely fallen for your husband, and hard — you still don't want to do anything of that sort, which has lead to you becoming quite touch-starved over time. so when tsukishima started becoming more and more physically affectionate as of late, you didn't dare question it, savouring every moment instead. over time, it's gone from fleeting touches and hooking his pinkie around yours while he tries to look unbothered, to much more confident hugs and handholding. essentially, everything a couple can do together — except kissing.
that's not to say you don't want to kiss him; you really do. when you see him chewing on his bottom lip, lost in thought, you want to kiss him. when you see him lick his lips while playing volleyball at all the games that he's started inviting you to now, even from afar you want to kiss him. and when one of his old friends from high school texts him about something stupid and his lips turn up into a pout without him noticing, you definitely want to kiss him.
but you digress.
it takes a two-minute search to find them on the floor by the bed; the floor by your side of the bed no less. the covers are more messy than you remember, even though you're sure you fixed up your part of the bed. the blankets are messy, pillows squished. the only way it could possibly be this way is if someone had been rolling around and also hugging your pillows.
you and tsukki live alone. you don't have any pets. you didn't do anything, and tsukki definitely would not — would he?
"why're you even out of bed so early?" you ask him as he falls back onto the covers. "you don't have work today."
kei flushes — actually flushes, a pretty red hue spreading across his face as he thinks of an answer. "you... weren't there," he says carefully.
"i see." your reply is just as cautious as you test the waters; after all, this is the first time whatever the two of you have going on between you has emerged from where it was comfortingly held captive in words left unspoken. "well, i'm here now."
"good," he says, and there's the slightest hint of a smile playing about his lips as he pats the space beside him. "c'mere."
oh dear. you really are sleepy, aren't you? maybe you shouldn't have gotten up this early either.
this time, you're the one waking up alone in bed — fortunately, too, because extricating yourself from the ridiculous pile of limbs that the two of you become every night is one of the least favourite parts of your day.
you find him pacing around the living room, phone held up to his ear. "that's not fucking working, tadashi! she's my wife, i can't just tell her that!"
his eyes meet yours; you raise a brow. tsukishima looks like a deer caught in headlights, before he cuts the call and puts his phone down. "hi."
"hi," you respond. anxiety twists in your stomach, a dark creature from an inky pool that crawls out and takes all of you. "what can't you just tell me?"
"nothing." it comes out too fast, and he knows he's fucked up by saying it.
"o-oh." you take it brilliantly, in stride. "well, are you having an affair, or something?"
you try to play it off as a joke, but the fear and insecurity is pathetically apparent in your voice. "i don't mind if you are—"
"i'm not!"
"it's totally okay if you are! that was part of our agreement, right?"
kei groans. he's not sure whether he should be put off or attracted by the way you're hell-bent on lying your way through this. "i swear i'm not, y/n."
"then?"
he swallows harshly. oh well, now it never. "come sit?"
you comply quietly. if not an affair, then what? technically, it doesn't count as one, you have to admit. but still, what was all of that affection for, then? to soften the blow?
"i like you," he whispers. his hands twist around each other nervously, knuckles white. "i know this is weird because we're fucking married, but i do—"
"okay," you breathe. "okay, me too."
you've thought about kissing kei tsukishima way more than you should. and when his tongue slips out to wet his grinning lips and his hand brushes your hair away and splays out to hold your face in one fluid motion, you especially want to do that. so you do.
you like being in love with him. when the two of you are glued together, when he absentmindedly traces iloveyous onto your palm, when he draws hearts on your shoulders with his thumbs. when he becomes much more vocal about how much he loves you, exactly. now, you even get to hear him say it out loud.
"i love you," he says, kissing your pajama-clad shoulder. "my sunshine princess."
"fuck's that?" you ask him, laughing, but you like it all the same.
"you're that," he replies, and refuses to elaborate.
as it turns out, you like him being in love with you too.
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been on that married couple shit lately thanks mom ig. my parents also used to call me somethinf along the lines of sunshine/little miss sunshine when i was a kid bc i was so happy. not so me now but ill take it:)
chest hurts when i inhale like stopppp.
anyways 2:30am so i'll sleep now. lot of care, take love.
also ive been stuck at 499 for hours now so what should i do for 500
tags !! @akaakeis + @smiithys (gen taglist open!!)
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yandere-daydreams · 8 months
Text
Title: Escapism.
Commissioned by the very lovely @twst-ophelia.
Pairing: Yandere!Dorm Leaders x Reader (TWST).
Word Count: 4.0k.
TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Dub/Con, Prolonged Imprisonment, Physical/Psychological Abuse, Slight Marking, Disassociation, and Possessive Behavior.
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The mirror would be ready to use, by now.
Really, that’d been your first mistake – forgetting what you’d learned during your first months in this strange new place, having enough faith in the friends you’d made and your own middling abilities to tell anyone and everyone you could find that you were finally going home. You’d been over-eager, blinded by joy, and within a week of Crowly admitting that he’d found a way to return you to your own world using the Magic Mirror, it’d been common knowledge across all of Twisted Wonderland that it’d only be a few more weeks before you were returned to your own world. Ace teased you for being so eager to drop out halfway through your third year and Grim stuck to your side with twice his usual clinginess, and despite the bittersweetness of knowing you’d likely never be able to come back, you were happy. You were alright with leaving them, so long as it meant you could go home.
And you did leave them, in a way. If you looked at it from a certain angle.
You just didn’t get to go home.
There was a wet, slick noise, then a pang of pure agony racing from your cunt to your core. Involuntarily, you jerked away from the painful sensation, but it was an effort made in vain. The heavy arm wrapped around your waist only coiled tighter, your back soon drawn flush against a broad chest. Leona’s tail swatted contentedly at the down-stuffed mattress as he let out a low, airy chuckle. “Not gonna get away that easily,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Remember what happened last time you tried to act-up? I don’t think the basement’s gotten any warmer.”
Basement. Calling it a basement would be like calling him a housecat. You’d been locked in that dark, frigid dungeon of a cellar for days before Azul – because he was the one you scratched, the one who got to decide how cruel your punishment was going to be – let you out, and even then, it’d taken another week of huddling by barely-smoldering fireplaces and wrapping yourself in any shred of fabric you could find to shake the chill that’d lodged itself underneath your skin. You stopped trying to lash out at them, after that. As much as their so-call ‘affection’ scared you, their anger scared you that much more.
You couldn’t be sure how they’d gotten their hands on a place like this – ancient and only a step above decrepit. Their means weren’t exactly limited, not with a prince and the heir to a fortune that might as well have made him royalty funding their little venture, but it was still hard to imagine the people you’d gone to school with keeping you locked inside of an abandoned castle, surrounded only by more woodland than you could ever hope to walk through. It might’ve been more enjoyable (or, bearable, at least) if your captors had taken a more absentee approach, if they’d given you time to adjust to being in the middle of a never-ending forest with only stone walls and dust-covered furniture for company, but no, at least one of them always seemed to be at no more than arm’s length, there to remind you exactly why you’d been relegated to the role of princess, trapped in her tower. You’d never been able to call any of them your friends, and yet, the betrayal still stung.
“Would you keep your mouth shut?” Vil mumbled, with a particularly sharp movement of his wrist. The heel of his palm ground into your clit, and against your better judgement, you withered into Leona – the sound of your pulse beating in your ears deafening, but still not enough to mask the deep, self-satisfied purr rising from his chest. “You’re frightening the poor thing. Look at her eyes – they’re practically glazed over.”
 “Is she scared, or just bored half-to-death by your shitty excuse for a handjob?” He bowed his head, nipping playfully at the corner of your jaw. Of all your captors, he was the most fond of marking what he considered to be his property – even more so if he had a captive audience. “If I was the one between her legs, she’d be feelin’ too good to think about anything else. She’d already be fucked good n’ dumb.”
“That’s not—” The air caught in your throat as Vil spread his fingers apart, but you fought to go one. “I don’t feel anything when you—”
Vil pulled out of you entirely, only for his hand to come down on your pussy with a harsh, slick crack. You couldn’t swallow back your pained cry, couldn’t stop yourself from shrinking further into Leona. “No lying, now, darling. You know how easy it is to hurt his feelings.” He paused, then glanced over his shoulders. Blearily, your attention drifted to the doorway of your bedroom – to Riddle, standing stiffly on the other side other side of the threshold. You stiffened, but Vil didn’t seem surprised. “Going to watch today, Rosehearts?”
Obviously. As complicit as they all seemed with your imprisonment, there were a few – Riddle, Idia, Azul – that withheld from treating your prolonged abuse like a group project. You’d been surprised, at first, that Vil wasn’t a part of that collective, but his tendency towards exhibitionism made sense. He couldn’t love what he couldn’t flaunt, even if his audience was limited to a handful of former classmates.
“O-of course not,” Riddle stuttered out, predictably. His pale face was tinted a nearly violent shade of red. “I just wanted to make sure you two weren’t hurting her.”
You felt Leona’s grin against your throat. “Hear that, pretty girl?  He thinks we’d hurt you.” The space Vil left vacant was quickly filled – three of his calloused fingers soon filling your drenched pussy. You clenched your eyes shut, grit your teeth, but that did little to stop him from burrowing his claws into your side and tearing a little, cracked whimper through your sealed lips. “Don’t see him doing much to stop us, though.”
Vil only offered an unimpressed shake of his head, but Riddle straightened. “Are you implying that I couldn’t—”
“I’m saying that you won’t.” Leona cut him off swiftly, the edge in his tone sharped and playful. “Not if you want the next turn.”
For a moment, Riddle didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything.
Then, with a pointed glare, he turned on his heel and abandoned your bedroom altogether, likely dedicating himself to finding another part of this terrible castle to wait Leona out in.
As soon as his footsteps faded out of earshot, Leona’s teeth were buried in the curve of your throat – drawing blood in an instant.
~
Out of all your captors, it was Kalim who’d disappointed you the most.
You hadn’t expected this from the others, but in hindsight, you wouldn’t put it above them, either. Azul had never been able to draw a line between what he wanted and what he could have, Riddle had never been able to keep his base impulses at bay for very long, and Leona… well, Leona couldn’t be bothered to pretend he was interested in things like your ‘autonomy’ or ‘independence’. Kalim, though – he’d always been nice to you. Not overly kind, but nice, and in a place like NRC, that was something you’d been able to appreciate.
It almost didn’t make sense to see him in a place like this, to connect his presence here with the looming fact of your continual imprisonment. It didn’t make sense that the boy who’d once thrown a parade to celebrate you finally accepting an invitation to one of his banquets would be resting his hands on your shoulders, his eyes fixed on your reflection in a pearl-lined vanity as he pulled what felt like the hundredth gem-studded necklace into place at the base of your throat. You didn’t need jewelry. They rarely gave you anything to wear outside of loose-fitting, sheer dresses and the occasional piece of lingerie, but Kalim would’ve plucked the moon from the sky if it meant he could give it to you in a velvet-lined box. That was what he’d told you, at least, the first time you’d turned him down.
Actually, maybe you didn’t deserve to feign surprise. They’d all tried to do it the right way before their graduations, whether it was Vil beckoning you to sit on his lap during a dorm leader meeting or Riddle turning a dozen shades of pink as he asked if you’d care to attend an Unbirthday Party as his guest, sometime. You’d turned them all down, batting Leona’s hand away before it could settle on your shoulder, telling Azul you wouldn’t trust him as a business partner, let alone a boyfriend. Between school and a new apocalypse-scenario every other week, you never had the time (let alone the energy or desire) to date, as idiotic as it sounded to suggest that any of this could’ve started with a handful of schoolyard crushes. Maybe, if you’d given them a chance to see that it wouldn’t have worked out on their own terms, it wouldn’t have come to this. Maybe, you would’ve gotten to go home.
Or, maybe, you just would’ve been snatched up before that thread of hope could ever be dangled in front of you. Either way, a preferable alternative.
“The sapphires were a better fit,” Azul chimed in as Kalim pulled the next necklace into place – a loose riviere studded with rubies. It was the fifth of as many variants, only differentiated by the color of the jewel. Kalim claimed that he’d only meant to get you one, but ever the glutton, he hadn’t been able to choose. “Red is such a garish color. Our little princess deserves to feel as royal as we treat her, doesn’t she?”
If Kalim noticed the barb, he didn’t seem to mind. “I think you look beautiful in red,” he said, leaning down to push a kiss into your temple. His smile was as bright as it’d ever been, and you hated him that much more for it. “Then again, you look beautiful in everything. Why don’t you keep them all?”
You opened your mouth, ready to tell him where he could shove his jewelry, but you were cut off by the shutter of a camera, the hint of a flash in your peripheral. You glanced towards Azul, who only shrugged in response., sinking further into his armchair “For Idia. He’s going to be tied up with a research project for another week or so, and for whatever reason, it’s fallen on my shoulders to make sure that he doesn’t completely succumb to his self-pity and throw the gates of Tartarus open.” He thought, for a moment. “For a second time, I mean.”
You couldn’t be sure why you said it. It was an instinct, a knee-jerk reaction to grab the first blade you saw and twist it. Idia was, by far, the most distant of your captors, and when he did show his face, he barely spoke and never touched you. Even in a castle of rapists and kidnappers, he’d found a way to make himself an outsider.
“Azul?” You made a point of keeping your eyes on your reflection as you went on. “Could you tell Idia I want to see him again? When he has time, I mean.”
There was a beat of silence, then another.
Finally, Kalim forced out an only partially strained laugh, squeezing your shoulders with just a little too much force. “Is something wrong? If you want to ask for something, you don’t have to wait for Idia.”
You didn’t bother trying to respond to him. “Please, Azul?”
From the corner of your eye, you watched him glance between you and Kalim. Eventually, he let out an airy sigh and nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Although, I do have to wonder what you’re getting up to.”
Your only answer came in the form of a tight smile, a slight shrug. Kalim didn’t waste time taking up the next necklace: a choker of braided strands of pure, glittering gold. This time, he fastened it tightly enough to bruise.
~
You almost felt bad for Idia, when you let yourself think about what you were doing.
Almost.
The bare skin of his chest was warm under your palm, the flames of his hair tinted a deep pink - a color you might’ve found charming, in any other situation. He was beneath you, currently, his face half-buried in a pillow while you rolled your hips idly against his, your pace slow and careless. He wasn’t as authoritative as Leona, as demanding as Riddle, and you liked that about him. But, his submissiveness meant you had to do most of the work, which you liked less.
At least he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it. Bias caused conflict, and his occasional encounters with the others wilted before shriveling into complete nonexistence shortly after you declared him your unlikely favorite. Even now, he kept his eyes clenched shut, his bottom lip caught between his pointed teeth as your pussy clenched around him. You’d gone numb to pleasure in the first weeks of your captivity, but any amount of physical contact seemed to overwhelm him. It might’ve been refreshing, if you hadn’t been so, so exhausted.
Gradually, your movements slowed, your body stilling on top of his. A second passed before he opened one of his eyes, his kiss-swollen lips quirking downward in mixed disappointment and frustration. “W-Why did you stop?”
With an exaggerated sigh, you collapsed onto him, slotting your chest against his and propping your chin on his collarbone. “I never made it to graduate,” you said, absentmindedly, relying on the haze of lust to hide just how flat your voice was. “Never got to say goodbye to anyone, either, but that was never going to happen. The other are too mean to me for that.”
His expression took on a somber lull. It might’ve been more believable if you hadn’t been able to feel his cock twitching inside of you. “I… I’m sorry. I wanted to wait, but Azul said— and Leona—”
“I know, I know.” You kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “It’s not your fault. I just—”
You cut yourself off with another sigh, just as unbelievable as the first. Thankfully, Idia was eager to take the bait. “Whatever it is, I can do it for you. I’d do anything for you.” His shaking hands found their way to your waist. “I love you.”
“I want to see Ramshackle again,” you said, without hesitation. Immediately, you felt him stiffen against you, and let your tone drag into something desperate, something pleading. “Just this once. I won’t even go inside, and Night Raven’s on break, right now. No one’s going to be on campus.” You paused, pecked the corner of his lips. “Please, Idia. Nobody else has to know.”
He still looked skeptical, but he was going to break your heart, he wasn’t going to do it while his cock was still pulsing inside of you. After only a moment of hesitation, he let out a shallow breath and nodded hastily. “One trip. And the other never find out.”
Instantly, you brightened, beaming as you pulled him into a deep, lasting kiss – a proper kiss, this time, something you’d never willingly imitated with any of your captors. He would know that. He wasn’t the most domineering, but if the hidden cameras dotted across your bedroom were anything to go by, he had his own kind of competitive streak.
A hitched moan reverberated against your mouth. With your arms still wrapped around his neck, your chest still pressed into his, he started to move on his own – his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust into you from below. His pace was unsteady, his rhythm nonexistent, but your clit scraped against the flattened plane of his pubic bone and however meager it might’ve been, there was just enough stimulation to melt into. Vaguely, you were aware of a distant whimpering, of Idia’s face buried in the crook of your neck, but you let it fade into the background – into the constant fog of static that’d been cast over your conscious mind since you woke up in this terrible place.
When you felt his teeth scrape over the curve of your throat, it was all you could do to close your eyes and think of home.
~
“It’s a pretty basic teleportation scheme,” he’d explained, as he led you through the castle’s entryway after pulling you out of your bed in the middle of the night. The winter air cut through your thin dress without mercy, but you’d fought not to shiver, not to give him a reason to second-guess if he should be doing this. Right now, he was convinced he loved you more than he feared letting you get away, and you couldn’t do anything to break that delusion. “Ortho handled most of the hardware, but he was following my designs. The NRC waypoint was supposed to be a limited-time mechanic, but I never cut it out of the system. It should still work – for a couple trips, at least.”
You’d let him ramble about how many hours it’d taken to put together, nodded enthusiastically as he described all the effort he’d poured into ruining your life. He kept his hand locked around yours as he led you onto a shining, steel platform, only letting go to punch the coordinates into his tablet. There was a flash of light, a slight buzzing in your ears, and then, you were standing in front of the gates to Night Raven College, already open and waiting for your arrival.
You didn’t wait for Idia to move, to say anything. Rather, you let the gem shard (pilfered from one of Kalim’s more recent attempts to win back your attention; the jewel in its entirety had been larger than your balled fist) that you’d stowed away in your sleeve fall into your hand and stabbed the jagged end into his back. You didn’t wait to see if the wound took before breaking into a sprint towards the Hall of Mirrors.
You’d be able to see, later on, that it was far from the best idea you’d ever had. There was a good chance Crowley abandoned any work he might’ve started as soon as you went missing, if he really had found a way to send you hope at all. The injury you’d dealt to Idia was far from fatal, and you’d be in for more than just a few days in the cellar if they caught you, but the desire to get out of here, to go home drowned out your better judgement – leaving your tired mind empty and your body dependent on pure, unadulterated desperation as you ran towards the familiar, pitch-black dome on the outskirts of campus. Your skirt snagged on roots and twigs, your bare feet numb and aching in-turns, but you didn’t dare to slow down, to look behind you. By the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, your throat was dry, your heart beating in your ears. Thankfully, the door had been left unlocked, and you shouldered your way inside.
The Magic Mirror stood, dark and stoic, in the center of the room. You allowed yourself a single breath of relief, a moment to let the past few months— no, the past three years of your life melt away before moving toward it.
You made it all of two, three steps before something sprung from the darkness and wrapped around your ankle – cutting into your flesh and, with a sudden jerk, dragging you to the floor. You stifled a scream, reflexively moving to tear at your new restraints, but froze when you saw exactly what you were caught in.
A thick braid of vines wrapped around your leg – except they weren’t vines, not really.
They were briars.
Rows upon rows of hooked thorns were embedded into the skin of your calf, drawing blood wherever they made contact. The pain was instant, searing, but you didn’t care – tearing at your bondage even as the thorns bit into your hands, as the rope of briars drew that much tighter. Tears blurred your vision, and so distracted by your own misery and panic, you almost didn’t notice the sound of clipped heels against marble floors, the dark shadow that soon blocked out what little light you had. You didn’t have to look at him. You already knew who it was.
In the end, though, you weren’t given much of a choice.
You really should’ve been more used to that, by now.
A gloved hand caught you by the chin, forcing you to tilt your head back and meet Malleus’ expectant, prying stare. He took a moment to evaluate your ragged dress, the bruising and love-bites painted down your neck before a small smile came to rest over his lips; the barest hint of pointed teeth catching in the moonlight. “And to think, I thought it was only nostalgia drawing me back to this lonely place.” He spared a glance toward the mirror. “And I suppose you plan to use that ancient thing to return to your own world?”
“Malleus,” you gasped his name, hoping that would be enough to communicate the depths of your despair. “I don’t have a lot of time, I— They’re coming for me, and—” You cut yourself off, swallowing harshly. “I want to go home.”
His only response came in the form of a low hum, dull and dismissive. All it took was a snap of his fingers, a certain glint in his narrowed eyes, and the mirror shattered into more pieces than you could ever hope to put back together.
This time, you couldn’t swallow back the ragged sob that tore past your lips, the pathetic noise echoing off the stone walls. You tried to crawl towards the fractured pieces, but Malleus kneeled to your height, letting out a patronizing coo as he wrapped an arm around your midriff, pulling you against his chest and suffocating any possible hope you might’ve had for escape. Distantly, you were aware of a rush of footsteps, of a collar (as heavy as it was useless) snapping shut around your neck, but Malleus didn’t falter. With your limp body in his arms, he pushed himself to his feet, turning to face your captors where they’d clustered in the entryway.
It was Leona who spoke first, predictably. He never could let anyone else be the center of attention. “What do you want, Draconia?”
Malleus, on the other hand, was in no rush, letting his gaze fall back to you. “I was surprised, when I heard of her disappearance. I know how fragile mortal lives could be, but I thought, surely, a human who’d befriended so many powerful mages ought to be a little more enduring.”
After he finished, silence hung heavy in the air. Vil summoned his spell book, and Kalim’s fists clenched at his sides, his jealousy threatening to outweigh his pacifistic nature. None of it would’ve made a difference. If Malleus wanted to, he could reduce them all to ash with little more than a wayward thought. If Malleus wanted to, he wouldn’t need five other conspirators to have you at his mercy.
And yet, he only let out a breath of a laugh, holding you that much closer to his chest. “Then again, if I’d known those powerful mages would struggle to keep watch of such a precious item, I might’ve been less generous.”
“Get to the point.”
This time, he chose to obey. “It seems,” he started, bowing his head and letting his lips brush against your cheek. “As if you’re having trouble keeping this little one in line.”
His grin was wider and more satisfied than you’d ever seen it, before. Looking at him, you could only wonder how you have bothered trying to survive in a world that so clearly wasn’t meant for you.
“Would you consider making use of another pair of hands?”
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pyxxiestyxx · 17 days
Text
Class-C
The shot glass sat in front of you, innocuous in appearance.  If you couldn't smell the tang of citrus, if you didn't catch the occasional sparkle suspended in it, you might think it mere water.
In front of you, your affini friend rested her head on her hand.  She practically bled smugness, the leaves around her neck slightly fluffed as if she was preening.  You rolled your eyes, mirroring her posture for the hell of it.
"So this is your bet?  Aren't Class-C's something on the 'dont mess with' list for terrans anyway?"
Her voice was a rolling purr as she answered, "Yes.  This is different.  A heavily diluted solution of a specific strain.  No lasting effects, just the intense feeling of a Class-C dose for about two hours."
The bet was simple: You had to make it through thirty minutes without confessing your love for her, or begging to be her floret.   She thought you couldn't do it.  You thought she was full of shit.  You had plenty of xenodrugs before, of course.  Class A's and E's were fun and relaxing, but ultimately you were still in control of things.
Shrugging nonchalantly, you picked up the shot and threw it back, the sweet flavor hitting your throat and tingling slightly as it went down.  You flipped the glass face down and slammed it onto the table, then looked up at her with a satisfying smirk.  "Easy."
Her smile only widened.  "We'll see." She flipped open her tablet and pressed a timer, starting a countdown clock.  She showed you it had thirty minutes remaining, then flipped it closed.  "No using the time you have left for rallying cries.  Just you, me, and the lovely chemicals your brain is about to be swimming in.  When the alarm rings, I'll administer the counteragent."
You scoffed, leaning back in my chair.  "You didn't even wait until it had begun to kick in?  Wow, you must really be confident."
"Oh, it begins nearly immediately.  Already the drug is interacting with those neurons, mixing in with seratonin and oxytocin and a few other things besides."
You looked at her, doubtful.  "Yeah?  Then how come I don't feel any different?"
"Sweetie, you've leaned halfway across the table already.  Move any further and you're likely to crush that shot glass you slammed down so viciously earlier." She gestured at your posture, causing you to hurriedly sit back into your chair with a blush.
"Shit, I...sorry.  Got carried away." You glanced down at the shot glass, biting your lip as you realized that you *had* been rather violent with it.  You carefully flipped it back upright, wiping the outside clean with your shirt.  "Um.  Sorry."
"Dear, did you just apologize to the glas-"
"NO!" Your face was properly red now.  Oh *stars*, you had!  You had just done something that embarrassing in front of your Best Friend and what if she thought you were silly now?  Would she not want to hang out with you?  You hoped not.  You really enjoyed her compa....wait....
Frowning, you shook your head roughly, slapping your cheeks a little.  It was just the drug.  You were in control.  The drugs were doing this.  But unlike the A or E, it was more...subtle.  or rather, it was potent, but you didn't even realize it until your best friend had pointed it out.  Gosh, she's so kind...
"Um, t-thank you for helping me remember I was drugged." The words felt good to say.  You wanted her to know how much you appreciated her after all.  So you could win the bet!
...
The bet?
"Wait, what happens if I lose?" You realized you had forgotten to ask that before.  Worried, you turned to look at her.
"Well, what would you like to happen, pet~al?" You blushed, realizing it was just like her to wait until you were...compromised before asking this.  Well, jokes on her!  You're still in control.
"Nothing!  I don't want anything to happen.  No new rules, no teasing, and no domestication.  Got it?"
She nodded, sagely.  "Of course.  In that case, I take that to mean that should you win, you'll get all of those wonderful things~"
You sputtered in shock.  "I- no! I don't want to... I'm...you can't be serious."
"Awww, is something wrong?" She smirked, her eyes flashing purples and golds in a way that made your heart melt.  "All you have to do now is lose, then~ Or are you so stubborn, you can't admit that you l~o~v~e me, flower?"
"I-I...you... fucking...."  You felt the indignation mix with the heady joy of her attention, of wanting to give into her, of wanting to beg.  She was trying to goad you.  She wanted you to win now.  She had entirely turned the rules on their head. 
But she also assumed you would take her bait.  You shook your head, biting your lip.  "I...fine.  I admit it."
"Admit what?" She had begun to rise up slightly, her hands clutching the edge of the table.  She was absolutely getting off on this.  You couldn't even meet her eyes, looking away and down.
"I love you?"
"Mmmm....I don't believe you." You could hear the smile in her voice, full of wicked glee.  "Say it louder, for one.  And look me in the eyes~ and don't be afraid to put a little more emotion in it, dearie.  This is a confession, after all~"
You whimpered, managing to drag your eyes up to meet hers.  Reluctantly, you allowed the feelings you had been fighting for several minutes now to wash over you, letting them guide your words.  "I l-love you...I need you..."
"I love you...?" She trailed off, waiting for you to complete it properly.  You wanted to scream, but instead all that came out was "Miss?"
"Dear, it's just a game.  You can use the one you want to use."
"I love you, Mommy."
"And?"
"A-and I want...I need to be your floret.  I need it, please stars I need it.  I...oh gods it's...I..." The feelings crashed through you in waves.
"Go~od job, petal.  You did it."  She slid the table out of the way, stepping into a kneel in front of you.  "You said those mushy gushy feelings!"
You nodded, pleased...until you remembered what that meant.  You weren't going to get anything now.  You had just said so.  Tears sprang up, and you had to stifle a sudden sob.  "I...it's..."
She was lifting you into her arms now, cradling you closely to her chest.  "Shhhh...petal, it's alright.  You didn't lose, silly."
"I...w-what?"
She smiled at you.  "How would love for another ever be seen as losing?  You won, silly."
You won. That made sense to you now.  Especially when She said it.  You beamed up at Her, letting Her wipe the tears away.  "I won..."
"You won!  And guess what that means, dear?"
"I'm...I'm a..."
"You're Mommy's little floret now." She tapped your nose as she cooed, causing you to giggle a bit.  A wiggling little thought in your head popped up, though.
"You tricked me, Mommy!"
"Did I?  Well, you knew we affini never play fair when it comes to cuties like you.  Awfully brave of you to make a bet with me anyway, wasn't it?  Almost like you wan~ted this, darling~" she purred at you, her eyes filled with light and warmth.  You thought you couldn't possibly blush more, but it turns out you definitely could.
"I...noooooooooo!!!  I didn't...I mean....maybe?"
"Silly little flower." She picked up her tablet, turning it back on and dismissing the timer, which had paused as soon as she had closed it.  "Now, let's get you home.  We have a contract to sign~"
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serpentandlily · 10 months
Text
Untouchable VII - Azriel x Reader
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Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: angst angst angst
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part VII
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“Are you alright?”
Feyre’s voice knocked you out of your own head. You swallowed audibly, looking at her before following her gaze down to where you were holding your wine glass, white knuckled. You let out a sigh and set the glass down on the table, putting your hands in your lap.
“I’m fine, sorry,” you said, to get her attention off of you. “Just thinking about my last trip to Hewn City, that’s all.” 
Feyre’s brows furrowed but she nodded. 
Your eyes flickered back to the other end of the table, where Elain and Azriel sat. Elain was basically halfway out of her chair, leaning into Azriel’s space. A knot formed at the back of your throat. Azriel wasn’t exactly encouraging her, but he also wasn’t trying to put more distance between the two of them. 
Jealousy roared its ugly head inside of you. Especially as you watched her place a hand on his arm, laughing at something he said. A hand that wouldn’t hurt him, unlike yours. 
You looked away, unable to bear the sight of it anymore. You just wanted this stupid dinner to be over already. 
Everyone seemed to have paired off into conversation. Feyre and Rhys, Cassian and Nesta, Helion and Mor, Amren and Varian, Elain and Azriel. You pushed around the food on your plate, feeling alone. 
There was one another person here who looked just as lonely as you. Lucien sat across from you, his eyes glued on his mate who was flirting with your…with your Azriel. 
Elain laughed again, drawing your attention back to her. This time, Azriel had a soft smile on his face as well. 
You couldn’t take it anymore, thankful everyone seemed to be finished eating dessert. You cleared your throat, standing up and drawing everyone’s eyes to you. You kept your focus on Helion though.
“I'm going to turn in for the night. It was lovely seeing you again, Helion,” you said politely. “Goodnight.”
You couldn’t get to the balcony fast enough, summoning your wings to make the short flight back to the River House. You ignored the soft stroke of your brother’s claws against your mental shield, not in the mood to make up excuses for your behavior. 
Once you were in your room, you started ripping the pins from your hair and tossing them on your vanity. Just as you were finishing letting your hair down, the shadows in the corner of your room seemed to expand until a dark figure stepped out of them. 
Azriel approached you, concern written on his face. 
“Y/n? Why did you take off like that? Is everything alright?”
You didn’t turn to face him, instead you looked at him through the mirror. 
“I’m fine. I-I just didn’t feel too good.” 
“Don’t do that, princess,” Azriel said, stalking forward until he was right behind you, still able to look at you in the eyes considering he was a foot taller than you. “I thought we were being honest with each other now.” 
You let out a sigh and turned around, placing a soft hand on his chest. “I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t stand watching you with her. After what I saw that night—” You choked on your own words for a second. “It’s hard to be around you when I can't be with you.” 
Azriel placed his hand over yours. “I cannot apologize enough for that night, princess. But it is only you that I see. It meant nothing to me then and it means nothing to me now. You are the only one who owns my entire heart. I can only pray that a day comes when I can let everyone else see that too.” 
You softened, staring up at his beautiful hazel eyes. They were gold right now in the moonlight shining into your room from the balcony doors, a perfect compliment to your own violet ones. But then his jaw clenched and the moment was stolen away.
You pulled your hand away from him, letting your arm fall limp at your side. 
“This is also why I left,” you breathed out. “It pains me to see another person get to touch you when I can’t. I hate it, Azriel. I hate that I bring you pain.” 
“I’d drag myself across the burning fires of hell for you, princess” Azriel brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, before leaning down to whisper, “I’ve never been a stranger to pain, y/n. Quite the opposite. I’ve learned to like it.” 
The heat in his gaze—his words—made you melt right into his hands. 
“Is that so?” Your voice was a mere whisper as your hand trailed down his chest, lingering on the waistband of his pants before palming his hardened length with a ghost of a touch. 
Azriel groaned, his head falling against your shoulder. “Don’t tease me. Not tonight.” 
“Oh, I won’t,” you purred, stroking against his mental barrier.
When he let you in, you showed him exactly how the two of you were going to spend the rest of the night. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You bit your lip, tossing more of your clothes out of your wardrobe and onto the floor of your bedroom as you dug around, searching for your journal. It wasn’t in the place you normally hid it, but that hadn’t been too concerning. You did often throw it about after writing in it for hours. But not being able to find it at all? That was a first.
“What are you looking for?”
You screeched, falling backwards onto your butt at the sudden voice. A masculine chuckle, accompanied with the scent of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded the room. You peered up to see Azriel hovering over you. You pouted at him and his antics. 
“It’s rude to just appear in a ladies room, you know,” you snipped, causing him to snort. “I’m looking for my journal. I can’t find it anywhere. Have you seen it?” 
Azriel shook his head, offering a hand to help you off the floor. “I didn’t even know you kept a journal. I can help you look.”
“No, it’s alright. I’m sure it’ll turn up.”
Before you could say another word, Azriel surged forward to kiss you. You let out a small gasp before giving yourself over to him. He kissed you with a familiar passion, bringing heat to your core and causing your heart to beat fiercely. 
 The kiss ended far too soon. 
“What was that for?” you panted. 
“Can’t I just kiss you?” 
You gave him a look that had his lips twitching. “Fine. Cassian needs help in Windhaven so I’m going to be gone for a few days. I wanted to see you before I left.” 
You frowned as he played with the straps of your dress, his eyes as pained as yours were at the thought of having to spend time away from each other. 
“Do you really have to go? Can’t Rhys go help him? He’s the High Lord, not you.”
Azriel pressed a kiss to your lips again, smiling. 
“Is someone going to miss me?” 
His eyes softened when the look on your face didn’t change. 
“It’s just for a few days, princess,” Azriel said. “I’ll be back before you know it.” 
“I suppose you don’t have a choice.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Do I at least get more of a goodbye?” 
Azriel let out a small groan as your body pressed against his but to your displeasure, he merely kissed you on the forehead and stepped away. “I wish, princess, but your brother asked me to meet with him before I leave. I’m sorry.” 
“Why is he always getting in the way?” you grumbled, more to yourself than anything. 
Azriel placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.” 
“Okay,” you sighed. “Be safe. I love you.”
“I love you too, Princess,” he murmured, giving you one last kiss before disappearing in a whirlwind of shadows. 
His scent trailed behind him…but then you stiffened, another lingering scent was attached to it. 
You sniffed the air.
Jasmine and Honey. 
Elain’s scent. 
Your heart dropped to your stomach. Why did he smell like Elain? Had he gone and said goodbye to her as well? Had he been with her before coming to see you? You could feel your blood rushing to your head and you forced yourself to calm down.
You sniffed the air again, only smelling his night-chilled mist and cedar this time. You let out a long breath, sitting down at the edge of your bed. Perhaps you had been mistaken. Perhaps your own insecurities were making you paranoid. 
But something awful curled in your stomach.
And a feeling of dread rushed through you.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You busied yourself while Azriel was away. It had only been a day so far, but you already missed him so much. You had buried yourself in reports from the Court of Nightmares and correspondence from Eris. But still, nothing could fully distract you from your thoughts. 
You kept going back to that scent in your room. 
Had you made that up?
But why? Why would you do that to yourself? You hadn’t even been thinking of Elain. You wrestled with the idea that maybe Azriel had seen Elain before you, to tell her he was leaving. They were friends, after all. It could be something harmless.
But that night kept flashing behind your eyes every time you shut them. Elain on the counter, her dress pushed up to her thighs, Azriel between them, as they ravishingly kissed each other. Elain and Azriel at the dinner table, her hand on his bicep as he made her laugh. 
It made you feel sick to your stomach.
The words on the parchment you were reading blurred together and you set it aside with a sigh. 
You were overthinking things. Azriel had told you time and time again that he wanted to be with you. That he’s always wanted to be with you and it was your own brother that had kept him away.
You dropped your head down on your desk, sucking in air. You were just being paranoid. You were letting your insecure feelings get in your head. Azriel wanted you. Azriel wanted only you. He loved you. He always had…
Right?
A giggle in the corridor outside your door caught your attention. You sat up straight, recognizing it to be Elain’s. You froze for a second before quietly getting up and walking to your door, pressing your ear against the cold wood.
Another giggle, a bit further down the hallway this time. 
You slowly pushed the door open a crack, peering into the dark corridor. Another giggle and the sound of someone shushing another. A streak of golden-brown hair slipping around the corner. Azriel’s scent wafted through the space and your stomach turned over.
You stepped into the now quiet hallway, following after the sound of Elain’s giggles and Azriel’s scent. 
He was supposed to be in Windhaven. Why was he here? And why was here with Elain in the middle of the night? Your heart was pounding in your chest. You felt like throwing up. But you pushed yourself to follow despite your better judgment. 
A door around the corner slammed shut and you could hear the sound of rustling clothes. Tears pricked your eyes and you darted forward now, pushing the door open.
Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the empty room. You blinked once. Twice. You couldn’t hear Elain’s giggle anymore, couldn't scent Azriel either. 
Had you imagined all of that? 
You rubbed at your eyes, exhaustion settling into your body. Gods, you were going crazy. The lack of sleep was finally getting to you. That was the only logical explanation you could give yourself. You left the room and returned to your own. 
Just a few more days. 
A few more days and Azriel would be home. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The next two days passed in a blur.
You had a stack of reports in your arms as you made your way towards your brother’s office, ready to deliver them. You had been staying in the Townhouse the past few nights, needing space away from Elain–hoping it would make your delusions go away.
It wasn’t her fault that you were going crazy, wasn’t her fault that your own brother had pushed Azriel away from you all those years. You didn’t want to take it out on her, so you figured you’d just remove yourself from the Riverhouse until Azriel returned. 
You were passing by a closed off room when a familiar voice made you stop in your tracks.
“Fuck, Elain,” Azriel moaned. “You feel so good.”
You shook your head but the sound of two people panting didn’t go away. You froze, just like last time, squeezing your eyes shut, hoping it would go away. You were truly going crazy. You had to be. 
“Gods,” Elain panted. “Please, Azriel, don’t stop.” 
Your eyes shot open as your heart dropped to your stomach once more. That feeling of dread came again as bile rose up in the back of your throat. You put your hand against the door, slowly pushing it open, praying that you would be met with the sight of an empty room just like last time. 
You choked silently on your breath as you peered into the room through the crack in the door. Your hand shot to your mouth as the sight of Azriel and Elain came into view. You blinked once. Twice.
It didn’t go away.
There was Azriel, holding Elain against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist as they kissed. Your heart snapped into a million pieces, your eyes stinging with tears that had started falling. 
What the fuck? 
How…How could he do this?
They pulled away from each other and Azriel rested his forehead against hers. 
“How much longer must you pretend to be interested in Rhys’s sister?” Elain asked, closing her eyes. “I’m tired of hiding, Azriel. I don’t care what Rhys thinks. I want the whole court to know how much we love each other.”
“It’s better this way for now, Elain. If Rhys is suspicious of me messing around with his sister, then he will take the news of us together more lightly. He’ll be relieved it's not her I’m after. Hell, he’ll probably throw us a wedding himself.” 
Elain giggled, pecking his lips. “I just hate watching her pine after you. It’s a little sad, honestly. You’d think she would’ve moved on after all this time.”
“I know,” Azriel agreed. “But it’ll be worth it. I promise you.” 
You couldn’t bear to hear anymore. You silently took a step back, closing the door as softly as you could. You felt your vision go in and out of focus as you forced your legs to keep moving.
Azriel…Azriel had been using you this whole time? He had been wanting your brother to think he had moved on from Elain to you in hopes that your brother would be outraged by the thought, leading him to be relieved that it was still Elain he desired, not you. 
You wanted to throw up.
Wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.
You…Gods, you were such an idiot. You had believed every single thing Azriel had said to you. Had never doubted him until these past few days. 
No. No….you couldn’t…you couldn’t do this. You were going to be sick. 
You were walking still, not even sure where your legs were taking you. You wanted to winnow to Illyria and throw yourself off a cliff, wanted to curl up in a ball in your room and cry, wanted to…Gods, you needed to get away. Needed to get the hell out of here.
“Dove? Are you alright?”
You blinked, your vision coming back into focus to realize you had walked to your brother’s office—your mind likely on autopilot. His violet eyes were staring at you with concern, tracking the tears falling from your eyes.
The reports fell from your hand, scattering to the floor. Rhys rose from his desk, striding over to you quickly. A sob escaped your lips as he grabbed you by the arms, shaking you a bit.
“Dove, what happened? What’s going on? Why are you crying?” 
The words began spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Azriel was seated at the kitchen table in Rhys’s family cabin, across from Cassian who looked as miserable as he did. It had been a long day of dealing with Devlon and the other Illyrians. 
A shadow curled over his ear.
The High Lord approaches. He is angry with you, master. 
Azriel swallowed audibly as a wave of darkness overtook the cabin, Rhys stepped out of it looking like a prince from hell, his violet eyes set on him with a burning rage.
Azriel knew the moment he saw Rhys what this was about. He had finally figured it out. He finally knew what was going on between him and his sister. That was the only reason he could think of. 
“Azriel!” The High Lord growled, causing Cassian to jump to his feet, his brows furrowed with confusion. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Azriel braced himself but didn’t move. He deserved Rhys’s wrath. He knew he did. 
Rhys tackled him, splintering the wooden chair into pieces as the two males landed on the hard ground. Cassian shouted at them to stop but Rhys began to pummel Azriel with his fists.
Azriel didn’t bother fighting back. He just laid on the ground, letting Rhys beat him even as he began to spit up blood. 
He always knew this day would come. Knew that he deserved to be beaten into an inch of life for what he had done. He had taken something as pure and good as y/n and fully corrupted her, marked her, ruined her. 
He had never deserved to lay his hands on her perfect skin, her perfect body. Not when his hands were so flawed. Not when his hands had done such terrible things. 
Suddenly, Rhys was being yanked off of him by Cassian. Rhys growled at his other brother, trying to push him away but Cassian held strong.
“Azriel, get the fuck up,” Cassian grunted. “Why the fuck didn’t you try to fight back?”
Azriel stood, slowly, wiping a hand at the blood that was beginning to dribble down his chin. He spat out more blood, already feeling the bruising that was going to be scattered all over his jaw.
“Because he knows he deserves it,” Rhys snapped. “You fucking piece of shit! I trusted you! I fucking let you into my home, took care of you like a brother, and this is how you repay me?! I swear to the Gods if you don’t get out of my way, Cassian—”
“Stop!” Cassian shouted. “What the fuck is going on? What the fuck happened?”
“Tell him, Azriel, tell him what you’ve done! Tell him how you’ve been messing around with my little sister behind my back!”
Cassian’s eyes widened, his head whipping back and forth behind his brothers. “Rhys, calm down. I don’t know who you heard that from but that can’t be true. Right, Az? I mean, fuck, the bargain we have wouldn’t even—”
“It’s true, Cassian,” Azriel cut him off. “It’s true. Let him go. I deserve this. I fucked up.” 
“Azriel,” Cassian murmured in disbelief, his eyes full of disappointment. Azriel couldn’t bear the sight of it. 
“You’re fucking sick, Azriel,” Rhys growled. “You held her as a baby! You watched her grow up for fucks sake! I thought I could trust you!”
“Oh fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel said, baring his teeth at the other male. “Don’t make this into something it’s not. I love her! I fucking love her, alright! I always have! And you knew it! That’s why you made us make that fucking bargain with you in the first place!”
“Oh you love her?” Rhys snapped, sarcastically. “You love her so much, huh? Is that why she’s in her room crying over you right now? Is that why you fucking used her to get back at me for telling you to stay away from Elain? I’m going to fucking rip your throat out!”
He lurched forward again, but Cassian took the brunt of his weight, holding him off. 
Azriel froze, utterly bewildered.
“Az…what is he talking about? What does he mean you’ve been using y/n?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel spat. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, Rhys. I’m not using y/n and I never even wanted Elain. I was trying to move on from…from loving your sister for gods’ sake.”
Rhys laughed bitterly. “If that’s so, then tell me why my sister came crying to me a few hours ago after catching you and Elain fucking each other?!”
“What!” Cassian swiveled to look at Azriel again. But Azriel looked as shocked as he did. 
“What the fuck are you talking about, Rhys? I’ve been here all day with Cassian. I don’t want Elain and I certainly wouldn’t be using your sister to get with her!”
“You’re a fucking liar, Azriel! She showed me what she saw, you prick! Cass, you better fucking let me go—”
“He’s not lying, Rhys,” Cassian interjected. “He really has been here with me all day. I don’t think he’s left my sight once. You can go into my mind and look, but I swear it. If…if what you’re saying is true, then I’ll fucking help you kick Azriel’s ass but I think there’s some miscommunication here.”
“Y/n is in her room crying…because she thinks I’ve been using her? I don’t… I wouldn’t,” Azriel murmured, mostly to himself. “I need to go see her.”
“If you move a single muscle, I swear I’ll tear your mind apart, Azriel,” Rhys yelled. “Don’t you dare even think about seeing her right now! You have no idea what you’ve caused!”
“Rhys, I swear on my life that I haven’t touched Elain since winter solstice! And I would never use your sister. I love her! She’s all that matters to me! I need to go to her. I don’t know what she saw but it wasn’t me!”
“Rhys, please, listen to him. I know you’re upset, I am too, but come on, you know Azriel. Does this really seem like something he would do?”
“I saw her memory of it, Cass. I saw him fucking Elain! I saw him talking about using her!”
Azriel stepped forward, glaring. “I haven’t fucked Elain and I wouldn’t, ever! I don’t understand…I’ve been here with Cass all day.”
“He really has, Rhys. There’s got to be something else going on here…I don’t know what y/n thinks she saw or heard, but it wasn’t Azriel.”
Rhys cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to get home. I need to get to the bottom of this. But this is not over, Azriel! Even if you didn’t use her or cheat on her! You should’ve never even put your hands on her in the first place!”
“Alright, that’s enough!” Cassian pushed him back. “One thing at a time. I think finding out why y/n saw what she did is more important right now!”
Rhys glared at Cassian but backed off. He shot Azriel another scathing look before disappearing into the darkness, winnowing away.
“I need to go, Cass. I need to see her, need to tell her that whatever she saw wasn’t true. I don’t care if you hate me now too, but I won’t let you stop me from going to her.”
“I don’t hate you, Az, but fuck, what were you thinking? I warned you not to hurt his sister,” Cassian sighed, before holding a hand out. “Take me with you.”
Azriel grabbed Cassian’s hand before shadow walking to the River House. The foyer came into view a second later.
Feyre was there examining Rhys’s bloodied knuckles. She peaked over at them as they appeared, her eyes widening as she caught sight of Azriel’s face.
“I tracked down Elain,” Feyre spoke. “She wasn’t even here this morning. She spent the night at Lucien’s apartment.”
She whispered the last part, glancing at Azriel but he wasn’t even paying attention. His eyes were on the staircase that led to Rhys’s sister’s room. He needed to get to her, needed to make sure she knew whatever she had seen wasn’t real.
“Don’t even think about it,” Rhys snapped, his violet eyes glaring into Azriel. “Mor is with her right now. You stay down here, in my sight, until this is dealt with! Don’t think this has absolved you of anything.”
“Rhys, stop,” Feyre barked. “Now is not the time. Can you remember what your sister showed you? Was there anything weird about the memory?”
Rhys let out a frustrated breath. “No—I don’t know. I was too angry to even think.”
“Well, we need to go talk to her,” Feyre said. “Have her show you the memory again. I don’t know how but someone must’ve planted it or something.”
“Why would someone do that?” Cassian questioned. “Who knew that her and Azriel even had a thing together and would try and get in between it?”
Azriel was stewing in his own thoughts, pacing in front of the fireplace. He couldn’t stand this. Couldn’t stand knowing you were upset thinking he had cheated on you and used you for Elain. 
“Azriel,” Rhys barked. “Did anyone else know about the two of you? You better be fucking honest or I swear—”
“You’re not being helpful by being angry right now, Rhys,” Feyre cut in.
Azriel racked his brain for anyone who might have known they were together. They had been careful but there was one person…
“Cedric,” Azriel answered. “Cedric knew we were together. He knew she turned down his proposal because of me.”
“The Prince?” Cassian asked. 'Wait, you and y/n have been seeing each other since you traveled to the continent?"
"Cassian, not the time," Feyre snarled again.
Azriel could tell Rhys’s mind was racing with his thoughts and he too, paced back and forth. 
“Fuck,” Rhys suddenly cursed loudly, causing Feyre to jump. “The Prince…his family’s magic specializes in illusions. Could he have…but how? Why?”
“Maybe he’s upset she rejected him,” Feyre suggested. “You need to go talk to her. You need to look into that memory again, see if you can poke through it.”
“He can’t talk to her,” Mor said, walking down the stairs and drawing everyone’s attention. “She left for the continent an hour ago. I was packing some of her stuff for her to send over.”
“What? You let her leave?” Rhys shouted. “Where did she go?”
Mor narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t let her do anything. She’s a grown female, Rhys. She went to Vallahan. I guess Prince Cedric said his doors were always open for her and she wanted to get away.”
Rhys cursed again. “No, no! Fuck, Mor! You had one fucking job! Not to let her out of your sight!”
“Well, sorry! I didn’t know we were considering the possibility that someone has been making her see things! She wanted to go and I wasn’t going to stop her.”
“We need to go,” Feyre interjected. “If it is the Prince who caused all of this, then who knows what he’ll do to her now that she’s back over there! He might manipulate her into marrying him.”
“Everyone needs to calm down,” Cassian said. “I have a question. So maybe the Prince knows about her and Azriel, but that doesn’t explain how he knew the background between Azriel and Elain.”
Something clicked in Azriel’s head. “Her journal. Fuck, her journal has been missing. He must’ve stolen it when we were at his castle. You said she left an hour ago, Mor?”
Mor nodded, her mouth in a tight line. 
“Shit. That means she’s probably there already,” Azriel growled. “I’m going. I’m leaving right now and I’m going to get her back.”
“No you’re not,” Rhys ordered. “I’ll go and bring her back.”
“We can all go,” Feyre snapped. “Go get in your fighting gear just in case. We’ll meet back here in fifteen minutes so we can go save y/n from that Prince.”
Azriel didn’t need to be told twice.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You brushed your tears away, not wanting anyone to see you had been crying. The castle came into view and you hurried forward, eager to get inside and away from watchful eyes. 
You had written a quick letter to Cedric asking if you could visit and he had readily replied with a yes. You needed to get out of the Night Court, needed to get as far away from Azriel as you could.
Your heart was broken, snapped into a million pieces. Your throat was hoarse from sobbing the past few hours. Your entire world had collapsed and you had never felt such despair.
The castle doors finally came into sight, a group of soldiers standing guard with Cedric. He smiled brightly at you as you walked forward.
“Princess! I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon,” he greeted. “Please, come inside!”
You greeted him with a smile, scurrying inside the castle. You turned to face him. “Thank you for letting me come on such short notice, Cedric. I—”
“Seize her.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, at the coldness in his tone. Before you could react, the soldiers surged forward and grabbed you by the arms. You let out a scream, trying to wiggle from their hold as they snapped a pair of faebane handcuffs around your wrists.
“Cedric! What—what are you doing? Let me go!”
Cedric gave you a menacing smile. “You know, I thought this might take a little longer, getting you to come back here. Who knew your insecurities about the shadowsinger ran so deep? I’ll have to send him a thank you after all of this.”
“What are you talking about? Why…unhand me, now! This is…Cedric, what is this? Let me go!”
The soldiers dragged you forward as Cedric stood in front of the doors, hands behind his back looking quite pleased with himself. “Oh no, there is someone very important I need you to meet.”
He grabbed you by the upper arm and a second later, the familiar feeling of winnowing whisked you away.
You landed on soft ground, right beside a lake. Your eyes widened on the shack that sat in the middle of it. 
“Cedric, please! Let me go!”
You tried to wiggle out of your restraints but the guards held you with unflinching strength. You let out a tiny scream as a figure emerged from the water. A figure made of smoke.
“Hello, Princess,” Koschei purred. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
a/n: ooppp sorry for all the rage/upset I might've caused you with this one. The series is coming to a close though! Two more parts and an epilogue is what I have planned rn! Thank you guys for all your support!
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shu-porang-porang · 8 months
Text
Love Me Until I Love Myself
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♡♡♡ Minho wants to make sure you know he loves you ♡♡♡
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader
Rating: Explicit
Theme: Angst, Fluff, Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.
Warnings: oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), reader is insecure and doesn't like herself
Word count: 3 k
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You and your boyfriend are on the ride back home from an awards show after party. It was exhausting. You used to think they must be fun, getting to chat and party with celebrities, but nope. You’re not built for this. You wonder how he could do it, especially after performing those taxing choreos. You could never. All night he was so bubbly and cheerful, while you tried to hide in shadows and attract as little attention as possible. Well, it’s not like people cared about you anyway, you were an outsider, a peasant who was offered a chance at a royal ball.
Halfway through it you questioned why you even accepted to participate, and then right away, you remembered why. Another girl approached him, congratulating him on their win and talking about memories you weren’t a part of, laughing at inside jokes you couldn’t understand. Of course, he would be comfortable with these girls, they’re coworkers after all! He’s known some of them for ages, way before you guys met, and of course you had no right to tell him to stay away from them or anything. The best you could do was to stick around, so the girls were aware of you as his girlfriend, or he knew you were there, lest he decided to do something naughty with one of them...
You know you’re being unreasonable; you know he’s loyal, and they’re just friends, some of them are even like his little sisters, but you can’t get these thoughts out of your head. Your insecurities won’t let you. After all, those girls are famous idols, loved by millions, always so dolled up and pretty, acting cute and shit. You think it’s just a matter of time before Minho realizes the timid plain you ain’t good enough for a star like him. Although he always fondly smiles at your dorky made up dance moves, you think some performer who could actually dance and shared his passion for dancing would be more appealing to him. You feel you lack a lot, and you can’t justify why someone like him would be interested in someone like you.
You feel pathetic. You let out a sigh subconsciously and Minho gently puts a hand on your thigh, asking if you’re ok. You reply with a nod and a weak smile. You’re afraid if you try to talk, tears may spill. His hand remains on your thigh, so you hold it to calm yourself down. His soft hand that you love so much. You love everything about him, you’re crazy about him. You wish you didn’t love him so much, then he couldn’t one day break your heart. You wish you were another person, well, you wished that almost your entire life until you met him. Having him, convinced you that you were alright, the person who you were and hated for so long, was the same person who got you to him, so it was alright. But here you are again, doubting yourself. You think you’re just broken and can never be fully fixed. So maybe it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to stick with you…
You arrive at Minho’s place. You moved in with him a few months back, so it’s technically your place too, but you don’t dare to indulge yourself in that idea, you think you don’t deserve it, you’ll lose it soon, so better to not get attached, but it’s already too late.
Home, at last. As soon as you enter, you are greeted by the cats. Minho picks one up cooing at it. You walk past by him into the bedroom. You just wanna rid yourself of the party attire and go to sleep, right now the only thing that could stop your train of horrible thoughts is sleep.
Minho joins you soon after, walks towards you and wraps his arms around you from behind as you’re taking your jewelry off in front of the mirror. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent.
“Hey let go, I’m tired. Just wanna get out of this dress and go to bed.”
“But I want you to stay in this dress a bit longer. You looked so pretty tonight, babe” he leaves kisses on your exposed shoulder that make your breath hitch in your throat. But you’re still upset about the bleak night you had.
“Oh, is that why you spent the whole time talking to other girls while I was sitting right there?” Your bottled up emotions force you to blurt out.
He lifts his head up, looking you in the eyes through the mirror. His expression is baffled, he’s trying to figure out what he did wrong.
“What are you talking about? I thought we had a nice time there!”
“Well, you obviously had, giggling with them all night.”
You try to break free from his arms but he won’t budge.
“Hey! You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s exactly wrong.”
You try to form sentences that would explain why you’re feeling like this, but you feel stupid for bringing it up in the first place. You break into tears as you’re tired and helpless and don’t even know how to make sense of your feelings. Silent tears start streaming down your cheeks, you’re never one to sob loudly. Worries written all over his face.
“Baby tell me. What did I do? Did someone say something to you?”
You shake your head “no”. He lifts you up and carries you to bed, sitting you on his lap. You show no resistance, your hands are balled up on your lap and your head is down, trying to cover your crying face with the lose strands of your hair, which he tucks behind your ear immediately. His thumb is caressing your tear-stricken cheek. His other hand is soothingly massaging your thigh.
“It’s okay baby, you can talk to me. Please. It really hurts me to see you like this and not be able to do anything about it. Tell me what’s wrong sweetie. We’re gonna fix it together.”
You don’t wanna hurt him. Hurting him is the last thing you would do. So, you try to fight the tears and speak.
“I… seeing you tonight… the girls all pretty and talented… the things you have in common… how close you are… I wonder… how long… till you realize……….”
“Till I realize what baby?”
“I’m not… good enough” your voice is shaky, again on the verge of tears.
He’s in disbelief. His mouth slightly agape in shock. His grip on your waist tightens.
“Why would you even think that?” he says as if asking himself, not really waiting for a response from you.
His brows are furrowed. He’s thinking to himself.
“I get it now. You were sitting right there, and I kept talking to other people as if you weren’t. But I just thought you weren’t taking part in conversations coz you didn’t want to be bothered… but you actually felt excluded from them. Is that right?”
“Almost. That alone wasn’t a problem, but it made me think you deserve to be with someone who’s more like them and less like me…”
“Woah! Where did you get that from?”
“You’re too good for me… it can’t be right. I’m afraid you’re wasting your time with me…”
“Hey! You don’t get to decide that for me! Do you think I couldn’t have any of those girls if I wanted? The thing is, I don’t want them, I want you.”
“Why do you even love me? Even I can’t love myself…”
“Where should I begin? I love everything about you, and I make that my first priority from now on, to make you see all the things I love in you, and to make you love them too.” He finishes his sentence with a soft kiss on your collarbone.
He plants a few more kisses on the expanse of your chest before pulling back and looking into your glossy eyes. You give him a thankful smile as your hands reach for his nape and pull him in for a kiss. His lips feel like heaven against yours, soft and plump. The kiss starts with languid movements of your mouths. Neither of you are in a hurry, you both need to savor this moment. He drags his tongue on your bottom lip and you let it in. As your tongues are dancing, the temperature rises. His hand that was on your waist, travels up to grope at your clothed breast, the other hand is tangled in your hair, keeping your head in place for him to abuse your lips.
He lays you on your back on the bed, momentarily disconnecting your lips which makes you whimper in loss. It encourages him to get back to kissing with even more fervor. His hands are pulling the straps of your dress down, trying to gain access to your breasts. He trails kisses down your jaw and across the column of your neck, to your shoulders and collarbone. They alternate between feather like pecks to purplish hickeys. He can’t decide what he wants. He wants it all, he wants all of you, he can’t get enough.
He stops to admire his work of art. A hand cups your cheek gently which you lean into, closing your eyes.
“You’re so perfect baby,” He plants a kiss to your forehead. “Even in my wildest imaginations I couldn’t picture someone this pretty,” Another kiss to your nose. “Inside and out.”
You open your eyes to see his lovingly stare back. You pull him in for another taste of his lips.
“So, do you still wanna get rid of this dress?”
“I do, if you want to.”
“As gorgeous as you look, I can’t wait to see what’s underneath.”
He takes it off and your left in nothing but your black lace panties. You tug at his dress shirt, signaling him to take it off too, which he complies, followed by the unbuckling of his belt and his pants follow suit.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I want you to never forget that.” He says as he hovers over you once again. You open your arms to invite him into your hug. He lowers his body onto yours, slightly circling his hips against your crotch. You feel him twitch in his boxers.
“We don’t have to do it if you’re not in the mood, you know.” He says searching your eyes.
“I want it baby, I need you, I really do.” You say as your hands are mapping his toned chest.
With a little smirk on his lips, he goes back to business. He kisses your chest, right above your racing heart, then latches his mouth to your left nipple. He sucks and bites at it till its raw, while trying to give the same amount of attention to the right one between his fingers. You squirm beneath him as your nipples get too sensitive and can’t handle more. He gets the cue and snaps out of his uncontrollable desire to ruin them. Instead, he gives them both kitten licks and pecks in turn, to compensate for the rough treatment they just received.
Moving down your naval, he’s all soft and sweet with butterfly kisses, loving pecks and whispering sweet nothings in between. He’s slotted between your thighs as he reaches your core. Eyes darting up to ask for your permission one last time before he’s completely unstoppable. You give him a nod and he places a kiss to your clothed mound. He teases by nudging his nose to your clit and licking a stripe from your hole to it. Tasting the arousal leaking through the fabric, he lets out a satisfied hum that sends shivers up your spine. You’re growing impatient but he’s taking his sweet time with peppering your inner thighs with kisses and hickeys. You feel more of your juices flowing out and you buck your hips up.
“Stay still princess. Let me take care of you, hm?”
“Minho… please…” You whine. You trust him that he’ll take good care of you, but you can’t wait anymore.
He finally gets rid of your panties and the cool air hits your pussy, followed by warm puffs of his breath.
“So pretty… all mine” He says before diving down and starting to make out with your pussy lips. The lewd noises that fill the room make you forget why you were even upset earlier. The only thing you don’t like about this moment is how little pressure he’s putting on your clit, enough to keep your juices flowing, but not enough to make them gush out all at once. You’re a moaning mess, your fingers pulling at his roots, trying to keep his face close to your core. He’s finally sucking at your clit, suddenly the pleasure gets overwhelming as he inserts two fingers inside you. You feel the knot in your stomach tightening to a snap. A few more strokes of his tongue and your coming undone. Your thighs shake around his head, one of his hands comes up to fondle your breast, his mouth still attached to your core, drinking the elixir of life straight from the fountain. He waits for you to ride your orgasm before he crawls back on top and gives you a taste of yourself. His mouth and chin are glistening with your juices. What a sight to see! You feel extremely lucky to be the one who caused this scene.
“That was …amazing… Thank you” you say while trying to find the normal rhythm of your breath.
“I told you I know how to take care of my girl.”
“Now it’s your turn.” You push him on his back and now you’re on top.
First thing you do is taking his boxers off and finally freeing his aching cock. You wonder how he managed to focus on pleasuring you while he was this hard. The sight alone makes you all turned on again. You thought you’d need more time to build a second orgasm, but you’re already throbbing.
Now it’s your turn to mark him, to shower him with kisses, to try and pour as much love as possible onto your every touch. Starting from the sensitive spot on his neck, you know you can’t mark him here, still you suck it a bit harsher than you should. You leave open-mouthed kisses all over his chest and where it is safe, give him a few hickeys too. You lovingly kiss the scar on his abdomen, the fact that it’s another thing that only a few have seen and you’re one of those few, is really endearing to you.
His member is twitching between your bodies. You slide your wet pussy on it, earning a groan from him. You decide he deserves a quicker release, so you stop grinding to hold it and align it with your entrance but he stops you.
“Wait baby. Let me do it.” He says as he’s stopping your hips from moving.
You’re confused but you go with it. He gets on top again.
“Tonight is about showing my baby how much I love her.” He says with a fond smile.
“I wanna make sure everything feels good for you.” He puts a pillow under your hips to gain a better angle. He inserts the two fingers from before in your pussy, checking how wet you are and scissoring them to loosen the muscles.
“Minnie I’m fine… it’s not my first time…” you try to say in between gasps as his fingers alone are doing wonders inside of you.
“Oh but it is sweetheart. I’m gonna love you all over again.” He inserts a third finger.
“Gonna make sure to give you all the love you deserve.”
He clashes his lips to yours as he replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock. The stretch is pleasant, you want more of it. You moan in his mouth as he slowly inches inside you until he finally bottoms out. He stays still, your warmth engulfing him, turns his brains to mush.
He whispers in your ear: “I love you so much”
He starts moving as he nibs at your earlobe, giving you words of praise now and then. Your arms wrap impossibly tight around his shoulders, leaving no space between your chests.
He slowly picks up his pace. Your nails are digging to his biceps now. Beautiful moans fill the room. His lips won’t leave your skin for more than 3 seconds. He pats down your left arm till he reaches your hand and your fingers intertwine as if they have brains of their own. He pins it above your head and his other hand is beside your head, supporting his weight as his movements get faster and less precise.
“ ’m close…” you manage to let out.
“Go ahead… I’m right… behind you”
A few more thrusts and you’re second orgasm hits you as your head falls back and your eyes screw shut, his name like a prayer on your lips. You’ve made a habit out of saying his name every time you came or it wouldn’t feel right.
As your walls convulse around him, he can’t hold it back anymore. Ropes of white hot liquid paint your walls. He collapses on top of you. He tries to pull out but you stop him.
“Wanna stay connected to you a bit more…” You wish you could merge with him into one person, but having him inside a bit longer, would do too.
His head finds its place in the crook of your neck. One of your hands is in his hair and the other is resting on his back. You whisper a “I love you” to his hair and kiss the top of his head and he lets out a sigh. You don’t want this moment to end. If he can love you this much, maybe you should give it a try too.
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disneyprincemuke · 5 months
Text
i forgot that you existed * sv5
you didn't expect to run into your ex ever again, yet here you are and you find yourself pretending like you'd never met him before.
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!reader
trope: fake amnesia
wc: 1.4k
(f1 masterlist) | (falling in reverse)
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you hide behind a display in the middle of the supermarket, stacked boxes keeping you somewhat hidden from the man you’ve stalked the moment you got out of your car in the parking lot. you keep your head down to avoid getting recognised back.
an uncanny lookalike of the man you swore was the love of your life stepped out of the car parked next to yours and it’s like you’ve been in a trance ever since. you can’t tear your eyes away from the man now sauntering within the supermarket with a basket hanging from his arms loosely.
because you know that you packed everything up and moved halfway across the world when you thought you’d go crazy from the reality that he’d left you at the altar — on your wedding day.
it’s been 5 years since he watched you walk down the aisles of a church with your shared friends and families covered in a white dress that took you 2 months to choose. an entire lifetime ago since you had taken one last step up to the altar before he had run in the direction you came from and never be seen again.
in the back of your mind, you remember the way it felt like life had lost all its meaning after that day. life started to grey itself out as the living soul was sucked out of your body.
all for him to relay a message through his parents, thoroughly embarrassed to tell you that all the man could muster up was a pathetic and humiliating apology: ‘i’m sorry’.
he’s sorry? that’s all he could say to you after spending — wasting — 6 years of your life with him, planning your future and ending it abruptly on the day you were supposed to vow that you’d spend the rest of your lives together.
you’d daydreamed several times about the things you would say to him if you’d ever chanced upon running into him again. it went several different ways: sometimes you thought about throwing punches for making you question everything or falling to your knees in tears asking him how and why he could do this to you, and sometimes the scenario goes in a way that he’s the one begging you for an apology at your feet and saying that he regrets it.
the days seemed to pass by slowly and painfully after he’d left you. but you just remembered waking up one morning and hating the way your reflection stared at you in the mirror.
you were a mess.
so you packed your things and left everything behind — you moved halfway across the world and started anew. you haven’t regretted that decision.
and what are the chances that you’d run into sebastian in an obscure supermarket on the other side of the globe half a decade later? you had left your hometown for this very possibility only for it to happen much later in life at a time you would never have expected.
now that you’re stalking him (unstealthily), everything you’d sworn that you would say to him is thrown out of the window.
you follow him into an aisle and linger at the edge of the aisle, feigning interest in the baking goods displayed neatly on the shelves. you pick up an item and drop your head to look at it, though your eyes can’t help but trail up to the man standing on the other end of the aisle.
it really is him. no matter how much reasoning you do with yourself, there’s no denying that sebastian vettel is standing in the very same property as you for the first time since the unfortunate demise of your relationship.
you seriously consider walking up to him and clocking him in the face then bolting away. because you know — used to — him and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw back a punch.
sebastian turns his head in your direction abruptly, making you whirl back around to the shelf in front of you. and then it happens.
you hear your name being called out by a voice you’d longed to hear after all these years.
you start to panic. you consider all of the possible options to escape the situation. maybe you still have time to start running? it’s just a supermarket; there’s several others everywhere else. you can just start doing your grocery shopping elsewhere.
ah, but this is the biggest supermarket closest to you and it’s got everything you need.
but as sebastian slowly approaches you, you find your mouth speaking faster than your head could process. “do i know you?”
do i know you? where the hell did that come from?
sebastian stops a a distance from you, jaw hung as he tilts his head at your words. “what?”
you swallow the formed lump in your throat as you look at him, wide eyed and hands balled into fists by your side. perhaps you should just pretend that he’s got the wrong person.
yet it seems that your mouth will continue to run without your brain. “yeah, i got into an accident a couple of years ago. it affected my memory.” you smile slightly. “did i know you?”
you watch as he tries to find a response to what you’ve just said. and he’s better than you, you think, because he still managed to find something to say. “accident? i’m so sorry.” you wave off his concerns with a hand in the air and a shake of your head. “we, uh,” he sucks in a breath, “used to be really good friends.”
good friends. men really are liars.
“oh, what a shame,” you say with a grimace, as if you mean it. as if you don’t actually remember the way he’d made you feel small. “how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face. i haven’t seen you in any photo albums.”
you start to think that your mouth has a mind of its own. you swear that you’ve seen a movie with this exact plot: feigning memory loss to avoid the real consequences of running into someone from your past life. or it could just be a result of all your panic.
because he is in every single photo album you’d brought along with you. there’s holes in those albums, photos with sebastian now sitting in a box in the store room of your little apartment, in the deepest corner where it cannot be acquired without hardwork.
you lie again with a soft laugh. “when i was told my memory was completely wiped from my accident, i took off in an attempt to start again. but how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face again.”
sebastian stands there in silence for a moment. “i’d really love to catch up some time,” sebastian offers with a small smile. “find out about this new life you have and everything.”
you feel an insurmountable rage fill your chest. your chest feels heavy and your head starts to pound.
you should really just start running back to your car now.
“that would be a great idea!” what the hell. that’s literally not what you had meant to say. you were considering laying it on him and screaming at him in the middle of the supermarket. it’s just so unfair that he stands here acting like he hadn’t driven you to the brink of insanity in your 20s.
“fantastic!” sebastian grins fishing for his phone in the pocket of his jacket. “let me get your number so we can find a day we’re both free? i have to head back to finish unpacking my boxes — i just relocated here for work recently.”
“what are the chances,” you joke through gritted teeth, typing your number into the contact sheet he’d pulled up for you. you should just run now with his phone and throw it into the lake nearby. “well, it’s nice running into you. i’ll hopefully see you soon!” you perk up and turn around. “sorry, i didn’t catch your name earlier.”
he grins, “it’s sebastian.”
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gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @localwhoore @namgification
series taglist: @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @lozzamez3 @haikyuu-carat @bicchaan @cinnamongirlontv
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rimunagenius · 5 months
Text
It Was Doomed From The Start
ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader
ʚ word count: 3.1k words
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , stalking, harassment, angst, self reflection (this topic scares me…don’t judge), fluff ofc bc it’s Kate
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: i know the title looks scary, but i promise, it’s nothing bad with Kate and reader. I wouldn’t write angst for them for this story not yet atleast I also wanted to introduce what Kate has reader under in her phone and i’ve also been thinking about adding one shots about how Kate and reader came up with the nicknames for eachother or little one shots of them before or during the events written about in the series (stuff that didn’t make it to the fic)…if i do they’ll be on the series masterlist but let me know if you’d like to see that!! anyways…here’s the long awaited part three!
Part 3
| Series Masterlist |
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"C'mon, it's time to get up, sleeping beauty." There was no beauty in how you were currently knocked out in Kate's bed. Your hair is all over your face and pillow; with parts sticking up due to the lack of hairstyle before going to sleep.
You had your mouth slightly open, quietly breathing through it. You needed this sleep. You usually slept way more appealing but this—this was your well-needed catch up on weeks' worth of rest. "Y/n...y/n. C'mon. We have to get ready." Kate leaned over the bed, a hand on your hip, softly attempting to shake you awake. A string of muffled and incoherent curse words left your mouth as you pulled the comforter over your head.
Curling in on yourself to make yourself small and generate more heat. It was a pretty cold morning in Iowa City. "I don't wanna." You whined under the blanket. Eliciting a small giggle from the blonde, she crawled into the bed, almost spooning you before speaking to you softly.
"Well we have to, sunshine. We have classes, and if you still want to eat breakfast, I suggest you get up now." She flipped the comforter off your head, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. "C'mon, let's go." She gave your arm light taps before she then gripped it and started to pull you out of her bed.
"We should not have stayed up so late last night. It's your fault. I blame you.” You pointed in her face, your hair everywhere and eyes closed, preventing her from taking you seriously. “You kept doing that thing you do with your mouth." You mumbled as you now were standing right infront of your roommate, eyes looking up at her, your mascara under your eyes.
"Sorry I was having a good time. From what I remember you didn't want me to stop." She looked at you, wiping some of the mascara fall out away, giving you a bright smile before walking you towards the bathroom.
"Kate, we were drinking and you know that trick is only funny when we're both under the influence. If you would've stopped messing around, we could've finished both movies at a decent hour. I literally fell asleep in your bed and halfway through the movie." You say as you look at her through the mirror, narrowing your eyes before cleaning your mascara and whatever makeup you had on.
She raised her arms in defense, "I mean, what can I say? I'm the life of the party, baby." She said before placing herself on the counter. "Oh, and I already made waffles and yours are on the counter." She sat and watched your do your whole routine, her legs swinging a little every now and then.
"Yes?" You looked at her as you placed a refreshed coat of mascara on your lashes. You could see her staring. She's been doing that a lot lately. It made you feel warm inside and you wouldn’t lie and say you haven’t been doing it more recently also.
"Nothing. Just watching you." She smiled softly as she watched you do your makeup. A small blush casting over both your cheeks. You both knew what it was.
"Okay, creep." You side eyed her before giving her your best smile, just to prove you were being playful.
"Haha. Funny." Kate mocked you, lightly kicking her foot against the side of your thigh.
"Kate? Can you do me a favor?" You looked at your best friend, her blue eyes immediately meeting yours. She nodded her head quickly, eyes trained in yours immediately trying to read your face for anything wrong.
"Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?" She picked up on your nervous look. You sighed, looking down.
"Nick’s still weirding me out, so I wanted to know if you could walk back here to come get me after your class and take me to my next one? I just don't want to be on campus alone with him being around." You looked nervous, almost as if you had a feeling she'd say no. Of course Kate didn't, though. You still haven’t told her about not even going to report him in the first place.
"Yeah, for sure. I can do that. I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"
"Yeah. Okay, thank you. It's just for this class and my next two and then Hannah can take me to practice later." You watched Kate's face soften.
"Y/n, you know i'd take you to every class. It's not an inconvenience. Whatever you need, I got you." She hugged you before saying a small goodbye and watched you walk inside your class while she waited outside.
You went inside and sat down, your phone pinging with a new message.
bear <3
be safe, ily.❤️
sunshine☀️💕
ilym😘
'bear <3 loved "ilym😘"' 
The class went smoothly, you walked outside to see Kate standing, waiting for you. She must have left class sooner to be here on time to not make you wait. God, you were so grateful for this girl.
She walked you to every class before you had anatomy. So far, Nick hasn't spotted you, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. You didn’t want to put it past him to find you, but for right now, you were taking the win. As you finally made it to anatomy, Juliana had been waiting outside.
You and Kate had been laughing about something she said when you looked over and saw Juliana watching you both, a smile on her face. "Oh, Kate. This is my friend Juliana, the one who's helping me with the girlfriend thing." You introduced your two friends, them shaking one another's hands.
"Hi, I'm Kate. Nice to meet you." Kate greeted, a friendly smile on her face.
"Oh, I know who your are. Y/n has said so many great things about you. You're almost all she talks about in here." Your face immediately grew red. You hadn't realized you talked about Kate so much. Did you really?
Kate looked down at you and smiled. A small blush rising to her cheeks. "Does she now?" She asked teasingly.
"Yeah, she's always going on about how such a great friend you are. How good you are to her. Makes me jealous." She jokingly added, before chatting Kate up some more. You didn't know what it was but something about Juliana being overly excited about talking to Kate, Kate being engaged in the conversation, was something that made a pit grow in your stomach.
You had no idea why two of your friends talking gave you a sense of jealously. It was frankly ridiculous. Shaking the totally absurd assumptions of this otherwise normal interaction out of your head, you looked down at your phone. A new notification from a random account on instagram.
The picture less profile, what seemed to be a randomly generated username had sent you a message. Clicking the message, you immediately felt a ball in your throat form. Suddenly your knees felt like they would give up and the world would swallow you whole from right where you were standing.
maybe you should make her leave…
this won’t be good for you.
she’s not good for you.
make her leave.
it won’t be good for her either.
You looked around, trying to find who had sent it. They had to have been talking about Kate. You knew who it was, just thing to find him to justify that you weren’t absolutely going crazy and imagining this whole thing.
“Hey, you okay?” Kate looked at you, her eyes scanning every inch of your flushed face, her worry growing by the second.
“Yeah, I’m totally fine. I’m just going to walk into class.” You swalllowed before you looked around once more, suddenly seeing him. Lurking at a nearby a table, hat on, just staring right at you. He was sitting a healthy distance away, but watching your every move. Watching Kate. You couldn’t take this.
You hadn’t realized you had been staring, Kate followed your stare and saw him too. Juliana wrapping her arm around your shoulder, kissing the top of your head. You instantly regretted not being able to sell that you were unbothered, due to Kate starting to walk over to Nick.
“Kate! Don’t. I don’t need you talking to him.” You grabbed her arm, and pleaded with her.
“He’s obviously making you very uncomfortable. I thought you told someone about him already. What did he even say?” You did not have the heart to tell her that you let this man harass you for weeks just because you didn’t want to have any conflict. It wasn’t the best decision but it saved a lot of people trouble and you didn’t want to be inconvenience with this stupid thing. You could handle it. You could handle him.
“Kate, I was going to I swear. But I just forgot. You going up to him and telling him off isn’t going to make it better. Trust me. I do not want him to harass or hurt you too. ” You were getting super overwhelmed. Your eyes burning, your vision going blurry, eyes watering.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Juliana said, rubbing her arms up and down your arms. She didn’t have the first clue of what to do other than report this. She just didn’t want to do it without your permission. It was wrong, but it wasn’t her place.
“Hey, can you give us a moment?” Kate asked her. Juliana nodded and walked inside the class but not without staring Nick down before doing so.
“Hey, look. I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to get all riled up over this. But you do need to tell someone, baby.” Her face dropped and immediately started turning red. She should’ve caught herself. It just slipped. You hadn’t noticed because you were avoiding looking anywhere and seeing him.
You hadn’t picked up on the name. Trying to focus on what she was actually saying instead of thinking of all the ways Nick could harm Kate. What did he mean by ‘it won’t be good for her either’ ? All you could think about was her safety.
“I’m sorry, what?” You looked up at Kate, your brows furrowing. Suddenly feeling the biggest migraine come on.
Kate’s face relaxed, sighing before grabbing your face. “I was just saying that we should go report him, and i’ll take you home. I’ll tell coach we caught something and don’t want to get the team sick. We—I just need to get you out of here. Okay? Can you do that for me?” Her eyes stared into yours, wordlessly pleading with you to choose your safety over thinking you’re a burden to someone else.
You nodded, looking behind her to see that Nick had left. He was gone. That’s when you felt a hand grab yours, fingers interlocking. Kate. Immediately you felt more relaxed, more safe. At home. No one could hurt you when you were with the people you loved and cared for. Who cared for you. The team, your friends, were your home. Kate was your home. Your anchor.
Nothing could hurt you, and you were going to do it together. Sending a quick text to Juliana, letting her know the situation, you and Kate started walking to the deans office. Kate sat with you, held your hand, and made sure you were comfortable while telling the dean everything Nick had done to you and said he’d do over the course of the two and a half years you had been here.
It was extensive. It started off so small that you didn’t notice that he slowly integrated into your life. He was obsessed with you. Stalking you. You didn’t realize until it was too late—til it got bad. You and Kate had found out he was a transfer, changing his whole major and career plan to follow yours. He had been to 6 different universities in the last 3 years due to ‘personal’ issues.
Turns out every formal complaint had been waived and disproven. You weren’t the only woman he’s done this to. It was crazy to think that of the many women, the countless evidence of severe mental disorders and psychotic behavior and harassment, he was still allowed into many other universities, was able to appeal the accusations and allowed to leave it behind him.
Kate was in better words, fuming. Her and the dean had gone at it, you trying to mediate before the dean resulted to benching her for her last season. You guys had been in the deans office for about 2 hours. Leaving just in time to send a text to Coach Bluder that you’d both be in absence at practice today.
You two had been walking, still hand in hand, back to your guys’ apartment. “Kate are you sure you want to miss practice today?” You looked at her, eyes still a little bloodshot from the crying you had done. “I can totally just go home alone and say I just didn’t feel good. I’m not on the team, you are.” She still looked upset and very irritated at the situation. She hasn’t said much since you both left. The second you spoke, her face softened. You tended to do that a lot; you changed her mood. Her mood affects yours and yours hers. And only you two could fix it for the other.
“And leave you alone? On campus where a crazy guy is stalking you and making you feel uncomfortable and unsafe? No way. I’d miss as many practices as you needed me to.” She smiled at you, squeezing your hand, before letting it go, and settling for wrapping her arm around your shoulders.
“Thank you, Kate. Seriously. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” You leaned your head on her, arriving at your apartment.
“Of course. Anything for my favorite girl.” She kissed the top of your head, smiling to herself. She was grateful to have you in her life, she needed you just as much, probably more, than you needed her.
You both helped and healed things in eachother more over the last two and a half years of knowing eachother than anyone had for you both in your guys’ entire lives. “You didn’t do anything to deserve me, you know? Anyone would be lucky to have someone like you. Someone as kind, beautiful, smart, loving, caring, and gorgeous as you. Oh, did i mention you were pretty?” Kate laughed, her cheeks growing pinker by the second.
“Okay, Kate.” You laughed as she unlocked the front door, letting you walk in first. “Thank you. I appreciate you, and I feel the absolute same about you. Any girl who gets you, is the luckiest girl alive.” You smiled at her as you sat the on the couch, her in the kitchen grabbing you both water.
She smiled at you, before you turned to turn the TV on. When you looked away, her smile faltered. You looked at the tv, thinking about what she said. What you had said. You both cared for eachother so deeply. You couldn’t possibly be catching feelings for Kate. Was what you said too obvious…? You had known her for a long time, she was your best friend. That could ruin everything.
Could it? I mean, Kate thought about it over and over, watching your from the kitchen. The way your lips curled slightly when you watched the same reruns of your favorite shows. The way you always sat in the same spot on the couch, next to hers, leaving the perfect amount of room for her but also not enough so that you guys would be touching.
It was hard for the both of you to think this way about the person you have shared a space with for so long. Your roommate. Your best friend. You both needed to figure this out. But it was hard. You couldn’t possibly harbour feelings for the one person you both told yourself not to when this arrangement came to be.
Maybe that should’ve been the first sign. The sign that this living situation was doomed from the moment it was thought into existence; it was doomed from the start. How could you possibly set that boundary, silently in your guys’ head, that you guys couldn’t catch feelings. It would only have meant that you both could’ve seen this coming. I mean, neither one of you turned a blind eye to the other being attractive. Let alone, being eachothers type.
Kate brought you both the waters. Setting them down on the coffee table infront of you. Sitting down in her spot, next to you. You leaned your head on her shoulder almost instantly. Whether you had feelings for her or not, the comfort Kate had brought you was something you couldn’t describe. The need to have the feeling of Kate next to you seemingly growing worse with the feelings.
The familiarity was something you haven’t known since back home. So you essentially chased the feeling whenever you could have it. “Thank you for being there for me, Kate. I mean, truly. I already said it, but thank you.” Snuggling a little closer, bring one knee to your chest.
“Anytime, you know that. I’d do anything for you,” Her voice grew quieter at the end of her sentence. She meant it. “Besides, you’d be completely lost without me, sunshine. You need me.” She smiled when you landed a soft playful smack across her chest. She reached her arm over your shoulders, making you more comfortable.
“You’re right, I do.” You laughed before turning your attention to the TV. You both watched TV the rest of the night, deciding that you’d worry about the Nick thing more tomorrow. The dean telling you that it’d be handled very soon and quickly as possible. So, it was tomorrows problem.
As you both watched TV, you both thought over the fact you may be inlove with your best friend. It may be real and you’d both have to find a way to either move on or deal with it.
And fast.
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fadedncity · 1 year
Text
give me the greenlight
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wc: 19.0k…y'all i genuinely don't know how
pairing: mark x fem!reader
cw: smut, street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, non idol au, college au, lil angst, fluff, mention of other idols, slight allusions to a toxic ex, alcohol consumption, use of marijuana, mark's lowkey a big flirt, switch!mark, switch!reader, auralism, thigh riding, dirty talk, pet names, praising, teasing, marking, fingering, semi public sex, car sex, oral sex (giving/receiving), exhibitionism (barely), multiple orgasms, protected sex, aftercare, way more plot than i expected, lmk if i missed anything
[9:16 PM] FRIDAY
"Come on. The cops are gonna bust it before we even get there!" Summer stomped her heels like a whiny child.
"You know these things never start on time, we will be fine," you said, coming down the stairs.
"You could always go ahead of us and we'll meet you there," Nyla said, checking herself in the mirror, "Oh wait, you can't drive," she deadpanned.
"Only temporarily," Summer rolled her eyes.
"Only until your suspension is lifted," you reminded.
"One of you could let me borrow a car. It's only an issue if I get caught." Summer says matter of factly, like either of you would side with her.
"That is the issue, sweetie, you did get caught." Nyla pats Summer's cheek.
Summer crossed her arms, again acting like a moody toddler.
"Let's go," you grabbed your keys off the table, "Thought you didn't wanna be late." You said to Summer, heading out the door.
With an annoyed huff, Summer gathered her things and followed you and Nyla out the door.
The three of you got into your car, the gentle purr of the engine coming to life once you put the key in the ignition, sending vibrations through the entire vehicle. Music filtered through the speakers as you pulled out of your spot and took off down the street.
"Hyuck said to make sure you turn your lights off when you're coming up," Summer relayed a message she received from Haechan once you were halfway there.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," you waved off.
You turned off your headlights once you neared the exit, moving offroad. You carefully drove into the woods on unpaved ground, heading deeper into the darkness as the distant streetlights weren't doing anything to assist your sight anymore. 
"I always hate this part," Nyla says from the passenger seat.
"Gotta make sure we don't get caught if any cops are hiding around here." You said.
"I know, but it always feels like the beginning of a horror movie. And you know the hot ones always die first," Nyla pouted.
You found the opening in the fence, worn down from being driven over so many times, and pulled into the abandoned army base, finally able to cut your lights back on.
The sound of music playing and tires screeching on the pavement could already be heard from the runway the meet was on, and you were still a few hangars away.
You slow down once you reach the crowd taking over the runway. People move out of the way as you cruise down the road, looking for a spot to park.
"Ain't that Johnny over there," Summer pointed from the backseat.
"I'd recognize that giant beanstalk anywhere," you say before honking your horn, startling the Aquarius and getting his attention.
"Wow, the princess actually graces us with her presence on this lovely night," Johnny curtsies, and you scoff.
"Just move out the way before I run your ass over." you tell him.
You backed your car into the spot next to Johnny, and your friends practically jumped out of the vehicle before you could put it in park. You hadn't even closed your door when Johnny embraced you in a tight hug. 
"Jesus, John, gonna crack a rib," you gasp.
"Feels like we don't see you at these things anymore," He let you go.
"Come on, it hasn't been that long. I was here like a few weeks ago."
"For like 20 minutes. You left before you could even see me smoke Jungwoo," he crossed his arms over his chest.
You remember that night. You had totally forgotten the assignment you had due at 11:59 and raced back home to turn it in on time.
"Shit. That's my bad. You know it's just stuff with the garage and school and…stuff," you trail off.
"Yeah, I get it," Johnny slung his arm around you, "You're doing good though, kiddo," you both started following behind Nyla and Summer as they wandered off.
"How do you figure?"
"Made it further than me. I had already dropped out by this point," Johnny said, sharing a laugh.
The music came from every direction with people displaying their boosted sound systems out of their trunks. All cars of different makes and models lined the sides of the track. The ones not focusing on the races were too busy gawking at the expensive modifications under the hoods of those showing them off.
"Last chance. Winner take all," you instantly recognize Chenle's voice over the rest of the clamor.
You watch Summer reach into her bag, giving Chenle an indescribable amount, looking proud of herself.
"Who're you betting on?" Johnny asks her. 
"Yeri, duh," she answered. 
"You sure that was a good choice?" he teases.
"Obviously. Hyuck ain't got shit on her." 
"Yeah, alright," Johnny rolled his eyes, taking a bit of offense himself.
"Where is Haechan, by the way? He's up next," Jeno says.
"Over there talking to Jaemin," Chenle nodded to the opposite side of the runway where Jaemin's car was parked.
You spotted the back of Haechan's head, speaking to Jaemin through the window of his car, probably checking the police scanner and making sure you're all still in the clear, no doubt. Then your eyes land on the guy standing next to him, recognizing his silhouette.
"Oh my god, is that-" Summer starts.
"Mark Lee?" you will your vision to focus from this distance to see clearer. "Mark's back in town and no one said anything?" you hit Johnny's arm.
"You would know if you were here." Chenle shrugged.
"I'm sorry, who is Mark?" Nyla asks.
Everyone turned and looked at Nyla.
"Mark Lee? How do you not know Mark?" Summer says, showing Nyla his Instagram.
"How did you pull that up so fast?" Renjun asks.
"Holy shit, he's good," Nyla says, impressed, and you already know Summer pulled up one of the videos of him racing.
"Better be. I taught him." Johnny smiles like a proud father. "We all go way back," he says, "Ain't that right?" Johnny nudges your arm.
Way back. 
Way back when you used to spend hours at the garage with your father after school and only knew Johnny as your father's best and favorite (unconfirmed) employee. And Mark was some boy from your high school that you didn't even know until you went to your first dig.
Way back doesn't even feel that far away anymore now seeing him. It almost feels exactly like the night you met after you snuck out to the first car meet.
"If your father knew you were here, he would lose his shit. If he found out I let you drive, he would have my head. You are not getting into any car—getting behind any wheel tonight under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Johnny said. 
"But-" 
"Aht, I mean it," he said, shooting you down before changing the subject, "You know Mark, right?" Johnny asked. 
"No, I don't know Mark." 
"Well, this is Mark," Johnny said, yanking the boy out of a conversation to introduce the both of you. "You mind keeping each other company, and make sure she stays out of..everything," Johnny not so quietly muttered to Mark. "I'm up next, so be good while I'm gone," Johnny patted your head before he hopped in his car, leaving the two of you alone. 
"I can't image he's much less of a jackass at work." Mark joked. 
"He definitely isn't. I don't think it's something he can turn off," you laughed before you looked over at him, "How'd you know I'm from the garage?" you asked. 
"Johnny said you might be here tonight. He talks about you all the time, like a little sister he's never had," Mark tells you. 
"Oh really? What else has he said?" 
"You're one hell of a driver."
"Come on, it's starting," Summer pulling on your arm, tore you out of your thoughts, and you realize Mark's no longer in your sight, having lost him in the crowd.
People gather on either side of the runway, cheering as Haechan's electric blue supra pulled up next to Yeri's lavender-wrapped GT-R at the spray-painted line that served as the starting and finish line.
Chenle stood in front of them, looking at both drivers. He raised his arms, both drivers reviving up their cars. Haechan burns out his tires, kicking up smoke behind his car before Chenle drops his arms, and both speed off past him down the road.
Through all the commotion, you spotted Mark again, and before you could even think about it, you were already weaving your way through the crowd to get to him.
"So you thought you could just come back to town and not say anything to anybody?" you say, getting his attention.
Mark's eyes light up, no longer concerned with the race upon seeing you.
"I just got in yesterday, but heard you were gonna be here tonight. So I thought I'd surprise you."
"Consider me surprised."
You take the time to notice everything about him, the things that have changed and the things that haven't. Like his hair, no longer dark with the typical schoolboy cut. It's now grown out and blonde—that was as much as you could tell from the beanie it was all tucked underneath. But nothing about his face is much different than how you remember it. Still the same soft eyes you can get yourself lost in and the sweet smile that used to bring one to your face.
"So who's your money on?" Mark asks you.
"You know I'm not throwing anything unless I really got something to lose," you say, "But if I did put my money on one of them it would definitely be Yeri. She's winning this."
"Yeah, she's a good driver but don't you know what Haechan has under his hood?"
"Yeah, but it's no match for what's under Yeri's. And I would know. I put it all together myself," you smiled proudly.
You heard the cars approaching, closing in on the finishing line. From this distance, it's hard to tell who's winning, but you aren't as eager as the rest of the crowd cheering on either side to see who would make it to the end first.
The cars blurred past you, wind whipping behind them, blowing your hair out of place a bit as you turned to Mark.
"Now would you look at that," you smiled as Yeri was announced as the winner, "I know it's been a while Mark, but the last thing you should forget is that I'm always right."
"Trust, there isn't anything about you I could forget," Mark says before excusing himself to provide Haechan with moral support.
You don't know why fluttering kicks up in your stomach at his words, and you can't fight the smirk that stretches across your face as you watch him walk away. But you try to ignore it and go to congratulate Yeri on her win.
[10:32 PM] 
"Okay but like I almost had her," Haechan continues to explain. 
You hadn't been listening to Haechan, finding yourself too entranced with looking at Mark talking to Jungwoo and Yuqi a few feet away from you; you didn't even notice Nyla approaching.
"So like were you two a thing?" Nyla asks, startling you.
"What? Me and Mark?" you furrow your brows, "No, no, we were just friends."
"You were close?" she asks.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." you tell her.
"This one yours?" Mark asks, getting your attention.
"I'm standing next to it, aren't I?" you reply, running your hand over the top of your car.
"And as good as you look doing it, I just wonder if you're still as good at driving it as I remember."
"You think I lost my touch while you were away?" you push yourself away from your car, shortening the distance between the both of you.
Mark shrugs, "You tell me," he smirks.
"You know I'm more show than tell," the corners of your lips turn up.
"Is anybody else seeing this?" Nyla looks around, asking.
"Like old times?" you smile.
"Just like old times," he replies.
"For how much?" you ask.
"Let's just settle with $200 for now, nothing too serious."
"Afraid I'd clean you straight out?" you teased, "Fine by me."
Everyone's now tuned into the exchange between the two of you, a mix of reactions to what was going on with you and Mark.
"Oh shit, this is gonna be good," Haechan slid off the hood of his car, engaging in the action.
"Are they really doing this right now?" Renjun asks.
"You best believe they are. Time to make a profit—Place your bets now!" Yangyang began yelling into the crowd as you and Mark started your cars.
"You two ready?" Ten asks, standing in front of your vehicles at the starting line.
"Unless Mark's having second thoughts," you look over at Mark in his car.
Mark smirked, "Are you?"
"Hell no," you revved up your engine.
With Ten's signal, your foot hovers over the gas pedal. Bringing his hands down, you and Mark take off down the runway.
You're instantly transported back to the summer nights you and Mark spent driving around abandoned warehouses and garages.
You remember staying out for hours—most times til the sun came up, trying to perfect drifting. The amounts of tires you blew out and dents you inflicted on the car you had then led the two of you to spend your days in your father's garage, repairing the damage.
You prepare yourself for the turn coming up on the track that had been carved out. It's almost as if you and Mark move in perfect sync as you shift your gears. Your tires glide on the concrete, smoothly drifting your car around the corner, a bit of smoke trailing behind you from the burning rubber.
With as fast as you were both going, you should've expected the race to end as soon as it started. And when you both drove over the finish line, it was almost hard to tell who won. But you had Mark by a fender.
"I see you have forgot I always win too," You say to Mark as Ten hands you the money, "But that's the first real race I've had in a while, so thank you for that."
"If you're really that appreciative then how about we go again," Mark offers.
"I don't wanna take anymore of your money, Mark," you say teasingly.
He rolls his eyes before leaning out of his car, "If you really don't, how about if I win, you let me take you out."
It was the last thing you expected to hear come out of Mark's mouth. You would almost describe his demeanor as cocky, but you've seen cocky, and the confidence has never looked so good on someone.
Who is this man, and what has he done with the Mark Lee you knew? 
But you weren't going to back down just because your heartbeat picks up, and you know it's not just from the adrenaline.
"How about when I win?" you ask.
He pauses, thinking for a second before saying, "You get my car."
Your eyes light up at the proposition, "Have fun walking home tonight, Markie," you laugh.
"Bitch, if you don't let him win," Summer says, coming up to your window.
"There's no way in hell I'm doing that. Do you see that car?" you say.
"Do you see that man? He wants to take me out, who am I to put a question mark where the universe placed a period?" Nyla says, looking at Mark while he talks to Haechan.
"Look, if there are no hard feelings after I give that car a few adjustments, maybe a new paint job, and Mark still wants to take me out, he can," you shrugged.
"Trust me, he'll want to. He's been eyeing you all night." Summer hits your arm.
"Shut up, he has not," you swat her away.
"Excuse me, ladies, but if you don't mind, my man Mark has a date to win," Haechan says, making it clear who he was rooting for.
"Yeah, keep on wishing, Hyuck," Summer yelled back, "You better fucking win now." she tells you.
It was Jeno this time who stood between both cars raising his arms, giving you and Mark the signal to get set. With a nod, Jeno drops his arms, and your car accelerates, taking off, Mark right there beside you. Your entire focus was on the road ahead of you, not even Mark, who would steal glances at you from time to time.
You start getting some distance between your cars, already thinking about the new rims you'd order. But all that flies out the window when you spot a cat in the road ahead of you.
You had two choices; stop or swerve into the muddy ditch to your left, as any third option would leave someone getting hurt, so you didn't even consider it. Slamming on the breaks, you come to a quick stop as the cat stands in front of your car.
"Motherfucker," you muttered under your breath.
As Mark passed you, you swore you could've heard his laugh in the wind.
You swerved around the cat, applying heavy weight to the gas, getting back into your lane, and catching back up with Mark once you approached the turn. By the time you reached the top end, you were only about an inch away from pulling ahead of Mark's car.
You heard the distorted whirls of screams filter in through your windows as you both drove over the line, everyone cheering for the winner.
"Fuck," you whined.
You really wanted that Evo.
"Did you actually let him win?" Summer asks, stunned.
"Fuck no. There was a cat on the runway, I didn't wanna hit it," you say, slamming your door shut.
"Are you serious?" Renjun asks with a laugh.
"How the fuck else would there be a way to explain how I lost?" you say.
"You wanted to let him wi-" Johnny's cut off by Mark's hand over his mouth.
"It's true, I saw it run across," Mark attests, "But still if rules are rules and winning is winning..." he shrugs with a smile.
"You got lucky, Mark. Don't let it go to your head too much," you cross your arms over your chest.
"May be a little too late for that," Mark says, eyeing you up and down.
"Jesus, were they always like this?" Nyla asks, handing Johnny the money she placed on you.
"I have no idea where the fuck any of this came from. What am I even watching right now?" Johnny says, taking the cash.
"Hey! Did you bet against me?" you ask Johnny.
"Sorry, kid. It's just business," Johnny yells back, counting the money.
"Fucking traitor," you grumble.
Then you hear the static coming from the coms (walkie-talkies, but the boys say it's immature and insist on saying coms instead), Jisung relaying something to Chenle.
"Oh shit," Chenle said, "Cops! Cops are coming!" he yelled.
Everything stopped, and everyone scattered like roaches when the lights came on.
People were running in all different directions, jumping into anything on wheels to get away. You got into your car, searching the crowd for Nyla and Summer because you weren't gonna leave without them if they arrived with you. But you caught them getting into Jaehyun's car, so you drove away.
You heard the sirens getting closer, watching the red and blue lights flash in your rearview as you made your getaway from the old army base. Only you and a few others had the same idea of using the same way you came in to get out since the cops were coming from the main entrance, trying to round everyone up. Or at least the ones that weren't fast enough.
You cut off your headlights, driving through the woods to get to the highway, when you heard your phone vibrating in your cup holder before answering it.
"You guys okay?" you ask Nyla.
"Yeah, pretty sure everyone made it out. Where are you?" Nyla asks.
"On my way to the garage to drop the car. Then I'm going over to Johnny's."
"Alright, we'll see you there."
"Alright." you hung up.
[12:26 AM] SATURDAY 
As you walked up to Johnny's street, you could already see the partying had continued as if it was never interrupted.
Cars were double parked, taking up the entire street in front of the house. People were scattered all over the lawn, still carrying on as if you all didn't just have to run for your lives to end up here. You could already hear the music from inside Johnny's house as you walked up the front steps.
"You know, the whole point of coming over here is to lay low and not attract the attention of the cops right back to us again." you say to Johnny, finding him first on the front porch.
"It'll be fine, none of the neighbors are gonna complain," Johnny says without an ounce of worry on his face as he rolls a joint.
Before you walk into the house, you stop and ask Johnny again, "You really bet against me?"
"Look, it's not that I think he's the better racer," Johnny pauses to wet the ends of the papers with his tongue, "But you weren't gonna pass up a chance to let him take you out," he teases.
Johnny begins laughing as you hit his arm, "I told you it was the fucking cat."
You leave Johnny, still laughing, on the porch, entering the house. Making your way through the crowded hallway, you reach the kitchen, finding Nyla, Summer, and Jaehyun along with Goeun.
"Finally, what took you so long? Almost hit another cat on your way over?" Summer asks, sipping on her drink.
"Haha, very fucking funny," you spit, flipping her off.
"Here, calm down, and take this," Johnny hands you the lit joint.
"Where do you even think the cat came from? Was it alone? What if it was a mother and she had a litter? Oh my god no, we have to go back and find it," Goeun asks, making it very clear she's already a few shots in.
Now if someone brings that cat up one more time…
"Can we please just stop talking about the cat," you sigh, taking one last drag.
Passing off the joint to Jaehyun, your mind was already growing hazy, your body feeling less weighed down, and you wandered out of the kitchen. You spot Jaemin and Jeno in the backyard smoking with Yuqi, Mingi, and Doyeon. Yuqi lifts the joint toward you, offering before you tell her you're good for now. You were then drawn to the living room when you heard Haechan's voice going back and forth with another's.
"Dude, stop running me over!" Haechan complained.
"Stop getting in my way!" Sunwoo yelled back.
The two boys had planted themselves in front of the TV, quickly moving their fingers over the controls in their hands as they played GTA. Aside from the ones entertained by Hyuck and Sunwoo playing, the living room was packed with others dancing, drinking, and smoking, so you didn't even attempt to make your way through.
You spun on your heels and continued to meander around the house. But you were stopped in your tracks when you were approached by Mark.
"Peace offering?" Mark hands you a drink.
"You know I'm not actually mad about losing, Mark. At least not to you," you take the cup from him, sipping the contents as he leans against the walls next to you.
"Does that mean, if I would've just asked you instead; a date or my car, you would've chosen-"
"Your car, definitely," you say, "Mark, you're cute and all but your car...That's like a wet dream on wheels," you tell him, and he bursts into laughter. 
"You think I'm cute?" he asks, raising a brow at you.
It registers that that is what you said to him, even without realizing it. But it's not like it's a lie, so you don't deny it.
"I do." Always have. "And fortunately, you still have your car. So where do you plan on taking me in it?"
"I'm not telling you that."
You scoff, "Why not?"
"It's a surprise."
"I hate surprises." you whine.
"You didn't seem to hate me surprising you tonight."
"That's different."
"You'll like this one," Mark tells you.
"What if you're wrong and I hate it?"
"You won't." Mark wasn't going to crack, depriving you of the information.
"Fine. But when I imagine you've planned out the most extravagant date of the century, and it doesn't meet my expectations and turns out the be the worst date of my life, I will never let you live it down, Mark Lee," you say.
He laughed at your dramatics, "I'll take that chance."
"Can I at least know when to expect this to happen?" you ask.
"Are you free tomorrow?"
"I can be."
"Perfect. I'll pick you up at 6."
"Who gets dinner at 6. We aren't seniors, Mark."
"Who said I was just taking you dinner?" he tilts his head. 
"You've only been here about 36 hours and I've only known you're back for three of them, how could you have possibly planned something already?"
"Just gotta trust me," he says, lifting his cup to lips, "And wear something nice. Not too nice. But nice."
"Wow, Mark, that is so helpful." 
"I do what I can," he smiles at you rolling your eyes. 
Mark only breaks eye contact when he feels the intruding gaze of another.
"Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but why does Leo look like he wants to hit me with his car."
Ignoring any subtleties, you turn to find exactly what Mark was talking about. Across the room, you see Leo leaning against a wall, drinking his beer, and glaring at you and Mark. 
You scoff and wave it off, "It's nothing. He's just trying that big bad intimidating ex-boyfriend shit. Thinks it's actually gonna work and bring me right back into his arms," you sip your drink.
"No way you dated him," Mark stares at you, jaw dropped, "Jesus, I leave and you suddenly lose your taste in men."
"Shut up," you shove him with a laugh.
A soft smile comes to your face as you find yourself getting lost in Mark's eyes. That was until you were interrupted by someone calling your name to get your attention.
Mark could feel his posture correcting itself as Yeonjun approached the corner you both occupied, you with open arms.
Yeonjun was another ex of yours. But you only dated for a couple months in high school before ending things on good terms, agreeing to just stay friends.
"Should've known if there was gonna be one person to actually get you out there on the track, it would be Mark," Yeonjun says, "What's up, man," he greets Mark.
"Hey, man," Mark nods.
It's not like Mark had anything against the man. They were pretty well acquainted through you and the other mutual friends he shared with Yeonjun. But it was the little prick of a feeling some may describe as a bit of jealousy Mark gets when he sees Yeonjun with you sometimes. Especially now, considering how close you and Yeonjun were before, Mark can only imagine what it's like now, and he's suddenly regretting all the time he's missed.
"Yeah, since he's not a little bitch and can actually give me a race worth my while," you tease Yeonjun, putting a smile on Mark's face.
"Oh, I know you're not grouping me in with the rest of them," Yeonjun pointed over his shoulder, "fell for the trap last time, and it cost me a Camaro."
"Don't worry. You know she's been in good hands," you say.
"Yeah. And you wasted no time with a new paint job, I see," Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest.
"It was very much needed. I don't know what it is with you guys and that horrendous orange," you scrunch your face.
"So pink was the obvious answer?" Yeonjun asks.
"It's fuchsia, actually. And yes, it was," you nod, making both of them laugh. 
Your exchange with Yeonjun is cut short when he hears Wooyoung calling him from the other room. 
"I'll catch you guys later. Good seeing you, Mark," Yeonjun nods at Mark as he leaves, Mark doing the same.
"So, let me get this straight; you raced me in a car you already won from Yeonjun, trying to win mine," Mark crosses his arms.
"First, you offered up your car. Second, I've never had a Mitsubishi," You say.
"Good thing I won then," he laughs, and you shoot him a death glare. "Thought there were no hard feelings," he responds to your expression.
"Don't start poking the bear, Lee."
[3:37 AM]
You and Mark barely separated from one another all night, the two of you now sitting in the backyard, still smoking the joint Jaemin left for you two to finish.
"You okay over there?" Mark's voice breaks the peaceful silence and brings you back to reality. You look over at Mark, and your face splits into a smile before you burst into laughter.
"What?" Mark starts laughing along with you.
"Nothing. Sorry I'm just.." you couldn't find the words to even describe what's going on in your head right now, "incredibly high," you sigh.
Mark continues laughing with you, soothing the embarrassment you feel prick up your spine. 
"I missed this. And I missed you," Mark says.
"Me too," you smile, "All I could think about the whole night was how much it felt like the first time we met."
"Oh, you mean the same night Johnny almost got bagged?" Mark starts laughing uncontrollably as the memory comes back.
"Yes," you begin laughing as well.
"Do you remember the panic on his face when he was running," he manages to say between gasps for air. 
"I've never seen Johnny so scared," you say, your lungs begging for oxygen as you continue to laugh.
"I heard my name, you two talking about me?" Johnny steps out onto the deck.
"Yeah, and that first meet I went to when I saved your ass from the cops," you say.
Johnny scoffed, "What are you talking about?"
"Dude, how could you not remember?" Mark asks, "It was right after you raced Changkyun and you were busy talking to Yves and Jun when the cops showed up." he says.
"But good thing you left the keys in the car and since Mark was too busy freaking out, someone had to do something," you add.
"Alright, I was not freaking out," Mark says.
"It was a mild freak out," you say to him.
"Huh," Johnny nods, looking as if he's going through the archives of his memory, "I very vaguely remember that happening," Johnny says as he lights another joint.
"Maybe if you didn't smoke so much you'd remember," you mutter, sipping your water.
"I know you're not talking," Johnny pointed at you with the spliff between his lips.
"Sungchan's passed out on the front lawn," Haechan comes outside to tell Johnny.
"Okay, find Jeno or Jae and move him upstairs," Johnny says.
"Jeno already left and no one's seen Jaehyun in a while," Haechan says.
"Shit," Johnny sighs, taking a drag, "Mark, come on," he hits Mark's shoulder.
"Now how'd I get dragged into this?" Mark asks.
"Man, just come help us get him upstairs," Johnny tells Mark. With an annoyed grumble, Mark gets up, and you laugh as Mark follows the other two back into the house.
You only went back inside to refill your cup with more water when you bumped into Yeonjun again.
"Hey, you're still here." Yeonjun says.
"Yeah," you answer with a lazy smile.
He laughs at your hazy state, "You good?"
"I'm great," you reply.
Yeonjun smiles, "Well we're about to head out. Do you need a ride home?"
You only had two choices; either walk home or crash here at Johnny's. But now Yeonjun's presenting you with this third choice, and it definitely is tempting.
But Mark.
"I'm good," you nod.
"Okay, I'll see you later."
"I'll see you," you wave as Yeonjun runs off to catch up with the rest of his friends, getting into Hwiyoung's car.
This is when you finally notice how much things have calmed down. The cars lining the streets were no longer taking up the whole block. Now, the house was cleared out of mostly everyone, save for the ones who were crashing there for the night. 
"Are you heading out?" Mark asks, coming down the stairs.
"I mean, I probably should. I'm exhausted and I've got to rest up for this big date we have tomorrow," you say.
"You're not driving, right?"
"Of course not. I'm not too far."
"I'll take you."
"Mark, you are not driving either," you say, knowing he's also been drinking and smoking.
"I know. I'm walking you," Mark says, "Let me go grab my phone," he brushes past you and back out to the backyard.
"Hey," you heard from someone else coming down the stairs.
You furrow your brows at your roommate, "You're actually still here? Where have you been all night?" You ask Nyla.
"You know…around," she answered.
It was then you noticed Nyla wearing a shirt she didn't leave the house in, but you don't say anything about it at the moment.
"You ready to go?" Mark asks you.
"Wait, you're leaving?" Nyla asks.
"Yup," you answer.
"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks.
"Do you want to go with me?" you ask her.
Before she can answer, Jaehyun comes down the stairs buttoning up a shirt he wasn't wearing before, smirking at your best friend as he walks past to the kitchen.
Nyla looked internally conflicted, so you made the decision for her. "You can stay. Mark's gonna walk me home."
"Mark, you're an angel," Nyla grabs his face. "I love you. Text me when you're home," she says to you, kissing your cheek.
"You better be using protection. I'm too young to be an auntie," you say sternly to her.
"You'd be one hot auntie, though," she winks over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.
"You sure would be," Mark mumbles as he leans against the doorframe.
"Mark, don't start with me," you glare at him as you walk out of the house.
"What do you mean?" he asks, following you.
"The Mark Lee I knew couldn't flirt to save his life. But now, you keep saying things like that and with you looking like this," you sighed, "It makes things confusing."
"How?" he asks.
"Cause you're Mark."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
You don't know how you're supposed to answer him. "I'm not telling you."
"Well, do you want me to stop?"
You took a second to answer, "No."
For a few minutes, you only walked in comfortable silence before you broke it. "So how long are you staying?" you ask.
"Don't know yet. My brother's wedding is next month so I came back to help with preparations and stuff. But I don't know, might stick around for a while after."
You gasp, "Oh my god, your brother's getting married?? No fucking way, congrats to him."
"Thanks, I'll pass it along," he smiled.
"I bet your mom's excited."
"Yeah, and fortunately for me, it's got her too preoccupied to be any way worried about my dating life," he says. "She still asks me about you, you know. Says she misses you."
"Aw, I miss her too," you pout.
Okay, so maybe you downplayed how close you really were.
From the moment you met, it didn't take much for you to become friends. Once you had realized you went to the same school and were even in some of the same classes, you grew close. Mark introduced you to all his friends, who then became your friends and vice versa. Any time he got word of a meet happening, you were always the first person he texted, saying he was already on his way to come get you. Mark would walk with you after school to your father's garage and let you teach him a few things about fixing up and modifying cars. Your families were both fond of the relationship the two of you had; Mark's inviting you to dinner almost every week, and yours never minding having Mark over for breakfast Saturday mornings.
As you turned down your street, you were then reminded of Mark's last night here. After his going away party, he walked you home just like this for the last time before he left.
"I've missed you too, Mark. Really," you tell him once you reach your house.
You hug him, and he wraps his arms around you. Hugging him now is much different than the last time you had. You had cried into his shirt, squeezing him so tight you didn't want to let him go. And a part of you wished you didn't. But at least letting go this time doesn't hurt as much as it did the last.
"Goodnight, Mark."
"Goodnight," he says.
"I'll be seeing you," you say, making your way up to the door.
"You'll be seeing me," he reassures, waiting for you to enter your house before walking back to Johnny's.
[5:43 PM] SATURDAY
"Can I get a time check?" you ask.
"Almost quarter to 6," Summer answers.
You started cursing under your breath, rushing to apply your mascara.
"Wow, I've never seen you like this?" Nyla says.
"Like what?" you ask, never taking your eyes away from the mirror.
"Nervous to go on a date with a boy," she says teasingly.
"First, I'm not nervous," you point the mascara wand at her, "Second, he's not just some boy," you turn back to your reflection.
You heard your phone vibrate with a notification and looked at the text from Mark.
[5:49 PM] mark:  omw to come get you 
Fuck. And you weren't even dressed yet.
"Shit—okay, maybe I am a little nervous," you left your vanity and threw off your robe to slip into your dress.
"You really like him, don't you?" Nyla asks.
"You don't know the half of it," Summer interjects.
"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, struggling to zip your dress.
"Bitch, are you for real right now?" Summer deadpans, helping you with the dress, "You were so unbelievably head over heels for him in high school."
"I was not," you defended.
"You and Mark seem to be the only ones who didn't know that," she zips you up.
You couldn't think of anything to say to that, but thankfully you didn't have to anymore once your phone started ringing.
"Hello?"
"I'm outside," Mark's voice filters through the speaker.
"Fuck," you mutter, "Okay, sorry, I'm almost ready," you tell him.
"No worries, I'll still be here."
You hung up and ran around your room, looking through your closet and frantically throwing things out of the way to find your shoes. 
"I literally just saw them. Where the fuck are they?" you say to yourself.
"You mean these?" Nyla pulls the heels from under your bed.
"Thank you," you grab the shoes and slip them on.
"Damn, you look real good," Summer compliments as you finish putting on your jewelry.
"Do I really?" you ask, making sure your hair is sitting just how you want it.
"Hell yeah," Nyla agreed.
"Okay," you take a deep breath, smoothing out the silk draped over your body before leaving your room.
"Have fun!" Nyla yelled after you.
You step out of your house to find Mark leaning against a black Porsche you recognize as one of Jaehyun's instead of his signature red Mitsubishi Evolution. You would be disappointed if he didn't look so good standing next to the car.
Mark pushed himself away from the car when he saw you coming down the steps, completely in awe. Meanwhile, you were just focused on not tripping and stumbling down onto your face.
"Hi," you walk up to him. 
"Hi," he seemed speechless, "You look…shit. I mean, not like that—You just look beautiful."
"Thank you, Mark," you grin, "You're looking pretty fine yourself."
"You know, I try," he smooths out his jacket, "Shall we?" he opens the passenger door for you.
You smile as you step toward the car, Mark taking your hand, helping you in before closing the door and rushing over to the driver's side.
Once you've clicked yourself in with the seatbelt, you look up to see Mark staring at you. "What?"
"Nothing," he clears his throat, pulling off.
You tried not to get too lost in looking at Mark, staring out the window instead, trying to figure out where he was taking you. But then you feel his hand brush against yours when he reaches for the gear lever. You couldn't help it, letting your eyes wander over to him. Curtains of blonde hair hung slightly over his eyes as they were focused on the road. Your eyes drift down to the material perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, taking note of the color he chose to wear, a deep shade of blue, one of your favorite colors.
"We're here," Marks says, and you snap out of it, looking around to see where he's brought you. Mark exits the car first and comes to open your door for you.
"Mark, you didn't."
"I did," Mark smiled, "Put this on," he handed you a lanyard reading VIP.
"Where the fuck did you get these?" you ask.
He ignores your question and holds his hand out for you instead, "Come on."
You slide your hand into his and follow him toward the entrance.
As Mark leads you to your seats, you realize you're not in the packed sections with the rest of the screaming fans. But instead where most executives, family members of racers, and people with enough money to buy their way into this section were. Your eyes were as wide as continental tires as you sat down. 
"Mark…" now it was your turn to be speechless.
"Does this meet your expectations?" he asks as you look around in awe.
"No," you say, "Definitely surpassed them."
The crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers walked out to their cars.
"Oh my god," you gasp, "It's him."
Kim Jongin, or as he's famously known, Kai, walks out. He brightly smiles at the fans screaming his name and waves into the audience. You're too starstruck to move. And even think your heart has stopped beating when Kai looks in your direction.
"Mark! You made it," Kai walks over to you and Mark.
"Told you I would, man," Mark greets Kai, "I also said I would introduce you to one of the best street racers I know."
Kai looks at you, his smile never faltering as he extends his hand to shake yours.
"Holy shit," is all you can say as you shake his hand, "I'm like a huge fan," you tell Kai.
"So I've been told. I've also heard you put up some serious game out on the track," Kai says before one of his crew members calls him to his car. "I gotta run, but how about you guys stick around after the race and come down to the pit."
You're certain your jaw's already on the floor, in complete disbelief that this is happening right now.
"Yeah, for sure," Mark says.
Kai waves at you one last time before running off to the track, putting on his helmet, and jumping into his car. Once you were out of your trance, you hit Mark's arm.
"Ow!" Mark rubbed his bicep.
"Since when the fuck do you know Kai?" you ask.
"Since Kevin was just getting into the NIRA circuit. I went to one of the digs with him and that was where I met Kai."
You've been following Kai's career practically since it started back when you were a high school freshman. You probably even watched the exact meet Mark was talking about. 
"And you've just been sitting on this piece of information, waiting for what to tell me?"
"For this." Mark answers.
"I can't believe you," you mutter, turning away from him. 
[8:32 PM] 
As Kai tended to the post-race press, you and Mark waited for the first-place winner in the pit. You were busy drooling over what was under the hood of Kai's car while Mark conversed with Shohei, a pit crew member.
"So what do you think?" Kai reappears, asking you.
"I think if I was out there on the track, I'd have a reason to be scared," you say, "An FR9 engine, a nos wet fogger system, and forged pistons," you only list off the components you can see from just taking one look, impressing the racer.
"You really do know your shit," Kai smiles, "I like her," he says to Mark.
"Yeah, me too," Mark smiled at you.
"Wanna take her for a lap?" Kai asks you.
"Me?" you point to yourself, "In this?" then to the car.
"Why not?" Kai shrugs, handing you a helmet.
"She isn't exactly dressed for-" another crew member, Eunseok, started.
But you kick off your heels and grab the helmet, making sure your dress doesn't hike up your legs too high as you slide through the window to get into the race car.
"Man, she's got this," Mark reassures Eunseok as Kai gets in the car with you.
"You good in there?" you hear Mark's voice from inside the helmet.
"You know I'm more than good," you reply.
"And don't I know that for damn sure," you hear the smirk in his voice, "But I've talked you up to pretty much everyone here, so don't embarrass me," he says light-heartedly.
Your barefoot steps on the gas and a smile splits your face as you burn out the tires before accelerating. The wind whipped against your skin as you picked up speed. You felt like you were flying as Kai hysterically egged you on from the passenger seat.
Mark could hear your laughter through the com piece in your helmet, telling you're having the time of your life with the way you round the track. The car roared around the corners, and you felt the G-forces pushing you back into the seat. At the end of the lap, you pulled the car back into the pit, taking the helmet off to catch your breath.
"Now that's what I call driving!" Kai exclaimed as he got out of the car from the passenger side window.
You pulled yourself out of the seat and exited through the window. Mark was right there to help you even though he knew you didn't really need his assistance. You feel Mark's arm around your waist, the other the under your thighs, helping you out of the vehicle and letting you hold onto him to put your shoes back on.
"Between that and everything else I've been told, you better hold onto her, Mark."
"I don't think there's any other choice. She's stuck with me," Mark grabs your hand, "We should probably start leaving now before we're late." Mark says to you, looking at his watch.
"It was good seeing you again, and it truly was an honor to meet you," Kai bowed as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles.
"The honor was all mine. And you know, if you ever need a tune-up, or tires changed or even a buff, my garage always has its door opened for you," you smile.
"I'll keep that in mind," Kai nods with a smile.
"What are we even getting paid for, then?" Seunghan raised his arms.
Once back in the car, Mark weaved through the traffic of spectators leaving the stadium to get on the highway. You didn't notice Mark still holding your hand, only driving with one hand so his fingers could stay intertwined with yours until you reached the restaurant.
[9:41 PM]
"It was just so crazy. To feel that much power in the grips of my hands." you continued. You couldn't help but talk through the entirety of dinner, recounting the events of the night; Mark not minding one bit.
Mark slides his hand closer to yours across the table, taking your hand in his.
You trail off, suddenly losing focus while looking at Mark. Even in the dim candlelight of the restaurant, you can see how Mark's eyes hold the stars as he looks at you.
"You don't have to stop," Mark says, "I like listening to you," he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.
"And I just like looking at you," you say, "Still think I'm going to wake up from this dream at any moment."
"You dream about me often?" Mark asks teasingly, leaning on the table.
"Oh, Markie," you lean closer too, "You really don't know the half of it, huh?"
"Why don't you tell me then?" Mark says, his eyes falling down to your lips.
"I'd rather show you," you say before kissing him.
You were never one to really be for public displays of affection, but with Mark, here and now, it just felt right.
"I've wanted to do that ever since sophomore year," you tell him once you pull away.
"Deadass?" Mark asks, raising his brows.
You laugh at his stunned expression, "Deadass, Mark."
"So Renjun was right," he mumbles to himself.
"About what?"
"You having a crush on me in high school."
"Seems like you were the only one who didn't know," you shrug.
"Well, don't act like you didn't know I had one on you too," Mark says, and your brows raise, "Wait, really? You didn't know?" he asks.
"Of course, I didn't Mark. How was I supposed to?"
"I don't know. But I mean, it was pretty obvious," Mark says, and you scoff.
You could pretty much say the same to him. 
"God, I'm such an idiot," Mark shakes his head, and you laugh, squeezing his hand. 
"My idiot," you kiss him again.
[11:56 PM]
With the night coming to an end, you feel a slight pang of sorrow as Mark nears your house.
Mark's hand holding yours, squeezes lightly, bringing you out of your thoughts once he's parked on your street. He kissed the back of your hand before exiting the car, opening your door, and helping you out. 
You slide his jacket off your shoulders and hand it back to Mark for him to toss into the backseat.
"So," Mark starts.
"So," you take a step closer to him.
"You can truthfully tell me if it really was the worst date of your life," he said with a smile.
You roll your eyes, "Maybe it wasn't."
"Damn, it does feel good being right."
"The night isn't over. There's still time for my answer to change."
"How much time?"
You look at your phone, "Two minutes and 30 seconds."
Mark was the one to initiate the kiss this time. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against his body. You allow Mark's tongue to slip into your mouth, and he hums at the taste of your lipgloss mixed with the wine you drank. Mark pulls away so you can both catch your breath, and you rest your forehead against his.
"Well?"
"Well, this has officially been the best date I've been on," you smile.
He lifts your chin, getting you to look at him, and kisses you one last time.
"Goodnight," he says.
"Goodnight, Mark," you begin to walk up your front steps.
"Wait," Mark stops you, "This isn't gonna be a one time thing is it?"
"Do you want it to be?" you ask.
"No."
"Okay. You'll be seeing me, Mark."
"I'm counting on it."
Walking up to your door, you see the movement of the curtains in the window and shake your head as you put in your key. As expected, the moment you enter your house, you're met with Nyla and Summer waiting for you.
"Date must've gone well," Summer says.
"What makes you say so?" you ask.
"That was pretty intense between you two out on the steps, and you're still grinning like an idiot," Nyla tells you.
"I am not," you deny with said grin still plastered on your face.
[1:34 PM] MONDAY
Mark steps onto the front porch, joining the rest who were outside. He finds you among them in Johnny's driveway, working on Jungwoo's car.
"Whatcha doing?" Mark asks, approaching you.
"Jungwoo says it doesn't sound right so I'm trying to adjust the cylinders and change the air pressure intake," you say.
You might as well have been wearing an expensive white dress and standing at an altar with the way Mark's looking at you. Mark watches as you carefully maneuver your way around the engine, sure not to interfere with anything valuable.
"Try that," you tell Jungwoo, who was sitting behind the wheel.
Jungwoo started his car and revved up the engine a few times, the loud roar sounding like music to your ears. You smile, satisfied, and close the hood of the car.
"You are an angel, you know that," Jungwoo says, appreciatively kissing your cheek before wandering off.
"Yeah, I know," you smile, turning to Mark, "Hi."
"Hi." you notice Mark lick his lips as he eyes you.
"What?"
"Nothing. That was just kinda hot," Mark tells you.
"Yeah? All this sweat and grease really doing it for you?" you joke, wiping your hands with a rag.
"You're definitely doing it for me," Mark says, pulling you toward him by your waist.
Mark kisses you, and you practically melt against his lips. You have to fight the urge to run your fingers through his hair, waiting until you properly wash your hands. You circle your arms around his neck instead, but things don't get too heated as your phone starts ringing.
"You mind?" you ask Mark. He hands you your phone, and you step away to take the call. 
"Everything okay?" Mark asks as you return to him.
"Yeah," you tell him before turning to everyone in the front yard, "So, how many of you love me enough to come swing by the garage with me?" you sweetly smile at your friends.
You aren't given a direct answer, but they all move from their spots and start getting into their cars, Mark following you to yours and riding with you.
. . .
You knew signing for the delivery wouldn't have taken long, but no one seemed to be in a rush to leave as they all busied themselves around the autobody shop. 
"Damn I really have missed this place," Mark says, looking around with a soft smile. 
"You know you've been equally missed," you tell him.
"Say it ain't so. Mark Lee, is that you?" you hear your dad's voice behind you.
"Yes, sir," Mark extends his arm to shake your dad's hand.
You try to continue focusing on the paperwork in front of you as the two exchange small talk before your dad mentions having Mark over for dinner.
"Oh, I couldn't impose-" Mark started.
"It wasn't imposing before, and it still isn't now," your dad says, "Your mom would love to have him over for dinner," he says to you.
"She would," you agree.
"Great, come over next Wednesday," he tells Mark before Soojin pulls your dad away to deal with a customer.
"Come with me," you round the desk and take Mark's hand. 
Mark follows your lead through the shop as you take him to where some of your friends congregated around Shotaro's station. 
"Hey, Taro. You busy?" you ask, getting his attention.
"Not really," Shotaro says. 
"Mark, this is Shotaro. Shotaro, this is Mark." you introduce them.
The Sagittarius' eyes widen as he extends his hand to Mark, "Holy shit, I've seen you race. You're like a god."
"Wow, thank-" Mark begins.
"Alright, I wouldn't say all that," you say.
"Have you seen him drive?" Shotaro asks.
"Of course, he's the only person that can keep up with me. But he usually never beats me over that line," you say with half a smirk.
Shotaro's brows furrow, "Wait, you race?"
Having only been working here a few months, you don't blame Shotaro for not knowing.
"I don't as much as I used to," you say.
"This isn't the first time I've heard this. Why is that?" Mark asks.
You shrug. "I don't know. I guess between school and helping manage this place I kinda lost my enthusiasm about it," you look down at the spare tire on the ground, softly kicking it, suddenly feeling everyone's eyes on you, "And it kinda just wasn't the same without you."
Mark looks as if he's endeared by what you've said. But you clear your throat and quickly change the subject.
"But anyway, how did the dry system hold up?" You ask Shotaro.
"Pretty good. Better than my last one," Shotaro tells you, lifting the hood of his car.
"Holy shit, where did you find these parts?" Mark asks as a few of you gather around the automobile. 
"Only knew one place to find them. So I had them imported from Yokohama," Shotaro says.
"Shotaro, you're definitely riding with us to race wars," Hendery says. 
"You guys are going too?" Shotaro asks.
"Yeah. Actually, speaking of, how many of us are going to race wars?" Jaehyun asks.
You and Mark used to talk about going to race wars all the time but never got the chance to when you were in high school because your parents would never let you. And by the time you were able to go, Mark wasn't there to be with you, so it just didn't have the same feeling without him.
"Pretty sure all of us here. Probably the rest of the others, too," Jeno says.
"Mark, you're coming?" Jisung asks.
"When is it?" Mark asks.
"It's supposed to be the beginning of next month, but the exact date and location haven't been posted yet. I'll let you know once I find out," Jaemin says.
"Okay," Mark nods, "As long as it doesn't interfere with my brother's wedding, I'll go."
"You could always not go?" Chenle jokes.
"Dude, he's my brother, and I'm the best man."
Everyone now turns their attention to Mark.
"What the fuck? Since when?" Ten asks.
"Since I found out my brother was engaged," Mark answers.
"So you just don't tell anyone shit around here anymore?" you joke.
Mark playfully rolls his eyes, poking his cheek with his tongue.
God, why is he so hot. 
You curl your arms around his, "Mark, you have to come. We've always wanted to go together," you pout.
"I know, I know," Mark holds your hand, "If I can, I will. I promise."
That was good enough for you for now.
"Okay."
[6:50 PM] THURSDAY
"Hello?" you answer the phone.
"You still at the garage?" Mark asks.
"Yeah, but I'm about to leave in a few minutes."
"Wanna come over to my place? Watch a movie and maybe drink this bottle of wine I have sitting in front of me."
"I'll need to go home and shower first. I'm all sweaty and greasy," you say.
"I don't really mind. Sweat, grease, and all."
"Well, I do. So I'll be over in an hour."
Mark kisses his teeth, "Fine."
[8:02 PM] 
Pulling up to Mark's house, you don't know why you expected it to be any different than how you remember it. But it was the same color and layout and even still had the dent in the garage door from when Yuta accidentally backed into it.
Mark answers the door wearing an old t-shirt, shorts, and glasses. Those goddamn glasses. 
"Hi," Mark smiles at you.
"Hi," you step into the house, allowing Mark to pull you in for a kiss. "You miss me or something?" you ask.
"Guess you can say that."
Slipping off your shoes and jacket, you follow Mark into the living room.
"Your parents here?" you ask.
"Nah, they went with my brother to meet the future in-laws," Mark answers. "You want a glass?" he points to the wine bottle sitting on the table.
"Yes, please," you sigh, collapsing onto the couch.
"Long day?"
"Yeah, but it's nothing I'm not used to." you take the wineglass he hands you.
Mark listens to you go on about your day after he asks, only briefly interrupted when he goes to answer the door for the delivery of the food you didn't even know he ordered. After eating your fill of pizza, you continue to watch the movie. You notice how much closer you are now than when you first arrived. You went from sitting right next to Mark to being seated between his legs, your back against his chest.
"Now, I gotta ask, who's your favorite?"
"Spider-man? Garfield for sure. I love the other two but The Amazing Spider-Man has a special place in my heart," you hold your hand over your chest.
"You were supposed to say me," Mark grumbles, rolling his eyes.
You laugh, turning to him, "Mark, you only dressed up once senior year, and that's cause you lost a bet."
"But you can't say I don't make a good Peter Parker," he says.
"Only if I can be your MJ," you joke.
Mark closes the space between you, softly pressing his lips to yours. Having seen No Way Home enough times opening weekend, you didn't mind Mark distracting you from the rest of the movie. You reposition yourself to straddle him and bring your lips back to his. The hands Mark has on your hips move down to cup your ass. Then you start laughing.
"Sorry, did I overstep?" Mark asks, moving his hands away.
"No, you didn't. It's just..nothing, sorry," you apologize. 
You start kissing him, cupping his face before you feel his two hands on your ass again, unable to stop the giggles bubbling in your throat.
"What?" Mark can't help but laugh now. 
"I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about your hands on my ass."
"What's so funny about that?" he asks.
"Nothing. It's just, I can't believe my best friend, Mark Lee, is kissing me with his hands on my ass," you cover your eyes, trying to explain. You shake your head, trying not to overthink this too much. "I swear I'm not laughing at you. I'm just nervous, I guess."
"What for?"
"Because it's you," you say, peaking at him through your fingers.
"I make you that nervous, baby?" Mark pulls your hands away from your face with a crooked smile. 
Is he trying to make you spontaneously combust?? 
"Maybe," you answer.
"Think I can do something to change that," he says, "Come here," he juts his chin toward you, signaling you to kiss him.
You let all thoughts fade away as you leaned into Mark. You grab the sides of his face, pressing your lips to him.
Mark keeps his hands off you until he can practically feel the desperation in your body, letting your hands roam all over him.
Feeling Mark's hands slide up your thighs to your ass made you softly moan into his mouth as he pressed you into his groin.
"Mark…" you breathe shakily.
"You need something?"
"Yeah, you."
You could hear your heart banging against your chest like a drum as you followed Mark up the stairs to his room, your hand in his.
Entering his room, you can see it hasn't changed much either. The same posters are still on the walls, his guitar sitting in its designated corner by his bed, and the small piles of clothes scattered over the floor. You didn't have the chance to get a good look at much else as Mark's lips were back on yours once he closed the door.
The backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed before you fall down onto it. Mark looks down at you lying on his bed, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, taking his glasses off, and tossing them onto the bed. Mark grabs one of your legs, making space between them for himself, bringing his lips back to yours. Once he starts kissing your neck, you know you're already done for. 
"Mark, please," you arch into his touch.
"What, baby?"
"Touch me."
"I am touching you," he smirks, nipping at your jaw.
"God, since when were you such a fucking tease," you say, making him laugh.
"You mean here?" he asks, cupping your sex.
"Mhm," you tug your teeth between your teeth, nodding.
Mark looks into your eyes as he undoes the string of your sweatpants, making sure this is okay. When you don't tell him to stop, Mark slips his hand into your pants, pressing his fingers to the damp cotton, still acting as a barrier, keeping you from what you want.
"You this wet for me, princess?"
You shutter at his use of the pet name, "Yes."
"Mmm," he hums, watching your body react to the smallest of his touches. Mark then pulls your underwear to the side and teases your silt with his middle finger. Your jaw drops, silently moaning when you feel one of his fingers breach your walls. 
"Damn, baby, you're soaking for me," Mark smirks against your navel, moving your shirt out of his way as he kisses his way up your stomach.
"Mark, don't say things like that," you whine.
"Why?"
"Cause it's turning me on even more," you roll your hips into his hand.
"That doesn't sound like a reason to stop to me," he stopped kissing your skin once he reached your sternum, "Do you want me to stop?"
"No."
"Good. I'm only getting started," Mark pulls his hand away.
Before you could even protest, Mark's tugging your sweats down your legs, your panties along with them, getting you to lift your hips so he could throw them to the floor. You watch Mark lower himself to his knees on the floor before the bed, directing each of your legs over his shoulders. He softly kisses your inner thighs, nipping your sensitive skin between his teeth.
Mark pulls you closer to his face, looking up at you with eyes blown wide with lust. You try to keep your composure when Mark's tongue licks a fat stripe up your slit. Mark moans at the taste of you, and holds your legs apart as he buries his head between your thighs. Your small whimpers gradually grow into cries of Mark's name as he brings his fingers back to your core, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.
"Fuck, that feels so good," you comb your fingers through his hair as he catches your clit between his lips.
Your back arches into the air, and you tug harshly on his roots, making him groan into your pussy. Mark's middle and ring finger curl against your velvety walls, moving in a come hither motion once he finds your sweet spot. Between the movements of his head and his fingers pumping in and out of you, you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten.
"Mark.." you sharply moan, "P-Please, don't stop," you beg.
Mark could feel his shorts growing uncomfortably tight the more he heard you moan and felt your pussy flutter around his fingers.
"You wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"
"Yes, Mark, please."
If your eyes didn't flutter shut, you would've caught the smirk on his face before he attacked your clit with his tongue.
At this point, you're no longer able to form full sentences. Mark's mouth makes you lose your senses and every coherent thought you have.
Mark's fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, keeping you from squirming too much as he eats you out like a man feasting after days of starving. 
"Oh my god!" your eyes roll back, "M'gonna cum," you warn through a whimper.
Mark never let up. The pace of his fingers picking up and his tongue flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves had your toes curling. Your legs closed around his head once your orgasm hit you. Your cries and trembling legs went unnoticed by Mark as he was too enamored with the feeling and taste of you in his mouth.
"Mark, Mark, Mark," you whine, softly pushing his head away.
You open your eyes to find Mark with his fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off them. Even through your fatigue, seeing him with messy hair from you pulling on it and his face glistening with your juices reignited your insatiable desire for him.
"You okay?"
"Okay? Am I okay?" you raise a brow, "Mark, I can't remember the last time someone made me cum like that from just going down on me," you throw your arm over your eyes, still coming down from your high.
"I'm glad to be of service, then," he moves your arm away, kissing you.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning around his tongue when it clashes with your own, tasting yourself on his lips.
You flip Mark onto the bed without breaking the kiss, and he rests his hands on your thighs, roughly kneading your flesh. You hum, feeling his hard clothed cock resting between your folds, Mark grabbing your ass to get you to roll your hips into his, letting a sound that closely resembles a whine climb up his throat.
Mark chases after your lips when you pull away, opening his eyes to see you admiring him.
"You're so pretty, Mark," you say, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes, and you swear you heard a whimper slip from his swollen lips.
Mark blushes, turning away from you so you don't notice. But you do. You grab his jaw, making him look at you, and pull him close enough, your lips to ghost over his.
"My pretty boy," you kiss his lips.
His cock stirs beneath you as you kiss your way down his neck. You tug on the collar of his shirt, getting Mark to pull it over his head, throwing it to the floor next to your clothes. You run your hand down his toned chest, a light trail of hair on his lower stomach disappearing into his shorts.
"Can I?" you ask, hooking your finger in the waistband of his shorts.
"Yeah," Mark nods.
Once his pants are off, you're both left in only one piece of clothing; his boxers and your shirt.
You kneel between his legs while Mark sits back on his hands, just watching you. Resting your hand on his leg, you softly squeeze his thigh before slowly sliding over to the bulge in his underwear. Palming the outline of his heavy cock has Mark tilting his head back, but not too much so he can still watch you as you waste no more time and release his dick from its confinements.
Your eyes widen, and the corners of your lips twitch, seeing his cock spring free, lightly slapping against his lower stomach. Precum dribbles from his slit and your mouth practically waters. You wrap your fingers around his length, smearing the beads of precum with your thumb. His cock twitches in your grasp, a raspy groan falling from his lips and shooting straight to your core.
"Mark, please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this house," you look at him through your lashes.
"Second drawer," he nods to his nightstand.
"Were you stocking up for this?" you ask, finding the industrial-sized box.
"No," Mark laughs, "Donghyuck 'gifted' that to me after our first date."
"Now, why would he do that?" you ask, straddling his thigh.
You already know your friend can have a perverted way of thinking, but you wanted to hear Mark's reasoning.
"Cause I couldn't stop talking about you in that fucking dress," he grips your waist, "Let's just say it was a lot harder to keep my gentlemanly manners than I thought it would be that night."
"As much as I appreciated the consideration," you say, "I wore that dress hoping you would've taken it off me," you lean into his ear.
"Fuck me," Mark groans under his breath and digs his fingers into your hips.
You grin, kissing him. Since you're distracted, Mark snatches the condom from your hand and pushes you onto your back. He sits back on his haunches, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and tears the package with his teeth before rolling the latex on and pumping his cock in his hands a few times.
Laying there with your hair splayed out on the pillows, your bottom lip between your teeth, and your thighs desperately itching to rub together at the sight of the man before you, Mark slowly begins losing his grip on any sort of restraint he has left. Mark wraps his arms under your thighs, pulling your hips closer to his. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as Mark keeps his eyes locked with yours, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds. 
"Mark, please," your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Mark still heard the traces of desperation. 
The blunt head of his cock presses against your slit before being enveloped by your slick pussy. He takes his time easing into you as your walls open up for him.
"Oh, god—Mark," you choke out, feeling the way you have to adjust to his size.
"I know, I know, baby," Mark coos, "It's okay. Just relax for me," he soothed his hand up and down your leg.
You nod, and Mark starts kissing your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back to give him more access to mark up the side of your throat. As Mark sinks his teeth into your skin and can feel how incredibly wet you become, your pussy practically sucking him the rest of the way in.
"How're you doing, princess?" Mark kisses his way back up your neck. 
"Fuck, Mark, you feel so big," you roll your head back onto his pillow. Mark smiles, peppering your face with kisses while whispering sweet praises. 
"Let's just take it slow then, okay," he says, slowly drawing his hips back.
The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls as he slowly left your heat, only to fill you up again, had your eyes rolling back. 
"I feel so…you make me feel so—Full," you stumble over your words, moaning. 
The chuckle that leaves his lips leads a new wave of arousal to flood through your body and clench around him.
"And you're doing so good for me," he kisses your jaw. Mark continues slowly moving his hips, using deep sensual strokes to fuck you. Now fully submerged in pleasure, you beg Mark for more.
Mark grabs your leg hooked around his hip and begins picking up his rhythm. Bringing his eyes down to where your bodies were connected, he watches his dick disappear between your folds. Mark's shallow pants slowly transition into broken whimpers. You're just barely holding on, and Mark continues coaxing you closer to the edge.
"You're making me feel so good, Mark," you tell him.
Mark tries to conceal his noises, burying his head in your neck, but you disapprove. 
"Come on, Markie," you direct his face to look at you, "I wanna hear you, pretty boy," you grin, running your thumb along his bottom lip.
"Fuck~" he whines.
"Don't stop, baby, m'so close," you say.
"M-Me too—fuck, you feel so good," his voice fluctuates.
"S'all for you, pretty boy," you tell him, and you almost cum from his whimpers alone.
"God, stop calling me that," Mark pants, screwing his eyes shut.
"Why?" you smirk, bringing your fingers beneath his chin to make him look at you.
Damp strands of blonde hair hung in his face as he opened his lust-filled eyes, "I won't be able to last any longer," he answers.
"You gonna cum for me, Mark?" you roll your hips into his, making him deeply groan.
Mark holds your jaw with one hand, keeping intimate eye contact as he repeatedly thrusts into you. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before pushing his finger into your mouth, and you eagerly accept.
"Not until you cum for me first," he says, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and bringing it to your clit.
"Oh—fuck, Mark, please," you cry.
Mark lowers himself to kiss you, muffling both of your sweet noises.
You frantically search for something to grab onto, finding Mark's shoulders first as you cum. Your pussy clamps around his cock, sending Mark into his own orgasm. Soft, breathy moans fill your ears as Mark's hips stutter, and he fills the condom with his cum.
"Holy shit," he drops his head to your shoulder.
You softly run your fingers through the strands of his sweaty hair as he kisses your damp skin. Pressing his lips to the side of your neck, Mark finds your lips meeting in a lazy kiss.
"Wait here," he tells you, the huskiness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
You whimper as he slips his cock out of the pulsating warmth of your pussy, leaving you clenching around nothing.
After tossing the condom into the trash and slipping his boxers back on, you watch Mark shuffle out of the room. He returns with a wet cloth, pulling your legs apart and wiping away the stickiness clinging to your folds.
"Are you okay?" Mark asks. 
"Yeah."
"You're very quiet," he lays down next to you. 
"I'm thinking," you say, turning in his direction. 
"About?"
"You," you answer, "There's no going back after this, Mark."
"Are you okay with that?"
"Am I?" you smile, "I'm not saying that cause I regret this, Mark. I'm saying this as a warning cause it'll be harder for you to get rid of me now," you wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek. 
Mark laughs, resting his hands on your lower back. "I can't image I would ever want to anyway," he kisses you.
[9:43 PM] SATURDAY 
"No one even knew Yuta was back in town until today, how did so many people find out?" Summer says as your car nears the entrance to the parking garage.
It had taken you nearly ten minutes to move up in the line of cars that had formed. You're just glad you got here when you did, considering that the line was now streaming down the street.
Since Yuta had sent out the location at practically the last minute, you weren't expecting the dig to have this big of a turnout. You don't even know how Yuta set it up, but since the renovations to the parking garage weren't nearly finished yet, it was closed off from the rest of the public. Which meant for you, it was the perfect place for races to be conducted without having to worry about any civilians.
You finally reach the barrier gate where Yunho and Changbin are standing post.
"Hey, Sunny," Changbin says to Summer.
"Hi, Binnie," she sweetly smiles as she hands him the money for the entry fee, "I'll see you in there?" she asks.
"Yeah," Changbin smiles, "You're good to go, y/n." he nods to you.
"Okay, what the fuck was that?" Nyla asks Summer as you start following the cars down to the underground level.
"What?" Summer asks.
"You and Binnie?" You raise your brows, "When did that start?"
"It's nothing. We're just friends."
You and Nyla share a glance in your rearview mirror. "Sure, whatever you say," Nyla drops it.
Just as you reach the bottom level, you see Haechan driving in the opposite direction, and you roll down your window to talk to him. 
"Where are you guys going, we just got here?" you ask Haechan.
"Damien called Jaemin out," Hyuck tells you, "Come on," he waves at you to follow him.  
You tail Haechan's car up to the third level and easily find a few more of your friends, or rather their cars, knowing they're somewhere close by. Parking between Jungwoo and Xiaojun's cars, you gravitate toward the cluster of your friends, spotting a mop of silky jet-black hair among them.  
"Yuta!" you walk up with open arms to be embraced in a hug.
"I know I was only gone for two weeks but seems like I've missed a lot anyway," Yuta says, "So, where is lover boy Mark?"
"He's on his way," you say. 
"I can't believe it took all these years for you two to finally get together," he teased.
"I'm starting to get tired of hearing this," you roll your eyes playfully. 
"Well, it's true. You two were so ridiculously down bad for one another," Yuta teases, and you lightly hit his arm.
More people begin filling in as they anticipate the race about to go down. Jaemin's car sits at the starting point, along with Damien's. Now the only thing you're left waiting for is Johnny, Yangyang, Hendery, and Jaehyun to set up their positions around the so-called track.
"Fuck this," your impatience gets the best of you, and you snatch the walkie-talkie from Chenle's back pocket, "Are we ready?" you ask.
"Track's all clear, we're good to go," Johnny responds to you. 
Once you have confirmation from all five groups, you take the lead and stand in front of the cars. 
"You guys already know the rules. It's five levels from here to the top. Whoever makes it there first, wins," you clarify, "Ready?" you ask Jaemin and Damien. 
They both nod and you motion for them to inch their cars up just a bit so their bumpers line up exactly. You raise your hands, and the crowd begins cheering as both cars rev up. You drop your arms, and you're engulfed in the smoke their burnouts left behind as the cars whipped past you. As everyone else runs for the elevator and stairs to get to the rooftop before Jaemin and Damien do, there's only one person not moving along with the herds of people, walking toward you instead.
"You're probably the hottest race marshal I've ever seen," Mark says as you turn on your heels, almost crashing right into him.
"Mark," your face splits into a smile, cupping his face and kissing his lips.
"Miss me, baby?" he asks with a chuckle.
"Yeah, pretty boy," you tease.
Mark kisses you again, firmly keeping one hand on your lower back.
"Hey! Y'all can suck faces later, but get your asses in here now!" Summer yells from the elevator. 
Remembering the race, you grab Mark's hand, run into the elevator, and head for the top floor. 
Since Yangyang and Jaehyun were exclusively live-streaming the entire race for people to watch from the different levels they were on, everyone's eyes were glued to their phones, waiting for Jaemin and Damien to reach the top. You all watch from Jisung's phone as Jaemin takes the lead once he passes Ten on the sixth floor, drifting the turn up to the seventh, and you smile proudly since you had been the one who taught him how to in the first place.
You can hear the tires screeching and the deep resonance of the engines making their way up each floor. Hitting one last turn and perfectly timing his gear shift, Jaemin drifts his car up the ramp. The cheers of the crowd were deafening as everyone celebrated Jaemin's win, even himself, with a few victory donuts.
You would've been right there alongside everyone else, congratulating Jaemin on his win if Mark hadn't used this chance while everyone was distracted and not paying attention to either of you.
Your back meets a concrete wall with a soft thud while Mark's lips attack yours.
"What's with you, Markie?" You ask.
A low groan rumbles in his chest, "You're just so…fucking beautiful."
"Thank you, baby," you kiss his nose.
"Hey, Mark!" someone calls him, "How about you lay off your girl for a bit and let us see if you're still the big shot you thought you were in high school," Sean says.
You turn to Sean with your brows raised. The only thing holding you back from wiping that snarky grin off his face is Mark's arm still wrapped around you.
Mark's entire demeanor was calm as he nodded at Sean, "Alright. Me and you, right now," Mark says.
You follow Mark back down to the ground floor to get his car, riding with him. He holds your hand the entire drive back up to the third level, where spectators had already lined the pathway, expecting the next race.
"Do I really need to wish you luck?" you ask Mark as you look over at Sean overconfidently revving up his engine.
"I know I can take him. But I'd still appreciate it from you."
"Baby, you got this," you kiss his lips.
Mark watches as you sit back and lift your hips, reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down your legs. You hand the bunched-up lace to Mark, leaning over to his ear. "But just hold onto these just in case. Your good luck charm," you smirk.
Mark chuckles as he shoves your underwear into his pocket, looking over at you with a smile playing on his lips. "You just wait until I can get you alone," Mark pulls you in for one last kiss before you get out of his car.
You join everyone else on the sidelines as Yuta riles the crowd up. Mark looks over at you and winks. Yuta raises his arms, and Sean dramatically burns out his tires while Mark comfortably sits back in his seat. With him looking so relaxed, settling into his element behind the wheel makes heat pool in your lower stomach. Subtly pressing your thighs together, you begin to regret handing over your underwear, feeling the warmth between your legs.
"Go!" Yuta yells, and both cars take off. Summer grabs your hand, leading you to the elevator to head back up to the top floor.
As you all wait for Mark and Sean's cars to near the final level, the door to the stairwell swings open, and Nyla trudges through, making her way over to you all.
"Why're you out of breath?" Jeno asks, receiving a glare from Nyla.
"Jae and I were on the fourth floor, and those steps.." she gasps, "are no joke." Once she finally catches her breath, Nyla tells you, "I left my bag in your car, I need your keys."
You reach into your skirt pocket and pluck out your keys, handing them to Nyla before she heads for the elevator. Turning your attention back to the race, you recognize the sound of Mark's engine, and you smile as his car drifts up the ramp, beating Sean. Mark's tires screech against the pavement before he takes his foot off the gas and gets out of his car. The crowd rushes Mark, celebrating his win, you along with them.
"I told you you had him," you say to Mark.
"I'll say it was your good luck charm that secured it," he smirked.
But all the celebrating is cut short when you see people running before you hear the sirens making their way up the levels of the garage, and Mark instinctively grabs your hand.
"And I think that's our cue," Renjun grabs his drink and gets into Jeno's car.
It's hard to tell which direction the sirens are coming from as the sound bounces off every surface in the open space.
"Get in," Mark says to you, Summer, and Jisung.
You trust Nyla enough with your car to not even be concerned about it and jump into the passenger seat. Mark wastes no time shifting into drive once you're all inside and starts looking for an escape route. He avoids the exit everyone else was trying to leave from as a traffic jam starts building up, and people honking their horns isn't helping to get things moving.
"Is that Chenle?" you hear Summer ask from the backseat. You then turn your head to see the blue and red lights shadowing Chenle's silhouette as he runs toward Mark's car.
"Dude, come on!" Jisung yells to Chenle, opening the door.
Chenle dives head-first into the back seat, throwing himself across Summer and Jisung's laps.
"Go, go, go!" Chenle exclaims. Mark presses his foot on the gas and begins speeding away.
Finally finding a clear exit, Mark floors it before yanking his e-break as a police car turns the corner. You hear the cops' megaphone telling Mark to stop driving and for all of you to get out of the vehicle.
"Mark," you call him warily.
"I know," he shifts gears, "Hold on," he says, reversing the car, looking through the rear windshield over his shoulder, and putting his hand behind the headrest of your seat.
Mark expertly drives his car backward, turning the wheel with one hand, and the police continue to chase after you before Mark reaches another exit. Ending up back on the city streets, you lose the police tail, and you feel a sigh of relief throughout the entire car.
"Yeah I'm with her, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung," you hear Summer say. "Ningning's with Nyla and they have your car," she tells you as she's on the phone.
"Thank god. Tell them to bring it to Johnny's."
"They're already on their way."
Mark's car drives up to Johnny's house around the same time everyone else arrives. Just like always, the party goes on as if nothing had happened. Summer, Jisung, and Chenle get out of the car, Chenle already retelling the events of what just happened to Yangyang and Haechan when they meet in the front yard.
You and Mark don't get out yet, the two of you just silently holding each other's gaze. Mark had one hand lazily thrown over the wheel, sitting back in his seat as he eyed you.
"Mark, get out of the car," you tell him.
"Why?" Mark asks.
"Between the way you just handled that and the way you're looking at me right now, I can't promise I can hold myself back any longer."
Mark's eyes drift down from your face, tugging his lip between his teeth. The corners of his lips curl up as he takes his car out of park. Mark pulls his car into Johnny's garage, and the party fades into a dull hum once the door shuts. You and Mark are now alone, only in the presence of the other dormant vehicles in the garage. 
Mark turns his car off, and you push yourself out of your seat, leaning over the console to kiss him. Mark's hand blindly fumbles with the seat adjuster to move his seat back and allow you to climb into his lap. 
"What's gotten into you?" Mark asks, smiling against your lips. 
"You," you card your fingers through the soft blonde curls, "Mark, you're just so..hot," you roll your hips into his. Mark's hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt. You can already feel the wetness dripping onto Mark's jeans, the rough material deliciously dragging against your clit. You moan around Mark's tongue, and he grips your body tighter. You accidentally lean against the wheel, hitting the horn, startling yourself and Mark.
Mark laughs along with you, "Backseat?"
"Backseat," you nod before climbing into the back of his car.
Now with more room, you grab Mark and comfortably settle in his lap. You feel the bulge in his jeans against your inner thigh and roll your hips into his. Mark's head falls back against the window, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. Mark's eyes flutter shut as you cradle the back of his head and sink your teeth into his skin. The moan that falls from his lips causes you to get wetter.
"Mark?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Can I?" you ask, slipping your hand between your bodies and palming him through his pants.
"Yeah."
You slide out of his lap and quickly undo the button of his jeans. You waste no time trying to get his clothes off and just pull his cock out of his underwear, your mouth already salivating.
"Oh, Mark," you clench your thighs together, "You're so pretty."
His breathing becomes shallow as he says, "Thank you."
"You're welcome, baby," you kiss the tip of his cock before kitten-licking the drips of precum leaking down his shaft.
Mark sharply gasps, and the grin on your face grows bigger. You let spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his dick to assist your hand, jerking him. You wrap your lips around the sensitive tip, slowly sucking him into your mouth. Mark softly groans, placing his hand on your head. He brushes your hair out of the way so he can see your face.
"My god, look at you," he swipes a string of spit hanging from your lips when you come up for air. You playfully bite his thumb before taking his cock back into your mouth.
Hearing Mark's heavy breathing slowly turn into breathy whimpers encourages you to take more of him down your throat. You feel one of Mark's hands sliding down your back, flipping your skirt over your ass. He dips a finger into your pussy, humming approvingly when he feels how wet you are.
You are grateful his windows were tinted well past the legal limit just in case someone drunkenly stumbled into the garage.
"You get this wet from just sucking my dick, princess?" Mark smirks as he plays with your folds. "Such a dirty dirty girl," he calls you, making you moan around his cock and clench around his fingers. You lose focus and drop your head to his thigh.
"Mark," you whine as he curls his two fingers against your soft walls.
"Come on, baby," he strokes your head, "You're doing so good for me."
You slide his cock back into your mouth upon his words, swirling your tongue around the tip. Mark rests his head against the foggy window and utters soft praises between moans.
You smile, "You sound so pretty for me, Mark,"
"Feels so good," he tells you.
"Gonna cum for me, pretty boy?"
"Yes."
You ignore the burn in your arm and pump his cock faster in your hand. "Cum for me, Mark. I know you want to."
"I do, I do—fuck—I do," his voice cracks.
Your name mixed with his moans, had you dripping down your thighs. You bob your head to the same rhythm as your hand. Mark's thighs twitch, and he bucks his hips against your face. You feel the warmth filling your mouth as Mark cums. Waiting until you feel his cock soften against your tongue, you pull yourself off him and swallow his cum.
"Fuck," he sighs, "You're so good to me."
"Anything for my pretty boy," you kiss him.
Mark grabs the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He pushes his tongue past your lips, tasting the lingering saltiness in your mouth. Mark pulls you back on top of him to straddle his thigh. You start grinding your hips against his denim-clad leg.
"As much as I like having you beneath me I think I like seeing you on top of me more," Mark says, looking up at you. "That feel good, princess?" he asks, purposely flexing his thigh.
"Yes," you whimper.
"You that desperate, you gotta fuck yourself on my thigh like this?"
"For you, yes," you tell him.
Mark cups your ass beginning to direct your movements as he holds eye contact with you. You can't take it anymore and bury your head in his neck. "What's wrong, baby?"
"I'm gonna cum," you mumble against his throat.
"Already?" he teases. Mark pulls your face out of the crook of his neck. "Let me see your pretty face when you cum for me."
"Mark," you grab onto his shoulders.
"Yeah, sweetheart? Say my name."
"Mark, please."
You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your manicured nails into Mark's skin.
"That's it, baby. That's my good girl," he rubs his hands up your thighs, and you continue to ride out your high.
You slump against Mark's body, and he holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back.
"That was so hot." Mark says.
You smile into the kiss, "The things you do to me, Mark Lee."
You hear a knock on the door, and Mark rolls down the window just a crack to see who it is.
"Yes?" you say to Johnny, standing outside the car.
"In my garage? Really?" Johnny placed his hands on his hips like a disappointed father.
"It's my car," Mark says.
"In my garage."
"Jesus, here he goes."
"We'll be out in a sec." you say to Johnny before rolling the window back up.
"I'm not finished with you yet," Mark says as he buttons up his jeans.
"Neither am I," You grab his hand as you exit the garage and head toward the house, "And I mean…Johnny does have four other spare bedrooms," you say, and Mark smirks at you, following you into the house.
[11:25 PM] WEDNESDAY 
"Are you sure you like it?" Mark asks you for what seems like the fifth time tonight.
"Mark, why would I lie to you?" you ask.
"I don't know, you just seemed to love the blonde so much," he says, running his fingers through his silky dark hair.
Knowing Mark was planning on dying his hair back before his brother's wedding and seeing how his roots started to grow, you should've expected the change sooner rather than later. But still, you were surprised when he showed up at your parent's house for dinner, and you answered the door to find the brunette instead of the blonde you were expecting.
"Yeah, but you're still pretty, babe," you comb your fingers through his hair, making him lean into your touch.
"Thank you," he sheepishly smiles, lowering his head, attempting to hide the blush from the others rather than you. "So, I have a question for you," Mark says.
"What is it?" you ask.
"How would you like to-"
"Race wars date and location just dropped," Jaemin announces, standing from his seat.
With all of you sitting around the living room, you all wait for Jaemin to tell you.
"Well, are you gonna tell us?" Jeno asks impatiently.
"Not with that attitude," Jaemin scoffs. He clears his throat as if he's making an official announcement, stating the location before saying the date, "It starts next Friday-"
"Next Friday? Like the Friday after this one?" Mark asks.
"That is…what next Friday means?" Jaemin says.
"Mark, no," you start.
"I'm sorry," Mark looks at you apologetically.
"Wait, what?" Nyla asks.
"My brother's wedding is next Friday."
"Couldn't you just come afterwards?" Johnny asks.
"Not with that long ass drive. I know I'm good, but I'm not that good."
You were wracking your brain for every possible scenario you can come up with so that Mark would be able to go with you.
"I don't know if I'm the only one thinking this but why can't you just come down Saturday?" Chenle asks.
"I mean he could, but they changed the rule with check-in to keep too many locals from taking up space. So check-in is only available Friday. He wouldn't be able to race." Yangyang says.
"What's so wrong with that?" Summer asks.
"It's his first race wars. You really think he'd want to sit on the sidelines with you all weekend?" Renjun asks.
"Now, you listen, Huang-" Summer starts.
The bickering among your friends continued as you sit quietly, still thinking.
"What if I went with you?" you ask.
"To my brother's wedding?" Mark questions.
"I'm not trying to forcefully invite myself. But if I go with you, you and I can do that drive. We'd get there pretty late but I'm pretty sure if I talk to Taeyong I can work something out."
"You wouldn't be inviting yourself since I was just about to invite you myself."
"Really? You were gonna ask me to come as your date?" you ask, endeared.
"Well I was gonna ask you to come as my girlfriend—I mean technically you'd still be my date, but my date as my girlfriend-"
You hear nothing else after girlfriend. His girlfriend. Mark's girlfriend.
"Mark, are you kidding me?" you ask, genuinely in disbelief.
"No?"
You grab Mark's shirt and kiss him. That definitely got everyone quiet.
"Woah, woah, what did we just miss?" Haechan asks.
"I'm taking your answer as a yes," Mark says to you.
"Yes, Mark. I will come to your brother's wedding as your girlfriend," you can't help the grin stretching across your face as you say it. You then move your legs out of his lap and turn to the rest of the group. "Alright, so here's what's going to happen," you start explaining your plan to everyone.
[7:21 AM] (next) FRIDAY
"Sunny, let's go!" Nyla yells from the front door.
"I'm coming," Summer replies, dragging her oversized suitcase down the steps behind her.
Following her down the stairs, you meet the rest of your friends outside. You make sure you've packed everything you'd need for the weekend in your car before you hand your keys over to Sungchan.
"Sungchan, do you understand how much I'm trusting you right now. This is my baby," you tell him.
"Yes, I know. I promise I'll be careful with her," Sungchan nods.
You watch as Shotaro helps the younger boy hook your car up to the rig connected to the back of Sungchan's vehicle.
"Kun just called me before he boarded his flight, and said the house is ready for us. And we should really get a move on if we don't wanna hit traffic," Hendery says.
"Though I do appreciate Kun letting us use the vacation house, why isn't he going?" Goeun asks.
"He's flying out to Shanghai to meet up with Winwin. He said the car scene out there is some next level shit," Yangyang says.
"So what I'm hearing is we're making a trip to China soon," Summer says.
"Can we get to this race wars first?"
"We'll see you and Mark later tonight?" Nyla asks before she gets into Jaehyun's car. You confirm with a nod. "Have fun." she tells you.
"You too. But not too much without us," you say.
"No promises," Jaehyun playfully winks at you before driving away.
[1:19 PM]
As your Uber pulls up to the venue, you feel the smile rushing to your face when you see Mark outside waiting for you. He opens your door and holds his hand out for you.
"Wow, baby, you look…damn," he licks his lips as he stands back to get a full view of you.
"Mark, knock it off," you laugh.
Mark excitedly squeezes your hand as he walks you inside, his body seemingly buzzing.
"Babe, you okay?" you ask Mark.
"Yeah, I'm just excited to introduce you to everyone."
"We basically grew up together, Mark. Haven't I been introduced to practically everyone."
"Yeah, but not as my girlfriend," he grins.
You both made your rounds for a bit, Mark proudly showing you off to everyone before he got called away when all the groomsmen were needed for pictures, leaving you to wander over to the bar.
"I see all this secret pining has finally come to an end," you hear a voice from someone at the bar beside you. Seeing the cousin of the bride wasn't surprising, but you're still happy to see him after all these years.
"It was about time, wasn't it," you say to Doyoung.
"I'll say. It was exhausting watching you two be in love and not say anything to each other," Doyoung says.
"In love? Okay, now you're over-exaggerating," you roll your eyes, sipping your drink.
"Seulgi, back me up on this," Doyoung calls his friend.
"On what?" Seugli asks sipping on her drink, turning to you two.
"This one and Mark being so obviously in love since high school."
Seugli turns to you and starts laughing, "Oh, you're serious?" he stops laughing, "Well he's right."
"Seugli, you're not supposed to take his side!" you cross your arms over your chest.
"Sorry, kid."
Once it was time for the ceremony to start, the wedding coordinator ushered everyone to their seats. Before the groom came out, Mark walked down the aisle along with the maid of honor. 
"You ready for that to be you next?" Doyoung asks Seugli as the bride walks out . 
"Am I," she smiled at her girlfriend, who stood along with the rest of the bridesmaids. 
"I'm sorry did I miss something?" you ask. 
"Oh right, I'm engaged, by the way," Seugli says nonchalantly as music for the bride starts playing. 
"What the fuck?" you try to whisper, "Oh my god, since when?"
"Since last month," she answers. 
You don't have time to celebrate the news anymore, with Doyoung shushing the two of you as the groom and bride start their vows. 
The last time you attended a wedding was before you could even drive, so you barely remember what happened, but you can count you weren't as emotional at the last one. It may also have to do with your proximity to the couple, almost feeling as if you were watching your own brother get married. You try to keep your composure as the bride continues on her vows. 
"There's nothing in my life I regret since it had all led me to you. I knew I loved you from the second we met. You've seen my at my bests and worsts. You know about all the good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, yet you still accept and love me as I am. All the days I've spent with you, laughing, crying, smiling, yelling and there's not a single one I would take back or change-"
You can't stop the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn't really think the bride's vows would tug at your heartstrings the way they did, and all you can think about is Mark. Your eyes find his already looking at you.
As the tears fall, you give him a small smile before mouthing, "I love you," to him.
Mark tries to fight the smile coming to his face, not wanting to draw attention to himself before he mouths back, "I love you too."
You hadn't even realized the tears were streaming down your face until Doyoung handed you a tissue.
"Thank you," you whisper. 
"It's just so beautiful, isn't it?" Seugli asks, also crying and pulling out her own tissues.
[5:57 PM]
Between dancing and socializing at the reception, while waiting for the cake to be cut, you and Mark ended up leaving later than you originally planned.
By the time you were in Mark's car and on the road, the sun had started to set. Mark had one hand on the wheel while you had the other in your lap, fiddling with his fingers. You look over at him, your chest filling with warmth as you take in the way the pink and orange hues contour his features.
"You know I meant what I said before," you break the silence.
"I know," he kisses the back of your hand, "I just didn't expect you'd say it first."
"Why's that?"
"Because I know how guarded you can be with your feelings sometimes," he explains, "But still, I've been in love with you since I was 16—It's kinda crazy actually, I didn't realize it until I was already on my flight to Korea."
You ignore the tears pricking your eyes as you lean closer to Mark, peppering his face with kisses.
"I love you, Mark Lee."
[10:13 AM] SATURDAY
You wake up with the sun shining on your face. You turn over, searching for the warmth of Mark's body. Considering how tired you both were, practically collapsing onto the bed when you two finally arrive some time after two this morning, you're surprised to not find Mark still sleeping beside you, his side of the bed empty.
"Mark?" you call him without opening your eyes.
"Yeah?" you hear him reply.
"Where are you?" you ask, eyes still closed.
"I'm right here, baby," you hear his voice a lot closer as the mattress sinks under his weight.
You feel his lips on yours. Still half asleep, your reaction was delayed before you kissed him back.
"This early in the morning, Mark?" you ask with a lazy smile.
"As hard as it was to stop myself yesterday, I also have a feeling we'll be pretty busy all weekend, so I'll take every chance I get." he says.
You laugh as his nose ghost over your throat, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Mark slips his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing and cups your breast in his hand. You arch into his touch, nibbling on his bottom lip. Your head sinks into the pillows when Mark rolls the pad of his thumb over your perky nipple. Mark doesn't take his eyes away from your face as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.
Your hand finds his hair, and your fingers curl around the messy dark locks as he swirls his tongue around your areola. He gently tugs your nipple between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his thigh between your legs. 
"Mark..." you finally open your eyes to look at your boyfriend.
"Can I?" he asks, toying with the hem of your panties. 
"Please," you nod. 
Mark pulls your underwear down your legs and grips your thighs as he comfortably settles on his stomach. He guides your legs over his shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses and small bites up your thighs. Mark runs the tip of his tongue along your slit, humming when your juices land on his tastebuds. 
"Oh my god, Mark," your nails lightly scratch his scalp. 
He moans back at you in response, the vibrations from his mouth sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Your eyes screw shut, and you bite your lips so hard you're afraid you've drawn blood. You try with everything in your body to stay quiet. But with Mark messily eating you out, languidly moving his skilled tongue against your walls, you can't even stay still, let alone be quiet. 
"Please, baby, don't stop," you tell him. 
Before you even register the knock on your door, Summer enters your room, and your entire body freezes. 
"Hey-Where's Mark?"
You glance at Mark under the covers between your thighs, out of sight, and he smirks. You try to hide your reaction as he teasingly kitten-licks your clit. You squeeze your thighs around his head and quickly rush out an answer for Summer. 
"He went to go refill his tank before we go out today," you say. 
"Oh, okay. Well, breakfast is ready in ten, then we're all leaving around 11. Cool?"
You nod. "Yeah, yeah. We'll be ready by then."
Once Summer leaves, you barely have time to be relieved with Mark picking up like he never really stopped, making you cum on his tongue. 
"Fuck, Mark," you squirm, letting your orgasm wash over you. Mark continues lapping at your folds until he's satisfied. Coming from under the covers, Mark wipes the lower half of his face with the back of his hand. 
"What the fuck was that?" you ask, breathless. 
"You told me not to stop," he grins, and you roll your eyes, "You can't even act like you hate me 'cause I know you love me," he kisses you. 
"I'm beginning to rethink that decision," you tease. 
[2:24 PM]
Having been out in the sun practically all day watching races and even taking a few rides yourself, you decided to give your car and yourself a break from the sun. You parked under one of the canopies Johnny set up and took a seat on your hood. Coming back from watching Chenle race Ningning, you spot the top of Mark's head through the crowd, beginning to make his way over to you.
The look on his face can only be compared to that of a kid in a candy store. You love watching the way his eyes light up talking about the race, rambling on and on, you not minding one bit.
"So, is this everything you hoped it'd be?" you ask Mark.
He nods, subtly parting your legs to stand between them. "And so much more," he kisses you.
"Hey!" someone yells, grabbing everyone's attention, "how about you and me," Leo calls Mark out.
"Alright, how much?" Mark asks.
"No money," Leo smiles before turning to you, "I win, I get to take you out."
"As fucking if," you slide off the hood of your car, Mark instinctively wrapping his arm around you before you can get too far, some of the others coming to your defense as well. "You already had your chance and fucked that up. What makes you think I'll willingly put myself through that again? You wanna try and make yourself feel better by racing him, it'll be for two grand take it or leave it," you say to Leo.
"So he can have a shot at winning a date through a race but I can't?" Leo asks.
"Because he didn't try to win me over like I'm just a pink slip, and he doesn't have an ego bigger than an eighteen-wheeler."
"Fine. You're on, Mark," Leo nods at your boyfriend, "But we'll see if you'll feel the same when I beat him across the line," Leo smirks at you, and you scoff.
Spectators gather on either side of the runway, cheering for either racer as their cars pull up to the starting line. You had been suspiciously eyeing Leo the entire time he sat in his car with that stupid grin on his face.
"What's wrong?" Mark asks you.
"I don't doubt that you can beat him. But I don't trust he won't try anything," You say before walking up to Taeyong while Sean talks to him. "I'm riding with Mark," you tell Taeyong.
"What? You can't," Sean crossed his arms.
"There aren't any rules against it," Taeyong says.
"And how exactly do you think that'll help your little boyfriend? It can throw off his equilibrium and slow him down," Sean tries looking down his nose at you.
"Which is why you're gonna get your ass in that passenger's seat and ride with your little bestie over there," you point to Leo's car, "I mean, it's not like you haven't already gotten your own front row experience losing to my little boyfriend," you tilt your head. Sean grumbles before he walks over to Leo's car, and you get into Mark's.
"We're really doing this?" Mark asks.
"Ride or die, remember?" you hold out your hand.
Mark smiles, finishing the quote as he takes your hand, "Ride or die."
a/n: i’m telling y’all ever since ay-yo, mark has been living in my head rent free—currently the owner of a few properties, if you will. this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and tbh it would’ve been longer if there wasn’t a text block limit so i did the best with what i had 😭 and like i said before all my knowledge about cars is based off the fast and furious movies so…thank you so much for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33 tag list <33: @chardonnayyyy @aliceinwhateverland @itzz-me-duh @nctevia @sirens-dreams @pieddpiperr @yujuvly @scarletsknight
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wolfiihoney · 2 months
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Fair day with papa Toji
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I love daddy toji and baby gumi sm!!!
Please enjoy.💖 btw this isn’t my art, all credit goes to the owner.<333
Unedited hehe
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You woke up at 9 in the morning on a beautiful Saturday with a huge smile on your face.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you rolled over to Toji's side of the bed, but he was already halfway on top of you, his enormous body draped across yours.
You couldn't help but love the way he smushed you with his weight, so you whispered in his ear "Psst, Toji? Babbyyyyy, wake up.”
"Doll... what are you doing?" Toji mumbled, still half asleep.
He was used to your morning antics and secretly loved them.
You kissed his shoulder and nestled into it, wishing you could merge with his skin. Toji felt the same way about you.
"Mmm, doll," he said, flipping onto your back so that he could hover over you, his large hand gently caressing your soft face. "I'm sure it's much earlier than the time we actually need to be up on a Saturday."
He looked down at you, his sharp eyes soft with affection.
"You always wake up so early on the weekends," he said with a small smile, continuing to stroke your cheek. "I don't know how you do it."
He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.
"You're like a little sunbeam in the morning, always so full of energy. It’s not very contagious, baby” he said “So tell me why are we up?”
You laughed at the big sleepyhead “It’s fair day! We promised Megumi we’d take him to the fair today, remember?”
Toji's sleepy smile widened as you reminded him of his promise to Megumi.
"Ah, right," he said, his eyes fully open now. "We did promise to take him to the fair, didn't we? Can't have the little troublemaker feeling disappointed."
You gave him a playful little shove on his sculpted chest, trying to maintain focus.
"Now, behave yourself," you scolded, secretly enjoying the way view he was giving, he could be quite distracting. A quick glance at his muscular form and you knew if you weren't careful, you'd never leave the bed.
“Okay toji get dressed, I’ll go wake gumi up.” You said hopping out of bed over to the lovely dresser Toji built for you. You were going through the huge dresser fiddling through the huge folded stack of underwear, underwear that Toji keeps buying. “Ugh Toji, I wish you’d stop buying me so much underwear. I can never find my comfortable ones.”
Toji chuckled from the bed, his eyes still on you as you sifted through the drawer of underwear.
"Aww, but doll, seeing you in those cute little lacy things is one of my favorite pastimes," he said, a cheeky grin on his face.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, your fingers still digging through the pile of undergarments.
"Yeah, I know you like them, but these are too uncomfortable," you whined, holding up a particularly fancy pair of lace panties. Toji laid back on the bed, arms behind his head and completely naked, the blanket riding precariously low on his hips.
He gave you a smirk, his eyes raking over your form.
"Aww, doll, no need to wear any underwear," he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Daddy likes easy access anyway."
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you hurried out of the bedroom towards the bathroom.
"Toji, stop it!" you exclaimed, hands covering your flushed face.
He let out a loud laugh as you fled the room.
After composing yourself in the bathroom mirror, you emerged from the shower to find your sweet baby Megumi sitting at the table, indulging in whatever Toji had prepared for him.
"Good morning, sweetie," you greeted, giving his hair a warm ruffle.
"Hi, Mommy" Megumi replied, crumbs falling from his mouth a little as he looked up at you with a beaming smile.
You couldn't help but smile back at your mature baby. He certainly had inherited his father's laid-back demeanor, a striking contrast to your bubbly personality.
Toji patted Megumi's head affectionately as the little boy hurried to finish his breakfast.
"That's my boy," Toji said, a hint of pride in his voice. "Eat up, the fair starts in twenty minutes. We don't wanna miss out on the fun, do we?"
Megumi shook his head vigorously, a giggle escaping his lips as he shoveled the food into his mouth with increased haste.
Toji watched megumi with pride as he ate his breakfast, The family you both had built together was a testament to Toji's determination and resilience, silencing all those who once doubted him.
He looped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer for a quick kiss. That simple gesture from him filled your morning with even more warmth and joy, and you responded with a soft smile, basking in the affection he showered upon you.
The fair was bustling with energy as little kids ran about, their tongues stained blue from cotton candy and joyous screams filling the air. However, the day wasn't all fun and games for everyone, as the sound of a little girl crying from dropping her ice cream cone in the background (Toji laughed at her a bit)
You had, unfortunately, taken on a roller coaster ride a little too intense for your stomach, leaving you leaning against Toji and heaving into a nearby trash can.
Toji gently rubbed your back. “Are you okay, doll?” He said with a little chuckle and with a weak smile you nodded
You managed a slightly sheepish grin, "Yeah, I think I'm good," you said, still getting over the rollercoaster-induced nausea. "It was fun though… maybe I should go again!?”
Toji chuckled at your suggestion to go again, shaking his head fondly. "Maybe rest first, huh?" he replied, knowing he wanted to tell you to sit your ass down but couldn't resist the sight of your smile.
Toji's heart warmed as he heard your attempt to brush off the aftermath of the rollercoaster ride. He knew you were always the daredevil type, yet seeing you look a little green around the edges softened his heart.
Megumi on the other hand, blissfully unaware of the situation, was having a blast, running around and enjoying the fair. Toji watched his favorite little guy have the time of his life and Seeing his son so happy made Toji a little emotional, and a slight blush dusted his cheeks. Toji's heart filled with a mixture of joy and sadness as he watched Megumi running around, thoroughly enjoying the fair. Seeing his son so carefree and happy stirred up memories of his own troubled childhood. A melancholy smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his eyes glassed over.
Toji couldn't help but contrast his own youth with the beautiful scene unfolding in front of him. It was a moment of bittersweet emotion, as he cherished the sight of Megumi's happiness while carrying the weight of his difficult past, and it made him slightly teary-eyed, though he tried to conceal it. You on the other hand noticed Toji's demeanor turn slightly sad and it made you worry, not wanting to ruin anyone's fun you brushed it off but only for now.
After the fun-filled fair, you were all back home, preparing for dinner. Toji was locked in a playful, totally not serious game of “tug-of-war” with Megumi over a piece of candy the little one had won earlier. As you were in the kitchen, thoughts of Toji's sudden emotional moment at the fair danced through your mind. Knowing that expressing his feelings wasn't his strongest suit and that you weren't much better, therapy was something you both attended weekly. But now, you found yourself wondering about the emotions Toji had experienced that day.
Once dinner was over and Megumi safely tucked into bed, you stepped into the living room and found Toji sitting quietly on the couch, his gaze fixated on a stuffed animal.
Toji seemed lost in thought, his eyes distant and contemplative. He didn't notice your approach at first, his mind seemingly miles away. As you stood there studying him, a mixture of curiosity and concern filled your heart.
You sat down beside Toji, your touch on his hand gentle and soothing. "Whatcha thinking about baby?" you asked quietly.
He sighed softly, returning the squeeze to your hand. "Just... how proud I am of Megumi," he confessed.
Your heart swelled with affection at his words. "He's truly amazing," you agreed, giving him a tender kiss on the cheek. "And it's all because of you," you added, acknowledging his role in Megumi's upbringing.
Toji let out a soft chuckle, his gaze fixing on you. "Nah," he replied, his smile gentle. "It's because of you."
You decided to probe further, sensing his earlier emotions. "Toji, why did you get so emotional earlier today? Is everything okay?"
Toji inhaled deeply, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before returning to your gaze. "I've told you about my childhood and seeing Megumi reminded me of how much neglect I experienced," he shared, his voice heavy with memories. You nodded, empathy etched on your face. "I know, Toji," you said gently, holding his hand as a gesture of support.
"But you're breaking that cycle," you continued, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "You're providing Megumi with love and care, and though that’s something you may have not received as a child, you're giving him the childhood you deserved."
Toji's eyes softened at your words, vulnerability flashing across his face. He looked down at your intertwined hands, the weight of your understanding sinking in.
"I never want Megumi to feel the loneliness and indifference I experienced," he admitted his voice a mixture of pain and determination. "I want him to have a family, a home, and a father that would love him no matter what. I never want him to know the emptiness I felt growing up."
As Toji's confession settled in the air, the weight of his past and the love he held for his son hung heavy between you both. Feeling a need to comfort him, you delicately moved closer, your hand still holding his.
"You're doing such a wonderful job with him," you encouraged gently. "Megumi is so lucky to have you as his father. You're giving him everything you never had, and that's what makes you an incredible dad." Toji's lips curled into a bittersweet smile as he looked at you. "I just want him to have a better life than I did," he said quietly.
You moved even closer, your presence a gentle balm to his troubled heart. "And he does," you reassured him. "He has a loving family, a stable home, and a father who cares for him deeply."
Toji's gaze shifted back to yours, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and appreciation. "You always know how to make me feel better," he murmured, squeezing your hand affectionately.
The emotional intensity began to lift a bit, replaced by a warm sense of comfort. Toji's smile softened, and he gently rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand.
He chuckled lightly then said, "You know, it's not just Megumi who's lucky. I got pretty damn lucky finding you too."
Your heart fluttered at his words, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Oh, stop it," you chided playfully, gently swatting at his shoulder.
But Toji wasn't having any of it. He pulled you closer, his free arm wrapping around your waist. "I mean it," he said, his gaze intense. "Finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me."
As the moment between you and Toji deepened, a lighthearted mood began to settle in. Toji's eyes twinkled with amusement as he tightened his arm around your waist.
"Now that Megumi's asleep," he began, his voice low and sultry, "how about you give me a little fashion show with all of those uncomfortable panties you were complaining about earlier, huh?"
“Bye Toji!” You shouted as you ran out of the living room and all you could hear was the boom of laughter coming from your crazy husband
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fic-over-cannon · 9 months
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Words Left Unsaid
jason todd x f!reader
ao3 link
summary: jason todd is your childhood best friend. he dies before his Words come in, the first words his soulmate will say to him, and you have to pick up the pieces.
tags: soulmate au, major character death (temporary), grief
rated mature | wc: 8.8k
a/n: so this monster of a story was based on an ask i sent to @jasonsmirrorball a while back (don’t read for spoilers). it pretty much took on a life of its own, and now here we are nearly 9k later. it does get pretty dark in its exploration of grief, so please take care of yourselves my lovelies.
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Everyone’s born with Words somewhere on their body, unreadable at first. The skin is shiny, like an old scar, the words blurry and undefined. One day, you’ll see the first words you’ll ever hear your soulmate say to you, that shiny patch of skin blooming like ink (there’s superstitions about the colour your Words fade into, as popular as astrology). The trick of the thing is, you won’t find out what your Words are until you’ve become the person who is meant to hear them. You could meet your soulmate a hundred times and not know it, not until you’ve both grown into the people you need to be. The youngest person to get their Words was seven, and the oldest 92 years young. Or so the stories go. When you’re young, still poking at your loose front tooth with your tongue, it’s a story that comforts you. It’s the story you beg your parents for before bed every night. It’s the carrot they use to get you to try new things and go new places. What if you meet your soulmate at the new movie theatre downtown? How do you know eating your veggies won’t develop you into who your soulmate needs you to be?
It’s what your mother uses to try and coax you out of the car for your first day at a new school. She’s driven you to school for your first day, a one off so she can finish up your admittance paperwork. In this moment you hate her for it. It’s February and the year is more than halfway over. The snow has melted into dirty grey slush in the streets and the pinching Mary Janes the school mandates as part of the uniform are going to provide no protection. It’s halfway through the year and you’re certain no one is going to be your friend at a new school in a new city. You’re twelve years old and to you this is the end of the world. You’re trying so hard not to cry, hugging yourself together and burying your chin in your chest.
“Come on, honey, this is a school. It’ll help you become who you need to be.”
Your mother’s voice is cajoling, trying to coax you out the same way she coaxed a stray cat into her arms. It worked on the cat, now named Haley after the comet, but it doesn’t work on you. She tries to catch your eye in the rear view mirror but you stubbornly turn your head to look out the window instead.
“Please. Work with me here. We’ll go in together, you’ll have a wonderful day and make so many friends. And after school, I’ll take you out for donuts and you can tell me all about it before your Dad gets home.”
You keep silent, continue to stare out the window at all the other kids walking into the building.
“Honey, please. Can you just do this one thing for me, please.”
She’s almost begging now, and you hate the way it makes her sound. You want to tell her how scared you are, how there’s nothing more you want to do except huddle under your covers in your unfamiliar bed and hold Haley close. But your fear is a hot ball in your chest, choking off any words that might come out. You look at her though, plead with her with your eyes to understand how much you don’t want to do this. She stares back at you, an exhausted slump to her shoulders and lines around her eyes you don’t remember being there. Slowly, you unwrap your arms from around your rib cage. Place a hand on each knobbly knee and slowly curl them into fists before nodding, once, sharply, eyes firmly fixed on the car seat in front of you. Your eyes burn, but the sigh of relief your mother heaves out is worth it.
Gotham Academy is housed in a collection of gothic stone buildings which should have been strange in a large city like Gotham but weirdly works. You just think it’s creepy. Head down, you follow your mother’s back weaving through the crowds of students. You don’t want to see the stares, but you can already feel them boring into you. Sitting in the secretary’s office, you pick at invisible lint on your knitted tights. You know your mother’s having a conversation with the secretary but it all flies over your head in shushing murmurs. Your back aches from the overstuffed chair. The Mary Janes do pinch, makes you worried that you’ve already twisted your ankles from the way they throb.
“I’ve got to get to work now sweet pea, but I just now you’re going to have a great first day. I’ll pick you up at 4:00 and we can go get those donuts okay?”
Your mother’s crouched down in front of you, eyes searching your face for any kind of reaction. She looks worried and that’s what causes you to crack. You fling yourself out of the chair and into her arms, allow yourself one great heaving sob into her shoulder. She strokes your hair and hushes you, squeezes you tight like she could make you part of her.
“Oh honey. Everything’s scary right now but I promise it’s not going to stay that way. I believe in you and you’re going to get through this.”
You draw back from her, scrub at your face with your fists. Heaving breaths don’t help but they don’t make it worse. You go with the secretary, new schedule twisted tight in your hands. She lets you discard your coat and backpack in a locker, before walking you to your new homeroom. You only hope that you’ll remember the locker combination.
You hate the way your new homeroom teacher makes you stand at the front of the room. Mr. Mulligan won’t let you sit down until you introduce yourself to the class, a thing he could have done so easily himself. Pulling at your sleeves and trying not to make eye contact with anyone, you stutter out a few basic facts. Hate the way you can feel the other students catalogue you, the way your hair doesn’t look shiny and straight like its fresh out of a salon, your too small shoes, the unfashionably long length of your skirt and the lack of designer accessories. Your cheeks and eyes are burning by the time you can slide down into your assigned seat near the back of the class. There’s only one other person sitting in your row, a boy with dark curling hair and a shy grin. He leans over to your desk just Mr. Mulligan starts the lecture.
Whispers, “Hi! My name’s Jason. I already know your name, figured if we’re going to be seat mates its only fair you know mine.”
You smile tightly and turn back to the lesson. You’re desperate not to miss anything, already feeling like you’ve been left behind. At your old school, you were in the middle of The Great Gatsby, but Gotham Academy is doing Romeo and Juliet for their seventh grade English class. You don’t have the play book, have no idea what part of the text they’re talking about, and this is the first time you’ve actually heard Shakespeare read out loud. Writing as fast you can, you try to keep up but it doesn’t matter how good your notes are if you don’t understand what the teacher’s talking about.
Usually you love English class, how uncovering symbolism and hidden meanings make you feel like you’re uncovering secret messages sent by the authors years in the past. Now it’s all going over your head and you hate it here so much already. The one class that you might have been looking forward to and you’re overwhelmed by it. You press too hard with your pencil, tear through the sheet of paper in front of you.
A notebook slides across your desk. Messy but legible writing on the first few scenes of the Act are written on it. Looking in the direction it came from, you make eye contact with Jason. He grins toothily before turning back to the front, Mr. Mulligan having moved on to a different quotation. The gesture makes your chest tight.
The rest of the class goes by uneventfully if still a challenge. There’s a short break between classes in which you frantically copy down the notes and slide the notebook back to him before your next teacher arrives. The next class isn’t so bad, still difficult and you’ve never liked math as much as you probably should, but it’s less intimidating than English. Someone must have fiddled with the thermostat during the break because the room feels colder than before. You wish you were on your old school’s schedule with shorter classes and more breaks. Sitting still for so long at your desk is making your back ache and cramp up. Math is almost over, Miss Lewis writing out the assigned homework on the board, when a wave of something comes over you. It’s an effort of will not to curl up on your desk.
The bell rings for lunch break and you just about bolt to the first bathroom you can find. Something’s wrong with you, more than just nerves over the first day. You’re cold but you’re sweating, nausea burning at the back of your throat. The ache in your back and stomach are almost unbearable, makes you want to curl into the fetal position to ward off invisible blows. Rolling down your tights in a hurry, you sit down on the cold toilet as fast as you can. Your hand is wet, and for a moment you worry that you’d lost control of your bladder on the way to the bathroom. But the stain on your hand is dark, matches the blood slick crotch of your panties. You hang your head and can feel the tears you’ve been holding onto all morning drop onto the floor. Just another thing you can’t control in this shitty new town and its stupid new school. Your first period.
The bathroom is cold, hard tile under your feet and wintery sunlight weak through the windows near the ceiling. The blood on your fingers is cold and tacky now. There’s a boundary here, between childhood and being an adult that you aren’t ready to cross yet. I want my mom, you think, only on the edge of hysteria. But she’s at work, wouldn’t be able to come if you called.
So you do what needs to be done, stop your tears as best as you can and sniffle. Wipe your face clean with the back of your sleeve and do your best to dab at your underwear with the single ply toilet paper. Layer sheets of toilet paper between your tights and underwear, build a makeshift pad in your sort-of dry underwear out of toilet paper and hope that it will hold up. Luckily you’ve escaped staining the regulation uniform skirt, so no one should be able to tell what happened. You get transfixed by the swirls of blood washing down the sink drain, hands gone numb under the stream of water. Splash cold water on your face in the vain hope it’ll calm down your puffy eyes. As ready as you can be in this situation, you eye yourself in the mirror and tell yourself to get moving before the bell for third period rings.
The boy from the back row is waiting outside the classroom for you. He looks nervous until he sees you, lights up with that shy smile again.
“Hi! I uh noticed you weren’t at lunch today so I grabbed you an apple in case you didn’t grab anything to eat.”
He’s babbling on about the cafeteria food not being that bad if you’d just try it, even though finding a table the first time can be rough. All you can do is stare at the apple in his hands, transfixed. You’re only shaken out of your stupor by the sound of him calling your name.
“So… are you going to take it? The bell’s going to ring soon and the teachers really don’t like us eating during class.”
“Thank you,” you say, genuinely shocked and touched.
He goes a little bashful at that, looks away as you take the apple from him. The apple’s good, sweet and crisp under your teeth. You make quick work of it in the hallway, finishing it up just as the bell rings. Jason stands right in front of you the whole time, hides you from the penetrating eyes of your classmates.
“All done? We should probably find our seats now. Monty,” and here he adopts a snooty British accent, “Archibald the Third is a real stickler for being on time. He’ll mark you late if you’re not sitting in your seat, even if you’re in the classroom.”
His impression makes you snicker and forget, just for a moment, how miserable you are. Mr. Archibald the Third is just as ridiculous as Jason’s impression of him predicted, but you get through it by making eye contact with Jason over the most ridiculous moments. Mr. Archibald really does have you call him “the Third”. It’s probably got something to do with his Words, a flowing script running vertically down the side of his face reading, “The Third, dear God how many of you are there?”. History with Mr. Archibald manages to be fun despite his absurd demeanor and your own private hurt seeming less terrible for a few scattered moments.
The final class of the day drags on, the pain in your front and back growing. Your hand moves across the page but your mind isn’t really paying attention. There’s a commotion as people gather their things and stand, already streaming out the door. You blink, stupefied, then slowly gather your things.
“Same time, same place tomorrow then?”
“—Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow Jason.”
Your mother’s waiting for you in front of the school, car idling puffs of smoke into the darkening afternoon. Your backpack lands in the back seat and you crush your face into her coat across the console. Her hands come to your back, patting and rubbing circles until your breath comes in long, even draws.
“Honey I’m so proud of you. Your first day done! Let’s go celebrate, hmm? How was it? Did you make any new friends?”
“Can we get the donuts to go? I— uh, um I— I might have started my period today?”
Your voice lifts on the end of the sentence, suddenly absurdly worried about her reaction. You needn’t have worried though.
“Oh sweet pea, on your first day too? We can go home, get you a bath and something for your cramps.”
“No, I just really want to go get donuts with you because today kind of sucked and I’ll still feel kinda shitty but at least then I get donuts while I feel bad.”
“No more swearing and we’ll get a whole box to go, okay?”
Lying in bed that night, wrapped around a hot water bottle with Haley on your feet, you think that your day wasn’t that bad. It could have been a lot worse, and Jason was surprisingly nice. You stare at the shiny patch of skin on your wrist and hope that one day it will all be worth it. You drift off to the thought of blue eyes.
For the rest of that week you join Jason at his corner in the cafeteria. Between Math and History you slowly start to get to know one another. He offers to let you borrow his notes for the upcoming test in English, gets a little sheepish when he mentions that he practically knows the content by heart anyway. Jason’s sweet and funny and by Friday you two are the best of friends.
Once your mother is confident that you can handle the commute to school on your own, she doesn’t mind if you’re home late as long as you send a text first. Something about socializing with more kids your age being good for you, not that you’re listening too distracted in the haze of victory. So the two of you hang out after school, the city your shared playground. Jason treats you to your first chili dog and laughs when you get some on your nose. In revenge, you dare him to cover his lunch in chili oil at lunch the next day. The way Mr. Archibald threatens you both with detention for being disruptive is so worth it.
It’s not until the middle of April that you get the courage to ask Jason why you. Why out of everyone in the school he chose to reach out to the new kid and make her his friend. It’s probably the most personal thing you’ve asked him yet.
“It’s ‘cause no one else would’ve. Most of the kids here, their families founded Gotham and they’re not keen on outsiders. Most of the scholarship kids, they start at the same time, form a group so the rich kids don’t pick on them so much.” He pauses here, has to look away before he goes on. “Most of the others don’t like me ‘cause I don’t really fit into either category, you know? Like my dad’s a big name in Gotham but he only just adopted me so I’m not really one the rich kids but he’s doing more than just paying my school fees. You looked just as lonely as I was,” here he turns to grin, “and I wasn’t going to give up an opportunity to make someone carry my lunch tray.”
“Hey, idiot, if I remember right it was you bringing me lunch the first time.” You shove at him indignantly, but he dodges too quickly for you.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t remember, on account of me being an idiot.” He flicks you on the tip of the nose and goes running.
And then it’s on. You chase him around the park, laughing and swearing to get your revenge on him. The two of you collapse breathlessly onto a mostly dry patch of dirt under a skeletal tree. Staring up at the sky and trying to catch your breath, you feel Jason nudge at your should beside you.
“So what about you? What brought you to the happiest place on earth?”
“My dad got headhunted for a promotion. He’s researching something for Wayne Industries and all of us had to move here for it. So mom gets a new job and I get transferred to a new school.” You sit up suddenly, look down at Jason lying in the grass. “Promise not to tell anyone?” You wait for him to nod first before continuing. “I only got into Gotham Academy because of my dad. I heard him and my mom arguing about it; he made it part of his contract that I’d get to go to school there if he accepted the job.”
“So? I’m only at GA because of my dad too. You think a kid from Crime Alley gets to go to private school without a little nepotism?”
You slump back down on to the grass, stretch a hand out to the sky and look up at it.
“To nepotism I guess.”
A hand reaches up to the sky next to yours. Slowly, ever so slowly he reaches a pinky out and links it with yours.
“To two misfits only here because of nepotism.”
School lets out in June, the city air ridiculously hot and humid. You can’t say that you’ve made any good friends outside of Jason, but there’s some girls you say hello to in the halls. You mourn not being able to see Jason everyday, but the plans you have to meet up are enough to soothe the ache.
He takes you to an arcade first, the two of you spending hours trying to beat each other at Pac Man. Tired but happy you split a basket of fries at the attached cafeteria. You’re enjoying the greasy fried goodness of the snack but you notice Jason isn’t reaching for the basket as quickly as you are. Looking over at him, you notice him staring at a pair of brothers playing a game. The younger whoops, jumps up and down in excitement. The older one ruffles his brother’s hair and challenges him to a new round. You toss a fry in Jason’s direction, surprised when he actually manages to catch it.
“You good?”
“—Yeah. It’s just, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it? But I kind of have an older brother and he was supposed to take me to the arcade last weekend but he got in a fight with Dad and just left.”
“That’s a real dick move, ditching you over his issues.” At that, Jason breaks out in hysterical laughter, almost choking on the fry in his mouth. There are tears in his eyes by the time he stops coughing but he looks slightly less like a kicked puppy.
“It really, really was. You don’t know how much it was.”
Happy that the mood has lifted, the two of you finish off the basket of fries. You challenge Jason to Dance Dance Revolution and he wipes the floor with you. He’s way more athletic than you’d expected from him. The two of you part ways happy, already planning your next hang out. It is enough.
You meet up almost every week that summer. Jason shows you the Gotham he knows, little hidden gems only locals know about. A movie theatre that only shows movies made before 1980, a diner with the best milkshakes you’ve ever tasted, the best places in the public library to read undisturbed. Teaches you about the safest places to evacuate when disaster hits, which parts of the city are most dangerous. The park and its chili dog stand quickly become a favourite for you, a place to just hang out without any responsibilities. It also becomes a kind of confessional of sorts, where you end up telling each other your worst fears and secret hopes.
You confess once, after riding out your first Rogue attack with your fingers buried in Jason’s T-shirt, that you’re worried you’ll never feel at home again. That you can never go back now to your old house and feel at home there now, but that Gotham still feels too alien to be called home yet. Your darkest fear, that you’ll end up alone one day, deserted by everyone that you know and love. Jason tells you about his fears that one day all of this, Bruce and Alfred, the manor, school, will disappear one day. That the big brother he looks up to will never start to like him. Every time the two of you bare your souls to each other, Jason will hook his pinky over yours and squeeze. It’s a friendship built on shared secrets, on fears assuaged, and worries made better.
Your last year of middle school is largely uneventful. You got to classes, have lunch with Jason, hang out after class with Jason, text Jason. You get into a routine and that brings you comfort. There’s a slight period of awkwardness right before the 8th grade formal. A weird tension envelopes you both, the nebulous question of if you’re going together hanging over you. You don’t like it, the way Jason seems almost hesitant in all your conversations these days. It sets your teeth to itching and you can’t stand it anymore.
Slamming down your textbook, you say “Okay that’s it. I can’t stand whatever this is. You and I are going to the formal as friends. We’ll get all dressed up and if it’s lame we can ditch and go get Batburgers.”
“Oh thank God. I didn’t want to say anything in case it made it awkward but then it was just getting more awkward and then I just didn’t know what to do.”
The party is lame, but the burgers make up for it. Your dress is nice though. Your mother helped you pick it out, the fitted bodice and loose swing of the skirt making you feel passably pretty. It’s been hard to feel pretty with the way your body’s changed over the year, hips widening and chest starting to grow in ways you can’t predict. Jason cleans up nice, though whoever slicked back his hair went overboard on the gel. You pose for a picture all dressed up together, faces pulled into silly expressions, your burgers held in front of you like trophies. You pin a copy of the photo up in your bedroom. It makes you smile every time you see it, something warm in your chest.
The first day of high school brings back those first day jitters. You’re not even transferring schools, just switching to a different building and still your palms are sweating. It’s not until you see Jason, sitting in the back row with an empty seat behind him that you can release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It’s different teachers and different subjects, but in some ways it’s like the day you met again. Scribbling notes until your hands cramp, Jason passing you notes in class, struggling to keep up with what the teachers are saying. At lunch, you and Jason even split an apple between you. It’s terrifying and familiar and all the more bearable because you aren’t going through it alone.
High school is different. Everyone’s more aware of each other in ways they weren’t in middle school. Girls wear brighter lip glosses and flaunt the shiny spaces where their marks will come in. Boys douse themselves in too much body spray and start eyeing up anything that moves. But through out it all, your friendship remains the same. Something about high school solidifies things, has you go from You and Jason to YouandJason. At school you’re a unit, almost impossible to think of you as separate beings. After school, you still spend time together, still explore the city, still message all the time. But you’ve still never been to each other’s houses. Never met each other’s families yet.
Jason offers, once, to have you over to the manor during the winter break, but you’re not keen on it. Crinkle up your nose and ask to think about it.
“It’s not that I don’t want to see you over the holiday, or meet your family Jason. It’s just that I kind of like the way things are? My family knows that you’re my best friend, they’ve seen pictures of us, but the way things are now, you’re still entirely mine. Our friendship’s just for us. Meeting your family kind of changes that.”
“I like us being us. But would it really be that different to come hang out for a few hours? You could come over when Dad’s out and it’d just be me and Alfred.”
Eventually you agree, spend an afternoon with Jason at the manor to cram for your next round of tests. Mr. Pennyworth is lovely, keeps bringing snacks up to the library as an excuse to check up on you. Bent over your books, you miss the significant looks Alfred is sending Jason over your head and the blush that lights up his face in response. Mr. Wayne is thankfully not home. You’re not sure you could have handled meeting Jason’s grandfather and father in the same visit.
Jason makes it over to your apartment a few times over the spring semester. Your father’s always working, but your mother likes him well enough. She makes him stay over for dinner, won’t let him leave without feeding him first. She calls him a nice boy and tells him to come back any time. Still, you two prefer going out to coffee shops or the library to hang out, uninterrupted by well-meaning adults.
It’s on one of those summer nights, the two of you some of the last people in the public library, that the subject of your Words comes up. The skin across your left wrist catches the warm light of the lamps in a way that’s distracting. You’re startled by the feeling of fingers tracing featherlight over still-shiny skin.
“You ever wonder it about it sometimes? What it’ll say or who’ll say it?” The tone is unreadable but Jason’s voice is above the whisper he usually uses in the library, but with so few people around you figure there’s no harm in mimicking his volume.
“I used to. I was obsessed with Words when I was little. Couldn’t go to sleep without hearing about them as a bed time story.”
“Used to?” And Jason’s fingers are still there, drawing maddening little patterns across the thin skin of your wrist.
“Well, I’ve got other things to think about now, things that are actually within my control.”
Jason presses down, gently, with the broad of his thumb on your pulse. You snatch back your wrist, cradle it to your chest, uncertain of how intimate that gesture felt.
“Fair’s fair. I showed you mine, now you’ve gotta show me yours.” Your tone is teasing, trying to capture the earlier lightness of the afternoon.
“Oh I do, do I?”
He reaches for the top button on his uniform button down, starts undoing two more. Horrified, you reach across the table and grab at his hands.
“What are you doing?! You can’t just go around stripping in public!” Your hissed whisper may not have been said at all for all the impact it makes. Jason shakes off your hands and goes back to undoing his shirt.
“Not all of us are blessed with easily accessible Words. Relax, I just have to get the shirt wide enough to show how far the Words will go.”
Across his collarbone is a thin strip of shiny skin, reaching from one side of his neck to the other like a necklace. Whatever it will say looks pretty lengthy for someone’s Words. Mesmerized, you reach out to trace it with your fingertips. Jason shifts back before you can make contact.
“Gotta buy me dinner first sweetheart. I’m a classy lady like that.”
You flush at the term of endearment, but cover it with indignation.
“Hey! What do you call the tacos I bought for us yesterday?”
He laughs it off and the tense moment is broken. You pack up your things, smiling at the ground. You like the way sweetheart sounds coming from Jason, not that you’d give him that to tease you with. Despite how much you tell each other, there’s one secret you haven’t told him yet. That privately you hope your Words will be his. It’s so easy to fall in love with Jason, or at least what passes for love at this age. The light in his eyes when he rants about the latest book he’s read, when he shares the biscuits Alfred packs for him, the way he listens to you so intently even if he doesn’t have all the answers. You can admit to yourself that you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend, but never out loud. Your friendship is one of the most important things in your life and you are terrified of destroying it.
You don’t see Jason much after that, that summer. Your texts and calls still get answered, but he’s frustratingly vague about meeting up. He says that his dad has him in a kind of summer school, wants him to learn from private tutors before school starts up in the Fall again. Asking about what it is that he’s supposed to learn (his marks are already incredibly good) makes him cagey about it. You don’t want to push, but it feels like he’s pulling away from you. Phone calls get shorter, sentences more clipped. Your offers to just drop by the manor to see him get turned down automatically. It’s the longest you’ve gone without seeing him since you’ve met. You’re terrified that he’s done with you. That for some unnameable reason he’s decided to end your years of friendship and there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening. Gotham seems colder without Jason at your side, the dangers more obvious and your usual haunts less welcoming.
Finally, after nearly two months you manage to pin him down, get him to agree to meet the day after his birthday. Your heart is in your mouth as you wait for him on a bench in the park. There’s a trickle of sweat running down your back. It’s a hot day but the park is a lush green, an after effect from an Ivy attack the night before. You release your grip on your present for Jason, smooth the envelope and hope you didn’t crease it with your sweaty fingers. A voice is calling your name.
Jason’s been changed by the weeks apart. He’s a few inches taller now, filled out in the shoulders more. You have to crane your neck back to see his face. The anxiety in you is reflected in his face, the way he nervously runs his fingers through his hair, his darting eyes. Uncertain how to proceed, you thrust the envelope out between you.
“Happy Birthday.”
“I— thank you.”
There’s silence again, and the awkwardness between you is a tangible thing. It’s worse than it was in eighth grade only this time you don’t know how to bridge the gap. You look down at your shoes, the toes scuffed.
“I’m sorry for ignoring you.” It comes out of him in a rush. “I’ve been a really shitty friend lately. Just, all summer my dad’s been on me about studying with these private tutors except they’re all friends with Dick so nothing I do can ever be good enough in comparison and every day I’ve felt like crap but I didn’t want you to see me like this which only made me feel worse ‘cause then I basically had to avoid you all the time which is the exact opposite of what I wanted to do and all I wanted to do was have you tell me there’s nothing wrong with me and they can all go kick dirt but then I’d have to talk to you about it which I wasn’t ‘cause I was already embarrassed.” He has to pause here to catch his breath, words running together at the speed which he was going.
“You planning to breathe any time soon?”
He deflates, collapses onto the bench next to you, an arm tucked around his right side awkwardly holding the card so it doesn’t get crushed. You sigh, heavily.
“I thought you didn’t want to be friends anymore.” Your confession is barely above a whisper. You can’t even look at him as you say it.
“I didn’t— I wouldn’t. I need you to know that I never, ever don’t want to be your friend okay? I was an idiot. I’m sorry.”
“Promise not to cut me out again and that you won’t take out your own issues on our friendship, and maybe I’ll consider forgiving you.”
“Pinky promise.”
Jason places the card in his lap, goes to link your fingers together, then winces at the movement of his arm. Suddenly sirens are going off in your brain.
“What’s wrong with your side?”
“Nothing, must have just pulled a muscle or something.” He tries to laugh it off nervously, but you can tell when he’s lying. His eyes dart to the left over your head, knee bounces almost imperceptibly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you know he’s not telling you the truth.
“You can’t even go a full minute without cutting me out! Jason, I know something is wrong. Now tell me.”
He hesitates, and you’ve had it with the lies and the avoidance and the being kept in the dark. You fingers go to the hem of his shirt and you start tugging.
“Hey! Wh-what are you doing?”
He tries to squirm away, batting at your hands but you get his shirt up far enough to see the bruise on his ribs in the shape of a boot. It’s purple going a sickly yellow, mottled and stark against the dips of his ribs. You can feel all the blood drain from your face. Jason’s pushed up against the far side of the bench, pulling his shirt down with shaking hands.
“Jason. Jason if someone is hurting you, you need to tell someone. If it's your dad or one of the tutors, we can find someone to tell together.”
“No one— no one’s hurting me, all right? I just didn’t get out of the way fast enough during a Rogue attack. I didn’t want to worry you, that’s all. No one’s abusing me, okay?”
“But you’d tell me if they were?”
“I tell you everything important.”
It’s not enough, not nearly for you. From the look in his eyes Jason knows this too, but its all he’s willing to give. There’s a crossroads in your relationship here, a road where you push and push until you get the full story but shatter the tattered strands of your friendship or you accept that you’ll never have all of Jason but maybe your friendship will survive. So you do what needs to be done.
“Okay. If you say that’s what happened then I trust you.”
It’s a low blow, to twist your trust in him like a knife, but it’s your only way to express your frustration with him. You gesture to the envelope, fishing around to change the subject.
“So you going to open that or what?”
And just like that, there’s a new normal. You see Jason everyday in class but he begs off your after school hangouts as often as you two actually spend time together. Conversation is stilted, hidden undercurrents to them of subjects neither one of you wants to address. You’re wary, suspicious of every bump and bruise Jason shows up with. The ease to your friendship has gone, disappeared to the realm of the past.
At the end of October, Jason becomes obsessed with the news. Keeps checking headlines and obituaries, fearful like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. The death of Felipe Garzonas makes the news and the tension in Jason ratchets up. He’s irritable, stops paying attention in classes, blows up when you try to feel out what’s wrong. He’s apologetic every time, promises it won’t happen again until you eventually stop trying to ask questions. Hope that your presence is enough to steady him through whatever it is that is tormenting him.
He asks you once, if you’d believe in his word, no matter what the evidence of something told you otherwise. You tell him you would, always, but that answer doesn’t seem to make a difference.
Winter break comes and goes, without an invitation to visit this time. If anything, Jason comes back more irritable and closed lipped. Mutters something about a fight over Christmas dinner, his brother and Bruce clashing over something. You’re worried about him all the time now. He’s more reckless with himself, won’t look before crossing the road, reacts aggressively to every perceived challenge, throws things when he gets frustrated. He’s changing into someone you don’t recognize in front of your eyes.
April comes and there’s a new light in his eyes. It’s manic and hopeful and the first emotion you’ve seen in him other than fear in months. He won’t tell you what it is, just that there’s something new he’s found out, something about his mother. This time you hope, fingers crossed and a wish on every star that whatever has brought him this hope won’t hurt him.
On Monday, Jason doesn’t come to school. He doesn’t answer your messages or pick up any of your calls. Even when he’s been out sick he at least lets you know. On Tuesday you get called into the office in the middle of first period. You haven’t been back to the secretary’s office since the day you enrolled. The seats are still as overstuffed as you remember. The secretary is the same, a few more grey streaks in her perfectly set hair. Her eyes are red, and she’s got one of those old fashioned handkerchiefs in her hands.
“I’ve got some bad news honey, and I— I think it would be best if you sit down for it.”
“Oh— will this take long? Only I got pulled out of class and we’re reviewing for the exam next week.”
“Oh honey.” She has to pause to dab at her eyes before continuing. “You’re going to be excused from all exams next week, okay? I need you to know that the school will do whatever we can to support you through this.”
Now, now you are scared. “Support me through what? It’s not my mom is it?”
“Honey it’s Jason, Jason Todd. I’m so sorry but he passed away yesterday. I’ve contacted your parents and your mother is on the way to come pick you up.”
Her words don’t make any sense.
“But he can’t be. I saw him on Saturday. There’s been a mistake. He’s not dead.” Your legs don’t work anymore and you hit the couch, hard, sliding off the overstuffed pillows to kneel on the floor. You don’t feel any of it. There’s copper in your mouth, you must have bitten your tongue on the way down but you can’t feel it. There’s movement in your peripheries, and your mother crouches down into your field of vision.
“Mom, mom they made a mistake. She’s— she’s saying that Jason’s dead, but he can’t be. Mom he’s not dead.”
“Sweet pea, I’m so, so sorry. It’s been on the news all morning.”
It rips through you then, grief. Sobs shake your whole body, your mother doing her best to hold you together. There’s a roaring in your ears like you’re caught in a vacuum. You can’t see through the tears. Your body is trembling violently and you can’t care enough to try and stop it. Nothing matters anymore. Jason’s dead.
To get to the car, your mother has to half carry you. There’s no point in moving. You’re not sure how you end up in your bed at home but you do. You don’t sleep but you aren’t really awake either. The tears don’t stop coming. You’re nothing but an open wound, not even really a whole person. The world’s burned down to ash and you’re just floating through it. You know your parents come in to talk to you, can hear the murmur of their voices but you don’t care. There’s food put in front of you but it holds no interest to you. You might have had sips of water, maybe some broth but you don’t remember and you don’t care. The only thing you really register is Haley, nestling up to you and making biscuits with his paws in your blankets.
Jason’s funeral is on Friday and you can’t get out of bed to go. Jason’s not in that coffin, not really. He won’t be there and so you won’t be. Jason’s never coming home. Jason’s dead, Jason’s dead, Jason’s dead plays on a loop. You never got to tell him. He died without knowing you loved him. His death has ripped you open like nothing ever has before, regret a constant salt in the wound. He never told you that he was thinking of leaving, of going anywhere. It feels wrong at this point, to interrupt his family in their grief, another stranger claiming to have known their son. After all, how well did you really know him if you didn’t even know he was going to leave?
Grief swallows you whole, but over time you learn to live with it. Days blur together. The tears dry up but the not caring doesn’t. Inside of your head is a wall, separating you from the reality of a world without Jason. You’re wrapped in wool and safe behind glass, unable to care about anything. It’s easier that way.
The school passes you for the year, citing personal tragedy, and you don’t care. Summer comes and the only difference is that your mother comes in and throws your windows open every morning. It’s Jason’s birthday soon, too soon. He’ll never be sixteen but you will be. He’ll never have his Words come in. He’ll never get the chance to do all the things he talked about, make Gotham a better place, travel the world. But you can.
It makes no sense to live for a dead boy but it’s all you’ve got. So you do what you have to do. It gets you to leave your bed for the first time in months. To start eating again, even if there’s no taste to the food in your mouth. To shower and take care of yourself for the first time in ages. Your room is clean for the first time in months and the first thing you do is take down your photograph from the 8th grade formal and put it away in a desk drawer.
By September, you have gathered yourself enough to return to school despite the worried looks of your family. It is hard, the hardest thing you have ever done but you do it for the boy that will never graduate high school. You sit by yourself at your desk, you eat lunch by yourself, you go straight home after class without any detours. The school play this year is Romeo and Juliet. You take home the sign up flyer and consider it, hard. In the end you decide to leave it. Jason may have always wanted to try out for the play but you won’t survive torturing yourself with this. On opening night you tell your parents you’re going to see it and get drunk on the gymnasium roof.
You make it through your last two years of high school a ghost. Administration tries to pressure you into meeting with a therapist but you refuse. You don’t want to experience your grief at all. Numbness is the only way you are going to survive this, your new reality. You do take them up on their suggestion of volunteering. Working with the Martha Wayne Foundation for Underprivileged Children gives you a sense of purpose. Of helping other Crime Alley kids without the benefit of nepotism to get them into places like Gotham Academy. It stokes the first emotion in you other than numbness, and that’s rage for all the ways in which these kids have been failed.
You accept a full scholarship to Gotham University. Your parents couldn’t be more proud of your achievement but you can barely muster the energy to smile. Keep up the volunteer work while rushing through your degree in two years instead of four. With nothing else to drive you, you’ve got nothing but time for school. The Martha Wayne Foundation offers you a position in fundraising, and you accept. It’s not what you envisioned for yourself, but it’s a path forward with purpose.
You move out, into your own apartment in an area that’s probably too dangerous for a girl of your age but you can’t stand to be at home anymore. The job consumes your life and you are grateful for it. It’s important work, even if some of the policy meetings on accepting donations from the Red Hood make you want to fall asleep. You make use of your Gotham Prep connections, rubbing elbows with the rich for just as long as it takes to pry open their wallets. It’s ridiculous but the higher ups trot you out to entertain at fundraising events, a pretty young face to pull in more donors. Occasionally you see Bruce, or Dick, or the newest ward Tim at functions, always across the room before you quickly excuse yourself. The numbness carries you through your life but there are limits to it and you’re not eager to test them.
Even five years later, you can’t go back to the park. You’ve never had another chili dog, though you’ll hire the vendor to cater community events. You’ve worked your way back into the public library, but still avoid the alcove on the second floor in the encyclopedia section. There’s a handful of arcade tokens in a plastic bag in your apartment still unused. Batburger is still your favourite, but you still can’t set foot in the location nearest to the Academy.
You keep yourself so busy that when your Words come in, “I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t know…”, you barely give it a thought, just pulling the cuff of your shirt lower to cover your wrist. Carry on with the rest of your morning routine and head into the office. From that point on, your sleeves are always long and your gala outfits gain elbow length opera gloves. You never bother trying to read the rest of it. It doesn’t matter anymore.
It’s a cold February morning. The bus broke down two stops from the office and now you have to walk the rest of the way in the snow. Standing at a crosswalk waiting for the light to change, you pass the time by scanning the headlines on the nearest newsstand. “Lost Wayne son found alive” screams out at you, tearing into your heart bloody. You lose grip of your work bag, but manage not to lose your mind in the street. Picking your bag up out of the slush, you run into the nearest bodega bathroom and lock the door with trembling hands. Shove a fist into your mouth and scream as the tears pour down your face. You’re shaking, worse than you were all those years ago. Snot blocks your nose and you have to stop screaming to breathe. So you do what needs to be done. Fumbling with your coat pocket, you pull out your phone and call the office, call out sick. It’s the only time you’ve done it in all the time your supervisor has known you but the tremor in your voice and frequent sniffles must alarm her enough.
In a fog, you somehow make it from the bodega bathroom to the front gate of Wayne manor. It doesn’t look like it’s changed at all since your last visit over five years ago, except for the heaving mass of press. You circle round the property and enter through the bushes, the way Jason showed you years ago on a tour of the property. You slip on the snow, fall to your knees but get back up. This is the only thing that matters now. The back door has an elaborate knocker that takes both of your hands to lift. It takes what feels like ages for someone to answer the door. It’s poor Mr. Pennyworth, looking more ruffled than you’ve ever seen him. You’re indescribably rude to the poor man, pushing right past him and into the building. Only one thing matters now and your vision has narrowed out anything outside of achieving your goal.
There’s voices coming from somewhere inside, up the stairs and in the direction of the library. A hand, probably Mr. Pennyworth’s, tries to grab at your wrist but you’re too quick for that. You’re running now, clutching at the bannister as though it will pull you up the stairs faster. A shout from behind and the tone of the voices change, a door slamming in the distance. Finally, finally you reach the library but a body tries to come between you, stopping you in your tracks. Years of grief, anger, and battered hope come roaring through you at the thought of being denied seeing Jason, alive after all this time.
Your voice when it leaves you is dangerously low. “Dick, I presume? You don’t know me, and I’ve heard very little about you from Jason and what I did hear I didn’t like. I’m going to make this simple.” The door behind him cracks open, but you soldier on anyway. “Jason Todd was my best friend and first love.” The body stiffens, but that doesn’t matter in this moment. “You are going to step aside and-” anything else doesn’t matter because a door is thrown open and there is Jason.
Eyes wild, a good deal older and more scarred than before, but he’s alive. And then nothing else matters but the feel of his arms warm around you, the imprint of his jacket on your face, the smell of him largely unchanged. He’s alive and he’s real and you can touch him. You draw back to look at him, drink in the sharpened angle of his jaw, the blue-green of his eyes, the white streak in his hair. He’s grown taller and broader than he had over that wretched summer so many years ago. What catches your eye is the writing at the hollow of his throat, a stark black spreading across his collarbones exposed by the v of his t-shirt. Jason Todd was my best friend and first love, it reads.
“I’m so sorry sweetheart, I didn’t know you felt the same.” He says and your wrist starts to burn.
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amor-ad-nauseam · 2 months
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Somethin’ Stupid (pt. 2)
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Pairing(s): Sam Winchester x reader
Summary :You two are pathetic for each other, so much so that Dean can’t help but take notice. Maybe, just maybe his “playing wingman” will work out alright…
Word count : 3.5k
Tags: Reader and Sam have a crush on each other, fluff, no use of y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns, carheartt!sam, heavy make out, kissing, fade to black, almost smut.
Notes; While this does read as a fade to black i may or may not have gotten a little carried away with myself and wrote part of the smut scene… it’s not included here but if y’all want that lmk!! I am so sorry about how late this is coming out! i’ve been very busy with back to school preparations. Notes and reposts are greatly appreciated
part 1 part 3
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“Rise n’ shine, Sammy!” Dean announced, clapping Sam on the shoulder.
Sam flinches awake and like a row of dominos, the guitar that was in his lap is sent tumbling to the floor - creating a harsh cacophony of strings and wood.
The sound causes you to jolt from your slumber. You shoot up in bed in a flurry of confusion. “I’m up! I’m up! Where’s the Rugaru!?” You shout, whipping your head around the room.
“Woah, Good Morning to you too,” Dean chuckles, punctuating the sentence with an obnoxious bite of beef jerky. Sam makes a face. “Want some?” He points the jerky at Sam.
“Hey, Dean.” Sam sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He runs his hands down his face. "I’m good, thanks.”
You visibly relax as the real world comes into focus. “Morning, Boys.” You say as the adrenaline wears off. Sam was still across from you, now flashing an apologetic smile and Dean was well- Dean, but in a cowboy hat. That wasn’t too unusual for him. Dean nodded a hello.
“Eh, more for me,” Dean shrugs with another bite. “Anywho,” He bends down and retrieves the guitar from the floor, now with a newly popped high E string. He hoped the motel wouldn’t charge him extra for that. “When’d you become Springsteen?” He smirks.
Sam was in no mood.
Then, his eyes lit up.
“Hey, Dean, what’s that, uh, mark on your neck?” Sam said, a grin only capable of being mustered by the most annoying of little brothers appearing on his lips.
“What mar- “Dean slid his hand down the length of his neck, stopping about halfway in sudden realization. “Oh- “He clears his throat. Mumbling something about getting banged up pretty badly, he dismisses himself to the med kit in Sam’s bag.
“Oh, and that explains why you’re just now getting back at, uh,” Sam glances to the alarm clock. “7am? from a simple salt-n-burn?”
“Uh, yeah.” Dean scoffs defensively. “Cause you see, Sammy, I was actually doing my job.”
The early morning sun filtered in through the blinds and for the first time you realized that the wood paneling on the divider and both doors were made to look like a saloon door. Damn. They went all out with this whole cowboy theme. On the bright side, the sun gave everything a warm almost fiery glow. Despite the rather cozy atmosphere of the room, Sam and Dean were still going.
Only two things in life are certain: taxes and the Winchester’s arguments.
“The job that requires you to receive hickeys from girls in bars?” Sam laughed. He was now stood by the foot of your bed, stretching the tension from his shoulders. Man, even through a t-shirt his back muscles were attractive- carved like a Greek statue.
“Okay, when you say it like that it makes me sound like a hooker.”
“Maybe you are, Mr. hard worker.”
“Don’t objectify me.” Dean rolls his eyes, feigning offense . Dean was leaned over the dresser, looking in the mirror as he tried to cover a small purple mark on his neck with a square gauze patch.
He definitely wasn’t winning this one.
As if suddenly remembering something, his head perked up and he set his sights on you.
“How’s the leg?” He asked, looking at you in the mirror. He did genuinely care about your wellbeing, but it didn’t hurt that you were also a good out.
“Hm?” You were a little distracted; you’d almost forgotten about your leg entirely.
“Oh right. It’s fine really,” you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.
When you look down you find the bandage that was once around your thigh, half undone, twisted about and just an overall mess.
“Right, fine.” Dean chuckles.
“Woah, you okay?” Sam questions.
Before you know it, Sam’s closing the distance between the two of you and the roll of gauze is sailing through the air from Dean’s palm to Sam’s.
“Damn, I thought you were better at the whole first-aid thing, Sammy.” Dean remarks, happy to flip the situation back on his brother.
“I am,” Sam takes a seat next to you. He’s warm. And close. Too close. “But someone.” Damn he smells good too. Like a brand-new book. “Wouldn’t let me.” He said with a teasing expression.
“Hey, I didn’t do too bad.” Your cheeks flush.
“Riiight.” He gently tugs at an end of the bandage, and it unravels like a loose thread in a pair of jeans. “Not too bad at all.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You reply, your face contorting to an attempt at annoyance.
“Hey, cheer up.” Sam smiled.
You couldn’t help but smile in return.
He gently slid his hand to the underside of your knee and placed your leg over his lap just as he did the night prior.
While you were busy tossing the wrinkled bandage into a small barrel-shaped trashcan near the sofa-chair, Sam took the opportunity to let his gaze linger. He drank in every detail of your appearance, hoping to seer it to memory.
For some reason, 3 things in particular stuck out to him: You never bothered to put your hair up last night, the way squinted as the sun reflected directly into your eyes, and the fact that you were still in his Carhartt. That last one especially made his heart beat a little harder.
Your lovely chaotic hair and the sun shining on your face inspired countless fantasies. Some as simple as kissing the tiredness from your expression, others, he felt bad for even thinking.
The minute you turn around his eyes are once again glued to your leg and you’re none the wiser.
“How’m I lookin, doc?”
Dean with his shirt tucked beneath his chin was rubbing ointment on what he wasn’t quite sure if it was another hickey on his abdomen or an actual bruise. Upon hearing your question he perks up, ready to make a dumb Looney Toons reference when Sam of all people beats him to the punch.
“Ah, just peachy, Bugs.” He replied in a nasally imitation of Daffy Duck.
“Huh.” Dean mumbles with some small shock. He watches the two of you from the mirror's reflection. He knew Sam had a thing for you, but this, this was something else.
The way the two of you giggled and just almost leaned into each other with every joke- pulling away in shy stupidity each time you got too close. The lingering eye contact, how Sam’s hand looked almost reluctant to leave you, the way one of you would stare when the other wasn’t looking. The whole thing left his stomach feeling like a pot of warm honey.
Damn. You’ve both got it bad.
An idea.
“Hey guys,” He chimed in.
“Hm?” You and Sam said in unison.
“Oh, sorry no you go- “you said.
“No, it’s okay you- “
“Well, you did fix me up it’s only fair- “just then you realized that your leg was still in his lap. You quickly pull away and smile apologetically. Sam does the same.
Dean just about face palms. You two are hopeless.
“Guys.” Dean clears his throat, capturing both of your attentions once more.
“I'm gonna go out and uh, do something.” Dean said with heavy emphasis on “do something.”
“Oh, okay..?” you said with confusion
“Oh, uh, need help with that?” Sam added, eaqually as confused.
“No! no, sorry…heh… I just mean that you both should stay here while I go make a move.”
“You… feelin’ alright, Dean?” You question.
“He’s still hungover I think.” Sam leans in and mutters.
“Y’know,” Dean turns his attention straight to Sam. “Making a move is always the right thing.”
“…So, you do want my help?”
“No, damnit,” Dean sighs in defeat. “M’goin’ on a coffee run.”
“Oh… okay…” Sam replied. “In that case, make two of ‘em decaf.”
“Aw you remembered?” You say with an expression reminiscent of a teen girl with a crush.
“Yeah, I know how it makes you jittery.” Sam replied, sounding embarrassed.
Dean watches as the two of you sit there smiling like idiots.
Yeah.
Extra hopeless.
- -
The latter half of the day is spent with Dean acting strangely and you and Sam struggling to figure out why.
A couple of theories arose.
“Maybe he is hungover.” You quietly conceded after Dean stretched his legs across the diner’s booth seat when Sam tried to sit down- forcing him next to you.
“Nah, he’s mean when hungover.” Sam replied.
- -
“Maybe we did something?” You suggested when Dean pulled the same diner stunt later at the library.
“Like what?” Sam replied as he studied Deans relaxed demeanor.
“Dunno. Maybe it’s 'cause we bailed last night?”
“C’mon we didn’t “bail”, you got stabbed and we all know if one of us didn’t stay with you, you’d come crawling back to finish the fight.”
“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “Well, I’m fresh out of ideas.”
“Me too. Just can’t figure out what would make him not tell us details on a case, it’s not like him.”
- -
You also happened to notice that Sam grew increasingly grumpy as the day dragged on.
Whether that was due to Dean, or his uncomfortable sleeping situation last night was lost on you.
- -
“Maybe he got roofied?” Sam mumbled when it seemed as though Dean couldn’t walk in a straight line- continually bumping into you - shoving you straight into Sam.
“Can’t be, after that whole witch thing he’s really careful with his drinks.”
“Hm…”
- -
“Mid life crisis?” Sam proposes in a hushed voice from the huddled corner of a motel lobby.
Dean had bought two rooms instead of the usual one accompanied by “we’re livin’ offa credit card scams and prayers. Besides, we’ve all pretty much seen eachother’s junk anyway.”
“He’s 30” you replied while watching Dean flirt with the woman behind the counter.
“With this job and his liver, it’s midlife.”
- -
Finally, the night had rolled around.
“Been dazed and confused for so long it can’t be true~”
The radio humming as the Impala raced down the road.
Normally, nights like this would be relaxing. Windows rolled down, the sounds of the cold and buzzing night mixed with the same five albums Dean rotated. Empty back roads and the three of you endearingly out of tune as you sang along.
But this night was simply and plainly, dead.
The air in the car had a tension not even Page and Plant could cut through. You all silently sat in your unassigned-assigned seats: Dean driving, Sam shot gun and you in the back watching the night woosh by.
It all came to a head earlier when Dean notified you and Sam that you two were on stake-out duty. You watched as Sam’s expression visibly changed into one of suppressed nausea. Sure, stakeouts usually sucked ass but did the thought of being alone with you really drive him to the point of sickness?
You breathed a sigh, sinking further into your seat at the memory.
Sam steals a glance at you in the rear view- you looked sad. Guess you weren’t too excited at the thought of a stakeout either.
The car stops about 50 yards in the underbrush in front of a dilapidated old building in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.
The light previously provided to you by the stars was dimmer now due to the thick miles of pine trees stretching high above- looking as though they could touch the sky themselves.
“Aaand we’re here,” Dean said, switching off the ignition
“Mind telling us where “here” is exactly?” Sam quipped.
“Like I said, it’s a nest.”
“Yeah. That’s the problem. That’s about the only thing you’ve said.”
“Okay, fine- look, We’ve had a lot of duds lately and I didn’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up if it wasn’t the real deal.” Dean shrugs.
Dean was an incredibly good liar. Or as he liked to call it, thinking on his feet.
“Wow you are s- “
“Such a great older brother, I know. I’m gonna go walk the perimeter, shouldn’t take too lo-“
“Great I’ll come with!”
You watch as Sam quickly follows after Dean- not even letting his brother get the words out before he’s on his feet and out of the car like he’ll catch the plague if he’s alone with you.
Yeah. Stakeouts really sucked.
From inside the car all you could hear were Sam and Deans muffled voices, but even still, you could tell they were arguing…
“I’m not an idiot, Dean. I know what you’re doing.”
“Well I’d hope so,” Dean chuckled, holding his newly sharpened machete upward to inspect it. “Dad’d kill us if we ever even thought about going in dull and halfcocked.”
“Y’know you’re not the most subtle guy in the world.”
Sufficiently satisfied, Dean re-sheathes the blade and hooks it onto his waistband. “Dunno wacha talkin’ ‘bout, Sammy.”
“You forced me to sit next to her.”
“Leg got bruised las night, had to keep ‘er elevated.”
“Got two rooms?” Sam quirked a brow.
“So? What if i wanted to bring someone back?”
“Dude, you practically threw her into me.”
“Again, the leg. Can’t walk straight.” He shrugs, grabbing a vial of dead-man’s blood and putting it into his pocket.
“Alright, cut the bullshit. I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. She’s not into me and i’m-“
“A dumbass.” Dean says sharply.
“E-excuse me?” Sam says, caught off guard.
“The girl is head-over-fuckin-heels for you. you must be a dumbass not to see it.” Dean points an accusing finger at him.
“I-“
“I see the way you look at her, hell, you busted out the guitar for her! ah- don’t give me that look, it was obvious. “
“Okay, fine, you got me Dean.” Sam throws his arms up in an exasperated manner. “I have feelings for her.” He pauses. This is the first time he’s said it aloud. His eyes go to his shoes. “Doesn’t mean she feels the same way.”
“Christ.” Dean slams the trunk, shoves his hands in his pockets and walks around the side of the car. Sam gives a puzzled expression. Dean jerks his head. “Watch this,” Dean says.
With the back of his hooked middle and index finger, Dean knocks on the back window of the Impala.
“Hm?” You lift your head from the book in your lap.
It’s a quick set of movements, but obvious, unthought action: your eyes first land on the source of the sound, Dean. He waves. You smile.
Then, all in the fraction of a second you look at Sam. Your smile falters. A short, flustered breath escapes your nose.
Your eyes go back to Dean, your lips curving into a poor attempt at a casual smile.
“See?” Dean says once you turn your attention back to your book.
“See what?” Sam replies, his voice growing annoyed and incredulous- having not picked up on anything out of the ordinary.
“You really make me wanna punch you sometimes.”
“Wha-, you know what, Dean, is this case even real? Cause if it’s not let’s just go back to the motel and-“
“Okay, Okay.” Dean pushes his arms in a ‘calm down’ motion. “It’s real, Columbo. Here,” He reaches behind his back, past the sides of his coat and pulls the local newspaper from the waistband of his jeans. “Happy now?”
Sam’s eyes skim the headline: Reports of “Cult like behavior” spotted near the old McCrowe house.
Below is a photograph of the dilapidated home they were parked in front of.
“Yes, but, h-“
“How do you know it’s real? Ya don’t. But i know you couldn’t take the risk; Even if you tried.”
Sam frowns, combing a hand through his hair. Dean smiles. “Go get ‘em, tiger” Dean says, patting his brother on the shoulder.
"You're an asshole."
Dean walks away with an extra bounce in his step. Sam frowns, again.
After taking a long moment, partially to regain his bearings, partially waiting till his brother disappeared around the bend, Sam pulls open the door.
“…Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
That wasn’t awkward at all.
Leaves crunch beneath your feet, and the book carried at your side rhythmically beats against your hip as you walk.
“So… figure out what’s up with Dean?”
“Oh, uhm,” He tosses the newspaper onto the dash as he slides into the front seat to cover his hesitation. “Nope. Not a clue.”
“Eh, I just hope he sorts himself out. If he keeps walking like that i think i’ll be bruised soon.” You chuckle at your own joke. “Guy’s got hips like Shakira, they do not lie.”
Crickets. Literal crickets fill the beat of silence after that joke.
You knew it was bad but damn.
“Ookay… tough crowd,” You mumble.
“Oh, uh, sorry,” Sam said as if he were snapping out of a trance. “yeah heh, Shakira.”
You simply resign yourself to the book in your lap, every once in a while, taking a glance at the house ahead.
Meanwhile, Sam’s gaze never leaves the house for a moment. He had an expression you couldn’t quite place and an almost glazed over look in his eyes.
“Hey, i’m gonna go catch up with Dean, you’ll be fine right?” He says suddenly.
“No,” You slam your book shut and turn straight to Sam. “Sit your ass back down. we need to talk.”
“I’m sorry?”
The words come barreling from your mouth like a falling knife, sharp and unpredictable. “You have been super weird all day- I swear it’s hereditary- Dean acting strange, that i can deal with, but you? i-i don’t know what to do with that.”
A sinking sort of realization sets in. “I- god i’m so sorry.”
“I mean, did i do something? ‘Cause if i did i’m terribly sorry-“
“No, no, you didn’t do anything i swear.”
“Then what is it? i thought things were good and then- Look, if there’s something wrong just say the word and i’m there.”
“i know that but-“
“I’ll listen if you need it, i’m your friend and i wanna help.”
“That’s the problem.”
A beat of silence.
“That you’re my friend, just, my friend. That’s what’s wrong."
You feel your mouth going dry.
The words come tumbling out of Sam’s mouth much faster than he can think. “I-I knew from the moment i met you that you were this super cool and sweet and pretty but also badass at the same time kinda person and then it sorta spiraled into a crush, -which was innocent enough- so i thought it’d go away but then it didn’t and then-“
Every word, every thought, every action, everything within Sam is cut short and fades off when your lips collide with his. Your hands cup the sides of his face. His eyes widen before slowly dropping shut.
A moment later the kiss breaks and you’re sat there, staring dumbly into those gorgeous hazel eyes. From this new vantage point (the middle of the front seat) the gaps between the pines overhead is greater, allowing for starlight to filter in. The parts of his face not obscured by the shadows of his hair were illuminated in perfect detail. The soft edges of his face look almost sharp given the looming shadows, that detail though, is contrasted by the rosy blush spreading on his cheeks.
“…I wanted to shut you up,” You blink. “But I should’ve asked, i’m sor-“
The last of your attempt to apologize is muffled as Sam’s lips crash into yours.
His hand rests on the far side of your neck, his thumb moving across your cheek. The kiss grows in intensity, his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, your breath short and hot on his face. You drop your hands from his jaw and begin to slide them down his torso, eliciting a low growl-like sound from him. You both grow in fervor, the kiss bordering the fine line between sweet and desperate.
His tongue pushes past your lips and begins exploring you with warm desire. A soft sound escapes your throat at the feeling, his body growing warm, breaths shaky, and his tongue needly licking at the inside of your mouth.
Sam pulls away but only for a moment. He takes a quick survey of your face: lips red, breathing coming out in short pants, hair messy and all of you elucidated by the stars outside. You were no longer a reverie- some fantasy far out of reach. You were right there, lovely and more attention capturing than any star. So he says the thought that’s been on repeat in his mind since the moment he met you. What he’s thought on a thousand breathless afternoons when the sun shines just right on your face: “I love you”
“I love you too.” You reply without missing a single beat. you don’t have to think about it, not even for a second. You love him.
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Taglist: @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillies444lola @wowzabowza69 comment to be added/ removed
205 notes · View notes
readychilledwine · 1 year
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Slow Hands
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Azriel x Vanserra Oc
Azriel returns from a rough mission very sore. The typical ointments Madja uses aren't helping to relieve the tension, so the healer suggests Azriel goes to see Lyria, a pretty little healer who specializes in massage therapy.
Warnings - NSFW, but nothing is graphic. Accidental orgasm from a service. Some swearing. Unedited. Dearest minors, DNI.
Word count- 2,639
Random author's note - I just believe it should be cannon that the Vanserras give the best massages. They're literally fae heating pads/hot water bottles.
Part Two
Azriel walked beside Rhysand in silence as they made their way to the building Madja had asked Azriel to visit.
The two had not spoken since the incident with Elain, but he could tell Rhys, who had paused hand halfway up to knock on the door, wanted to tell him something.
Rhys cleared his throat. "Do you remember me coming home from the mountain and saying I decided to bring a new friend to Velaris?"
Azriel nodded, refusing to verbally break his silence to his brother, to which Rhys rolled his eyes. "This is her. She is Lucien's sister. Be. Kind. She is doing this for you as a favor to me."
Rhys knocked on the door before winnowing away, leaving Azriel standing there awkwardly. Shock set in as golden light flooded the streets. There, in the doorway, smiling gently was the mirror image of the Lady of Autumn, only shorter.
"You must be Azriel," he stared down at the pretty female, mouth going dry as he tried to figure out how to form words. "Come in. I'm Lyria, by the way." She smiled softly at him and continued walking.
Her home was warm, inviting, and comfortable. It smelled like lavender and something slightly medicinal Azriel could not place. "Rhys doesn't normally have his wings out when we do this." Azriel followed her, admiring her legs and ass in her tight leggings, as she directed him through her home. "Are you able to lay on your back?"
"I am." Azriel was studying her fully as they entered a room with a table centered in it and glass bottles lining a cabinet. Her red hair was pulled into braids and pins with a few pieces falling into loose curls. Her high cheekbones reminded Azriel very much of her mother, and her constellation of freckles lining her nose and cheeks were the only clear sign of her relation to Eris. Her golden sun kissed skin, though, that was Azriel's clear indication of who her father truly was.
All in all, he knew she was beautiful. Truly beautiful, and Azriel felt himself thinking of 100 other things he could do with her besides what Rhysand and Madja describe as a "back rub, but better."
He watched Lyria shift, clearly noting the way he was looking at her. "If you're comfortable, I just need you to take all of your clothing off and lay on that table. We will start with you on your back. Just put the towel where you want it for privacy. I can step out. Let me know when you're ready."
Azriel watched her walk out, eyes glued on her body. Rhys, the tone in his mind was slighly annoyed as he felt familiar claws enter his shields.
Azriel, A laughing purr answered back, Is she to your liking?
You're an asshole. A better warning would have been nice. Azriel slammed him out as he finished removing the leathers and siphons from his body before getting on the heated table. He sighed, shadows slowing down and stilling before opening the door and gently grabbing Lyria.
She moved silently through the room, fae lights dimming as she grabbed a few things. "Rhys said you'd prefer lotion over oil, is that accurate?" Azriel just nodded, a feeling of vulnerability sitting in.
He was naked in the presence of a female related to two males who absolutely hated him. A female who could wield fire as easily as breathing. His only comforts were the sign that she clearly thought nothing of his nakedness, and that his shadows had already told him she had no weapons in her home.
"I'm assuming they explained this to you? And let you know I'd be touching you a lot during this?" Azriel confirmed to her quietly they had. "If anything hurts, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, or you just do not like the way it feels, let me know right away. Is it okay if I start?" Consent. She wanted his consent to touch him. He nodded slowly and felt his shoulders instantly tense as she touched him.
Her hands were warm and so soft. Gently moving along the planes of his tight muscles in slow, long strokes. She was using enough pressure to map out areas of his body that were tighter than others but not being rough enough to hurt him. Azriel groaned as she found a knot near this collarbone. Her hands instantly began working in that area. "Does that feel okay?"
"It feels great." The room was filled with the sounds of water running softly, of animals in a forest. It even smelled like the Illyrian Mountains. The soft scent of magic, her magic, floated in the air as Lyria created an environment the High Lord had told her his spymaster would relax easiest in.
Azriel felt himself giving completely into her hands, melting in her touch, eyes closing. He groaned and moaned occasionally in appreciation and pleasure.
"There we go," she whispered softly. "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He felt his mind drifting as she worked down his arms, his torso, the fronts of his thighs.
Lyria was watching the Shadowsinger's little reactions to figure out where to focus, what areas she needed to work longer, and where the male held the most tension. She was also trying to ignore a growing aspect that had begun to pop up.
She worked her way back up to his shoulders, running her hands below his back, between his wings, causing another moan to leave his throat. This one, though, had her pausing. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she gently ran her hands from the spot they were in and up his neck. "I am so sorry."
Azriel chuckled slightly, eyes opening to look up at her. Her bottom lip had tucked between her teeth. She's nervous, his shadows began whispering to him. She was worried she had hurt him or he was feeling violated. "It's okay. They're sensitive, but that feels amazing."
"I can sto-"
"Please, do not stop."
Lyria nodded, her lip still tucked into her teeth. "You can roll onto your back if you'd like, and are um, able to." It was then that Azriel realized what she meant.
"Please tell me this happens all of the time?" His face was flushed as he threw an arm over it. "You have male clients, this happens all of the time right?"
Lyria was instantly giggling. The noise like soft bells in his ears making him smile and relax. "Of course. Rhys especially. Roll over. I want to use a different lotion on your back." Lyria turned away, grabbing a different glass bottle.
Azriel rolled over taking the time to admire her body again. Thinking of how pretty she'd look tied up in his shadows. She'd look pretty in any position, naked or dressed. He put his head down, trying to focus on relaxing and not his growing need to bend her over the nearest surface.
Lyria moved back to him, warming the lotion she had on her hands, "Are you okay with lotion getting in your hair? You carry a lot of tension here," Azriel shivered as she was near the lowest base of his wings. She was being careful not to touch them, but just the ghosting of her fingers near them was causing his touch starved body to react. It also didn't help that her voice was a siren spell, "through the upper part of your spine and into your scalp. I feel like I can work it all out, but I need to get the tension in your scalp out too, or you'll have headaches all the time."
"You can do whatever you want to me," Azriel felt himself tense back up at the response. He knew he meant it. He knew he'd allow his female to take what she wanted from him without hesitation.
"What a generous offer. You'll have to buy me dinner first." Lyria moved. Starting his massage again at his feet.
"Fuck," Azriel groaned. He heard her chuckle as she worked and he relaxed into her touch once more.
Discomfort hit him again as she began to work up his legs, easing the tension in his thighs. "Is this okay? You are really tight on your legs and hips." Azriel nodded at her question, groaning as she began working out knots in areas he would have never suspected. "Am I hurting you?" Gods no, he thought to himself. "Do you want me to talk to you to distract you?"
"Hearing your voice is making it worse." Azriel bit his lip to hold in a moan as she began to work the other side. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Not hurting you then. You are fine, Azriel. Just relax. It's just your body reacting. It's normal."
His name rolling off her tongue made Azriel feel like his soul was lit on fire and an ache started in his chest. He began to imagine what she'd sound like with his head between her thighs, his hands squeezing her breasts, her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself so deep into her they became one.
Lyria continued her work, ignoring the growing scent of his arousal as the tension in his lower back released. She then made a rookie mistake, leaning across his back to grab her lotion bottle allowing her breasts to run along his body. She said nothing as his wings fluttered and he slightly shivered. She just continued her work.
Azriel was a piece of art, she had decided. His body reminded her of expertly carved marble. Hard muscled cuts from years of training, but they yielded so easily to her touch. Small twitches began to happen as she hit his mid back just below his wings.
Her eyes flicked to where he gripped the soft sheets of the bed as she pulled a heated blanket over his lower half. "Is it too warm?" She knew the scars on his hands all too well, she was hiding her own that danced along her back.
"No, just everything feels really good." His reply was soft, but raspy and deep. She smiled softly as she continued her work, gently going around the lower base of his wings without realizing the stimulation she was causing him.
Azriel was biting his fist under the table as pleasure shot straight to his cock. His body was so relaxed and everything felt intensified. He had been craving touch like this for years now. Soft, gentle, slow. She was taking her time on his back, working out every ounce of tension, every knotted muscle, every single drop of pain he had. His body hadn't felt this good in years, and he hadn't felt relief like this since his last trip to the brothel.
Her hands were heaven on his skin. They were warm and smooth, grazing him with her nails occasionally. She smelled like heaven, too. The soft scent of apples and salted caramel. He could drown in her scent alone if she allowed him to.
He felt the groan slip his throat as she moved to be in front of him and began to work between his wings. "Tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to hurt you."
Azriel realized slowly he was drowning. This female was about to reduce him to a puddle with the touch of her hands and that alone. He pushed the feeling down. Doing her job, a shadow reminded him.
She worked in silence, noting his soft gasps, whimpers, and moans as she worked the center of his back and sides of both wings. She was finally at the base of his shoulder blades when Azriel's resolve dropped. His hands came to rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing the plush skin there every so often as she worked the tops of where his wings connected in.
A rough grasp on her thighs as she accidently brushed the ridge of his wing had her gasping slightly, nails digging into his back, making him growl in pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and tried to back away, only to find herself locked by his large hands.
"That was my fault," he was smirking and pulled her closer. "Please keep going. I'll behave." Lyria bit her lip, her nervous tick he noted, nodding as she went back to work.
She was focusing on working the muscle tension near his wings. She was hoping he'd be able to ignore his pleasure, but as his breathing picked up, his wings twitched, and he moaned for her more, she knew. Lyria knew what was about to happen, but anytime her hands slowed, he gripped her thighs tighter as if begging her to continue.
He was on the edge at this point. He could feel a peak of pleasure within reach as she began working his shoulders and neck. Azriel was trying to hold it in as the pleasure built, but Lyria sealed his fate.
She did a single long stroke, starting between his wings, up his neck, and gently tugged his hair.
It was his undoing as he moaned out loudly, his grip on her thighs moving so he was cupping her ass and digging his fingers into her. His body was slightly shaking, as she scratched his head and played with his hair through his high.
Lyria had her lip between her teeth again. Trying to hide the feminine smile at her ability to bring one of the deadliest males in History to completion with no more than the touch of her hand.
She moved to sit next to Azriel, dropping his right arm over her thighs as she sat next to him, continuing to massage his scalp as he finished coming down, breathing coming back to normal. Once he turned his head to her, she just smiled.
"I know a few places in Autumn you could get help with that problem," she offered gently. "Eris runs a very clean, respectable one. They have males and females. All there by choice because they like to fuck."
Azriel chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" He looked at her. Enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks as her amber eyes met his hazel ones.
"I don't normally have people finish on my table, so we're going to chalk it up to you had a lot of tension to release." She paused, hand still playing with his hair before handing him a towel. "I noticed it building as I was working in your wing bases, but you didn't ask me to stop, and if I tried to, you squeezed my thighs to prevent me from moving. Rhys just said the wings themselves were sensitive. I didn't realize it was that whole area. I am sorry if I've made you feel violated."
He took the towel, cleaning himself and the table as she looked away. He tossed it into her nearby hamper and laid back down. A shadow grabbed her hair and placed it back into his hair.
"He probably did that on purpose. Fucking asshole. I owe you dinner," he finally said. "I'd like to do this again. Hopefully without that happening. I'm hoping that was a one time thing."
Lyria nodded. "We can do the same time next week with dinner beforehand?" He nodded at her, sitting up and studying her face again. "Also, I don't mind if that happens again." She was blushing and tucked her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. "Maybe in different circumstances though."
Azriel smirked, hand reaching to gently pull at her hair, "That could be rearranged."
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