#scholar dollar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

minkieater · 4 months ago

Text

three fates ⟶ khj ⋆ ★

p. kim hongjoong x f!reader w. lots of drug use, and i mean a lot, so please if u don't like drugs don't read this !! 18+ there's smut too, minors dni PLS addiction, consumption, sex while intoxicated, age gap (18 and 22/21 and 24) lemme know if i missed anything!! wc. 13.6k <3

she's finally here <3 my baby!! i am in love with this, this is my favorite thing i've written, city boy joongie is my heart and soul. takes place in the same world as luck & carousel, but none of the characters we've met so far are here !!

♫ — one of these nights, the eagles “i’ve been searching for the daughter of the devil himself i’ve been looking for an angel in white i’ve been waiting for a woman who’s a little of both i can feel her but she's nowhere in sight”

hongjoong is an artist, a creator. everything he’s ever seen, touched, smelled or heard, every little thing he’s ever come in contact with could and has been used in his art in one way or another. he couldn’t help himself, he saw the beauty in everything, from the gloaming atop the horizon of the hudson river on the third day of his bender to the massive rats playing tag in the subway station in downtown brooklyn.

his clothes, his jewelry, his music, his apartment, his friends… everything and everyone is gorgeous, it has to be that way. the well of his creativity never runs dry, not living in this city, not with the life he’s created for himself.

coming from a small brownstone in brooklyn, he lived with his parents and younger sister, a quiet girl that was nothing like him. he was always the rambunctious older brother, could never keep his grades up, couldn’t go a week in school without getting in trouble. she, the scholar, was his parents’ shining star, as well as his own. he hoped she wouldn’t be anything like him, anything like their father.

he’d never compared himself to her, he knew he was just wired differently, a chemical concoction in his head that made him who he was and he loved it. he couldn’t picture his life, himself, any differently. he could never stay focused on one thing, always moving to the next project, always bouncing from opportunity to opportunity.

when he got into high school reality set in of where he lived, who he surrounded himself with, what exactly was accessible to him at all times. from alcohol to drugs to shows to backstages to underground raves, hongjoong learned very quickly the different paths he could take, the routes his life could go in.

he was a junkie, a junkie for adrenaline, for excitement, for anything this godforsaken city had to offer him. so he experimented.

his friends were just like him — loud, outspoken, covered in piercings and tattoos, much too young to have gotten them done professionally. they looked for nothing but a good time, they didn’t care about school, didn’t care about their futures, they cared about a sick guitar riff and how much their dealers were charging for an ounce of weed.

like his father, they introduced hongjoong to good music. growing up he listened to all his father’s favorite bands, from alice in chains to black sabbath to pearl jam, it set a tone for his future, laid the grounds for what the following decade of his life would look like. he spent weeknights, weekends, every night he wasn’t watching his younger sister he’d be at a different show in the city. no name bands, ones that were trying to get a foot in the door to the music industry to DJ sets at underground raves, blinding shows with flashing lights and a thumping bass he’d end up rolling at every damn time.

hongjoong’s friends introduced him to many, many things, but his favorite would have to be cocaine. feeling on top of the world, like he can accomplish anything and everything, hongjoong adored the white powder he often sniffed with a crisp dollar bill. his personality alone was akin to it, he bounced off the walls all by himself, but during a night of drinking the main thing that kept him going, pushing through until sunrise was the bag full of blow in his back pocket.

it got him through high school, it made him pay attention, it made him ask too many questions in class. it gave him confidence, he felt like the most attractive person in the world, like he was at the top of the food chain. it made him optimistic toward his future, he knew he’d become successful no matter what he did whenever he was at the peak of his high.

what he despised about blow was the come down. from feeling untouchable to drained of everything he was worth in about all of forty five minutes, that he couldn’t stand. the one solution, the only solution that every single one of his friends had given him: “joong, you just need to do another line.”

so he did, he always did more, but one thing about cocaine is that you never feel as good as that first line, the one that makes you untouchable, unstoppable, unkillable. he never thought he’d feel that again, that beautiful, unique euphoria, until he was a freshman in college, at a grimey city nightclub’s show of your band’s debut.

he watched you in awe, blown pupils taking in every last detail of you strumming your guitar. how your fingers moved from string to string, black painted fingertips going white from the pressure. how your hair flowed in the air as your head banged to the drums, how your red lips stained the microphone when you sang into it. he grew up listening to music, he spent years listening to great bands and really terrible ones, by now he knew the difference.

he knew then and there what field his career would lay in. dirt caked the floor he stood on, posters and receipts and papers of the sort covered the walls, the disgusting nightclub he now owed everything to offered him two things, you and the chance to make something of himself.

he knew your band was special, knew you had the raw talent to make it big. he wanted to see it, he could picture it now, your faces stretched across a billboard in times square. it was exciting, this feeling that flushed through him, knowing he was watching celebrities perform before they had their break, their break that would come soon if they just had someone to sign them.

he did everything in his power to wait diligently for your set to be over, already knowing that he and his friends would make it backstage, a routine for them every time they came to these shows. his head nodded along to the music, a can of beer in his hand, his hair tickling the back of his neck every time the main singer hit a note he himself couldn’t.

when your band finally made their last bow, thanking the crowd for their attendance and cheers, hongjoong felt the adrenaline in his fingertips. he was so, so close to meeting you, telling your band what he thought, buying you a drink. so close to taking you back to his dorm, untying your skimpy black bikini top, learning your tattoos to memory.

he usually went for the drummer — that he knew by now. after a few lines and a six pack he would ache to be bent over, or be the one bending someone over, that didn’t matter to him. what did matter was that he wanted a good fuck, he planned on it, he craved it, from trial and error his eyes always landed back on the drummer. it hasn’t failed him yet.

he wasn’t sure what made you different, why you caught his eye on the small stage, what stopped him from eyeing up the green haired drummer he couldn’t place. you were magnetic, with your bulky boots, revealing clothes, intriguing tattoos and piercings all up your ears. he wanted to smear the lipstick you wore down your chin, wanted to see it all over himself, prints of crimson running down his torso. he shivered, desire crawling up his spine when he pictured it, it was too easy, your stage presence was like no other.

when he got backstage and first saw you sitting on the torn up couch, handheld mirror in your grasp with three perfectly parallel lines laid across the glass, the confirmation was instant. you had a debit card on your lap, a rolled up dollar bill, sunglasses and that very lipstick he was fantasizing about laid across your thigh. a smile broke out across his face, one wicked and knowing, one that told everyone in the room hongjoong had found his game for the night.

you looked up to him from the amber colored couch, patches of questionable browns and grays mimicking a pattern across the rough material. your pupils were blown, huge and empty, matching the ones that stared back into them. the room backstage was small, a space he deemed claustrophobic, much too boxy for the amount of people occupying it. a mirror, a clothing rack and a couch, not much for a band to prepare for a show. he was impressed to say the least that a band of your aptitude had put on such a good performance in these conditions.

his friends went around the room in commendation, giving each member their own praise, complimenting the band as a whole. hongjoong was excited to do the same when he was in the crowd, but being back here with the adrenaline from the show being thick in the room, a voice told him to stay quiet, something that was close to impossible for him.

“you,” you began, and hongjoong’s neck snapped to you, greeted with a finger pointed directly at himself, “where did you get your jeans?”

“diesel,” he looked down to the ripped denim hugging his skinny legs, “vintage, i thrifted them from the shop on sackett.”

he watched as the eyes he couldn’t see the color of glanced up and down his figure, taking in every detail of his outfit, his body. you glanced back down to the mirror in your palm then back up to him, “you want a line?”

hongjoong’s feet were moving before he nodded yes. he sat down next to you on the decrepit couch, seated on the cushion in the middle. your hand moved under his chin and he could see his reflection in the glass below the lines, rich chocolate blending in with pupils, too wide to be able to tell where they started or ended.

he took the dollar from your raw, discolored fingers and sniffed, taking the line closest to you on the end. he was wide awake then, energy flooding his veins like he’d just slept for fourteen hours and drank three cups of coffee. his smile returned as he glanced at you, watched you do the same, took in every detail.

your hair, tucked behind your ears, laid in front of your shoulders far past the string of your bikini top. your lips were in a tight line, a streak of blood red below your nose, which had the rolled up bill just beneath the surface of your right nostril. he watched you sniff once, twice, both lines disappearing from the glass in your palm, your head tilting back with an additional sniff and a knuckle to your cupid's bow.

he watched in awe, a sparkle in his empty pupils, a flare in the sea of vast darkness. his dick twitched in his pants as he lost himself in the moment, his fogged up yet crystal clear head morphed you into some kind of seductress, a succubus, he had no chance of getting out of whatever spell you put him under, not that he needed one. all he could do, all he wanted to do is succumb.

succumb he did when you pressed him against the front door of your apartment, grabbed him by the throat and took him for everything he was worth. you were nonstop from that moment on the couch all the way to your apartment in queens, hands exploring and lips touching, tasting, giving, taking, there was no moment of question. no time to waste, not a fact to be shared, just a carnal desire that poured out of himself and into you, into your veins, into the blood that shared a color with your lipstick smeared onto hongjoong’s jaw.

he smirked knowing he got what he wanted, knowing he always gets what he wants, he was just that kind of person. shrouded in luck, like he had a guardian angel who refused to leave his side. from where he’s been to what he’s done, there was no way he should be alive, the chances of survival for a guy like him are slim to none.

the first time was in the bathroom of that club, where he pushed you into a stall and bent you over the toilet, your hands gripping onto a wall that you were sure had never been cleaned. markings of sharpie covered every inch, lewd and crude sayings, initials in hearts, phone numbers of random people who wronged the person that wrote it. you took every inch of him proudly, lifted your leg onto the toilet seat, ushering him to hit deeper, to empty himself inside you.

you left that bathroom in heavy breaths and lust darkened eyes, only for the two of you to last one more drink and another key bump before you were below the ground, on the subway to your apartment.

you didn’t get any farther than the entryway where you grabbed him by the throat, ushering for him to give into you, a power he didn’t just give away to anyone. he chuckled darkly and switched your bodies quickly, pressing your face against the art covered wall instead of the front door, smacking your ass with a force that made you cry out. he knew what you were, he could see it when you were onstage, nothing but a pain slut that let him fuck you in one of the dirtiest bathrooms he’s ever seen.

a low laugh left his lungs when he felt your core, fingers slipping through your release and his own cum that you’d been saving for later. he was immediately on his knees, eating it out of you, tasting the two of you mixed into one. the second time was in that very entryway, where he took you against the wall once more, this time with a low dim light peeking through the windows and a clear scent of fresh laundry and vanilla floating through the space. much cleaner, much sweeter, the opposite of what the two of you had endured just an hour earlier.

he ended the night in your bed, where he took you for a third, fourth and fifth, neither of you sleeping a wink. with the sunrise coming in through your half open window, sounds of sirens and cars passed by, drifting through the translucent rose colored curtains making them ruffle and bend to the noise. you had a cigarette between your lips, a tray with four more parallel lines sitting at the foot of the bed. you were naked, your tattoos your only blanket, hongjoong the same beside you.

“can’t believe you’re a fucking freshman in college,” you laughed through the smoke leaving your lips, a saccharine sound mixed with the smell of tobacco and menthol, “please tell me you’ve at least turned nineteen.”

hongjoong nodded, letting his fingers continue to trail your thigh, tracing the outline of the dragon that was soaring through the skin of your hip, “i’ll be twenty in november.”

a lie, one he knew would be believed, one that allowed you to sigh out in relief. he’d slept with much older, your measly twenty two was nothing to him, just another thursday night after a show, another experience to add to his arsenal.

“you said you go to NYU right? what’s an NYU student doing in brooklyn?” hongjoong smiled at that, he loved when people knew absolutely nothing about it him, made assumptions based on one thing they’d heard. he could make up anything he wanted, he could be whoever he wanted to be, not that you’d ever find out the truth. you’d never hear from him again after he stepped foot onto the sidewalk outside, back to his dorm, back to his roommate who would be waiting to ask him a million questions about his excursion.

tonight he was hongjoong, the nineteen year old that’d fucked you five different times in nine different ways, snorted countless lines of blow and hungout with a band he knew would make it. he wasn’t eighteen year old student hongjoong who was going to NYU because his parents were pushing him into accomplishing something, anything, trying relentlessly to get him out of the city’s gutter.

“to be fair, we’re in queens,” he cracked a smile, the corner of his lips lifting, “i grew up in bushwick, i come whenever i can. got lots of friends that still live around here.”

he didn’t know why he was being honest, this was his favorite part. maybe a small part of him was tired of lying, even if he’d done it already, he was ready for truth, ready for it to be laid bare for him, ready for it to point him in yet another direction. he didn’t care which direction it would send him in from your dingy apartment in queens, he just hoped it was upward, to something better than what he came from.

“why aren’t you guys signed yet?” there it was, the question that’s been clawing at him all night, sat fresh on his mind even when he was buried inside of you. the one truth he wanted to know, not your name that he already couldn’t remember, your age that’d already become irrelevant, or your address that he’d never even learned.

you sighed again, running a hand through your hair, collapsing into the plush pillows beneath you, “a few agencies have tried, none have been worth it. contracts are too strict, we won’t get paid enough, the companies aren’t popular enough. yasu handles all of that, i’m just told what we do or what we don’t do.”

“so if the right label approached you, one with money and connections and a contract that was perfect, you’d sign with them?” hongjoong asked, letting his eyes flutter shut, not that he felt tired. he’d need at least twenty milligrams of valium for that and even then it probably wouldn’t lure him to sleep, just enough to take the edge off, to let his head lie still.

you laughed, a bitter chuckle, “like who? republic fucking records? we’re performing in run down clubs across the city, we have miles to go before an agency worth anything takes an interest in us.”

hongjoong smiled through his eyes that stayed closed, that same smile he wore last night, the one that was both wicked and knowing. he could see it in front of him, an idea, a dream, a career. if he didn’t feel like shit he’d call up his parents and thank them for sending him to NYU, thank them for the opportunity to do something right with his life. his roommate would get a kick out of this.

he sat up on the bed and leaned forward, pulling the silver platter on his lap. he picked up the dollar bill that was slowly losing its shape with every sniff and lifted it to his nose, railing two lines from the tray. he tilted his head back and shook it, giving one last sniff before he was off.

“i have class,” he said as he searched for his pants around your cluttered bedroom before remembering he’d undressed in the entryway. you sat up with wide eyes, blinking at his sudden departure after a night of wild sex and snorting all of your coke.

“wait,” you called after him as he nearly ran through the bedroom door, “i want to give you my number, call me if you ever want to come see our show again, or if you want to do this again.”

he smiled from the open door in which the frame towered over him, shooting you a finger that said wait before he went in search of his clothes, phone, and wallet. he returned and saved your number in his phone, leaving the contact name as tattoo girl. in the moment it’d seemed easiest to remember you by.

he never ended up calling you, never ended up seeing another show that you mentioned. he went back to his dorm, to his life, and changed his major with a speed he hadn’t experienced before, despite his whole life being quick. he ate quick, he thought quick, he grew up quick, he learned quick, he did everything at such a rate he’d never experienced whiplash. this was normal.

music technology classes were not easy, but he thought himself lucky for the brain he was born with, his ability to adapt. for once in his life hongjoong wasn’t just good at school, he was excelling.

the connections he formed, his ever growing ability to network himself, show off his extensive knowledge of music itself, its history, the music scene in the city. never in his life had he thought he was born for something, never thought he had a purpose, just thought of himself as an open minded creative person who loved a good time. as he got deeper into his major which he thankfully didn’t change again, he realized there was one thing that remained constant all throughout his life, one thing that stayed with him through every phase, got him through every hump in the road.

when he came home that morning with pupils swallowing his eye color whole and lungs that had no breath left in them, he told his roommate he was changing his major and mingi was relieved. he was relieved and grateful, smiling because the first friend he made at NYU was going to be beside him for more than just sleepless nights across the dorm, letting out a sigh he kept trapped in his lungs because now could keep a better eye on hongjoong. the night before he was worried out of his mind, even if he knew hongjoong was born and raised in the city, mingi was raised in south korea.

mingi was told since he first started mentioning new york city to his friends and family to be careful, he had all of the horror stories told to him in depth, used as a weapon to scare him out of coming to the states. he never thought twice about it until he got here, stood face to face with hongjoong, and learned every dirty secret he had to offer. then he believed the horror stories, he believed that the city’s wretched dark side could really kill someone dead, even hongjoong who had become a good friend to him.

that fear was short lived, it was cut short the moment hongjoong took him to his first show in brooklyn. hongjoong could see the excitement in his eyes, that same adrenaline rush hongjoong considered himself addicted to as he watched mingi snort his first line of blow. he felt prideful, like he’d taken mingi under his wing and rebirthed him into a weapon the city couldn’t touch, couldn’t harm. he offered mingi the city’s beauty, the bright lights of the buildings at night, the pleasure of a woman he’d just met mere minutes ago.

the two of them became a pair, and hongjoong had grown to love the friendship, love the closeness that came with it. he wasn’t used to sharing so much time with one other person, he kept to himself if he wasn’t with his group of friends, even when he still lived at home he didn’t see the need for having one person to put all of his trust into.

mingi taught him a lot of things, the first being how to keep his head on straight and screw it tight. he kept hongjoong grounded, kept him centered around his music, kept him looking forward and never backward. he kept hongjoong flowing, retelling stories of nights they’d gone out together when hongjoong was feeling himself hit a creative block. mingi pulled hongjoong out of his hole when he’d snorted one too many lines, he’d put him in the shower, force feed him valium like it was candy.

it wasn’t until hongjoong was sat on a wooden stool in the soundproof booth of his school’s recording studio two years later that he’d be reminded of you again. strumming along to into the void by black sabbath, a song he loved since he was young, getting frustrated when his fingers slipped up around the bridge, they always slipped up at the bridge — the chords were so close together, it was ironic that something which took speed would trip him up.

“joong!” mingi called from outside of the booth, turning the microphone on, ripping hongjoong from his frustrations. “i got accepted! you need to check your email now.”

hongjoong left the booth in a rush, swinging his guitar back into its stand haphazardly, pushing the microphone he was keeping close to his lap back into the open space of the recording booth. he grabbed his phone and opened the email, relief washing over him like the stream from his apartment’s moldy shower head when he read we have selected you to join republic records as a production intern for the spring term.

hongjoong looked to mingi with wide, disbelieving eyes, unable to form a single reason why one of the biggest record labels in the city would accept him, choose him. hongjoong had been more than proficient in his work, with his grades, with forming relationships with big names in the industry — but at the end of the day, when he looked at himself in the mirror, all he saw was the same sixteen year old boy from brooklyn who’s only future was spent on the sidewalks of manhattan, maybe a shelter if he was fortunate enough. not a cent to his name, barely any clothes on his back, spending his adult years asking faceless people for a couple dollars just to buy himself a burger.

it was his parents’ biggest fear, it kept his mother up all night in her queen sized bed, his father no doubt already passed out drunk beside her. she laid there with wide eyes listening to his snores, staring at her cracked ceiling praying for the day she gets to watch her son walk across that big stage, graduation cap flattening his shaggy haircut. she smiled at the thought, but the severity of the situation hit her much deeper, it wiped the smile right off her face. hongjoong was a wild card, she never knew what to do with him, how to keep him walking in a straight line, her last attempt was sending him to such a prestigious college. she begged him to see the value, see what she was sacrificing to send him there, see the desperation she slipped over her head like a uniform when hongjoong was at the ripe age of twelve.

“you’re in production?” mingi twisted his neck to look over hongjoong’s shoulder, the height difference making it easy for him, “i’m in artist relations.”

“what’s artist relations?” hongjoong asked while lifting a brow, looking up to the phone his lanky best friend held tight in his hand.

mingi moved the phone lower, closer to him, sharing the screen to read the email word for word, “interns work closely with signed artists to assist in their day-to-day needs, organizing promotional activities, tours, and managing communications between the artist and the label.”

hongjoong laughed at that, his head tipping back, his eyes fluttering shut in hysterics. mingi’s cheeks flushed, his mouth shut tight and lips lifting at the edges ever so slightly, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. it took hongjoong a moment to get it together before he said, “so you’re someone’s personal assistant?”

“no!” mingi’s voice was raised, he took a breath, “yes, maybe, i guess so, whatever! i’m still interning at republic and a hierarchy is something to climb no matter where you start.”

hongjoong laughed again, clutching his stomach that had a slight ache in the pit then looked down to his lit up screen, “i’m assisting with music recording, mixing, and mastering. may help in studios, learning about the technical side of producing records, blah blah blah. i got the good one.”

“shut up,” mingi grumbled, locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket, “asshole, they're both good, i was excited. don’t ruin it.”

“i’m just fucking with you, ming, you should be excited. being a personal assistant means you get the inside scoop,” hongjoong smirks, “plus we can tell each other about our jobs.” he lifts his index finger, already thinking of what comes next, “we’re gonna learn every inch of that place and every job before we even get hired, we’ll be behind the big desk in no time.”

mingi nods as if hongjoong’s strategy had planted itself directly into his head through shared brain waves, “you’re right, you’re so right, holy shit you’re so right.”

hongjoong’s eyes go wide again, the realization settling in, “we’re interns at republic records.”

it brought him back to that night, you with your husky voice and tattooed legs and piercings that shone in the path of moonlight through your bedroom window, the cigarette you held between two dainty fingers … you that brought him here, you that handed him this idea along with four white lines on a silver platter.

pieces started falling into place, everything started to click, he remembered just a month ago he saw an advertisement for your band, a black piece of paper stuck to a light pole, performing at the red lion in greenwich village. he didn’t spare it a second thought, didn’t even process that he knew you when he saw it, too engrossed in how he was rushing to a class he was late for and the music in his headphones and the redbull he was juggling between his phone and laptop and keys.

he didn’t think much of it again until he was two months deep in his internship, walking through the dim hallways of republic records with two cups of coffee in his hands, one for himself and one for the producer he was working next to that day. he walked by one of the practice rooms, door shut with a square window in the center, he caught nothing but a glimpse of your hair but it was enough to make him stop in his tracks, to feel the coffee in the confines of their cups threaten to overflow their lids.

he stopped there for a moment, peered through the glass box, let his brain backtrack to that fall of two years ago. god, what the hell was your name again?

he couldn’t hear a note yet he longed for the main singer’s mellifluous voice to kiss his pierced ears, he could see you working the crowd in his memories when you were performing for nothing but a blank brown wall, he let his eyes drift to the green haired drummer. what could have been.

he pulled himself from the trance you had pulled him under again, much similar to when he first met you. hair cut shorter, edgier, more ink filling spaces in your soft skin that were empty the last time he saw you, much more clothing on your body this time around. at this point you must be twenty four, hongjoong himself just twenty one, just legal to drink in public, not that his age had ever stopped him before. it didn’t stop him from doing anything he wanted.

he kept walking, beckoning his legs to push one foot in front of the other before he arrived back at the studio he was in for the day. he felt cloudy, like he needed a line, something to pull him out of his head, but he needed to reminisce. he remembered your conversation even in his coked out state, the way you laughed at him for suggesting such a perfect label to exist, the way republic records slipped off your tongue like it was nothing but a pipe dream you stored in the darkest corners of your head.

hongjoong believed in fate, he always told himself there was no other reason for his life to be the way it is. hongjoong had experienced plenty, he’d woken up on too many stoops in neighborhoods he started the night across from, had one too many syringes full of narcan shot in his arm when his cocaine was cut with fentanyl. he’d survived to tell the tale, not just survived but he kept living, what else did he have to thank?

sheer luck, a guardian angel, fate, whatever it was he was thankful it stayed with him for so long, perched on his shoulder when he’d do the same things that made the front page of the new york times. there were too many lines in his life that crossed, too many threads that webbed for there not to be some external force, something he didn’t have a hand in. when yours and his threads crossed, got tangled that one night in the pits of brooklyn, he couldn’t help but think that the two years he’d spent his life up to this moment was the untangling.

as mingi stood in their shared apartment later that night, telling him about his day, talking about the band he was assigned to, hongjoong couldn’t believe his ears when the word clotho left mingi’s lips. out of all the interns, all the employees in that massive building, all of the record labels in the city, you signed to the agency he worked for and mingi was assigned to assist you.

he let him speak, let him complain about listening to your harsh demands, your continual need to practice the same song until they got it right, the way you flirted with mingi and how mingi ate it up. he let mingi speak with open ears, normal sized pupils and a nasty drip sliding down the back of his throat before he had enough. pulling the bag of his coke from his pocket he grabbed his favorite tray he kept right on the coffee table, spread the snow and cut it with a card from his wallet and sniffed. no dollar bill, no straw he sliced in half, just a finger pressed to his pierced nostril leaving the other one raw and full of blow.

“christ, joong, it’s eight at night on a monday,” mingi shook his head at his friend, “do you really need to be railing lines right now?”

“i fucked her,” hongjoong admitted plainly, crossing his right leg back over his left knee.

“what? who?” mingi asked, his eyebrows reaching his hairline, leaning over in the recliner in their shared living room.

“the guitarist from clotho, the one who’s name apparently neither of us know,” hongjoong chuckled before shaking out his arms, shaking off the discomfort of a possession he had no right feeling, “i fucked her.”

mingi sat there, blinking, not a word leaving his lips for moments before his brain turned back on, “i won’t- i didn’t know- when did you even?”

hongjoong waved him off with ring clad fingers before standing, walking towards his bedroom, “do what you want with her, just figured i’d let you know.”

hongjoong never had a girlfriend, a boyfriend, a relationship that lasted longer than one drunken night. even when he was younger he’d never experienced the puppy love all of his peers got themselves into, the only desire he felt was the rush of getting away with something, he’s craved that since before he can remember. possession wasn’t an emotion he was used to, one he rarely experienced at all, he couldn’t pinpoint why that spark of control showed itself when talking to mingi of all people.

he left your apartment in a race that night, he couldn’t of cared less about you in the moment, he never thought about you again until two months ago, over two years after he slept with you in the first place. he thought you special maybe, a fucked up train of thought when he couldn’t even remember your name, special despite how utterly ordinary that night was. special because he had you to thank for the path he was on now, what he's accomplished since that night with you. maybe it was gratitude, adoration, maybe just someone to look up to if he considered your success comparable to his own, he didn’t know and it was driving him insane.

his night with you was nothing out of the ordinary, he did nothing with you that he hadn’t done with tens of other people, yet the pedestal still remains tall. he tried to think about it in his sleepless night yet he got absolutely nowhere, no resolution, no explanation for the whirlwind he’d put himself through over hours. he sat up in his bed and sighed, a cold sweat lingering on his tanned skin, then he grabbed the guitar from beside his bed.

he let the feeling consume him that night, let it pour out into every note his painted fingers strummed along the guitar. as the sun peeked through his bedroom window the next morning he decided that one night of thinking was all he could handle, he chose to let the feelings be what they are and put them on the old metal rack along with his guitar.

he didn’t see you through that window to the practice room again, and he’d purposely walked by plenty of times in the weeks to follow. coming into mid march, for some reason the company was busy. hongjoong was keeping up, of course he was, juggling the workload from the producer he worked with and then everything else that was added to his plate by numerous other producers of the company. hongjoong was famous in that building, he was a dream intern, every person of a higher rank in that building wanted him for something.

hongjoong loved it, he loved the attention, he loved being depended on, he loved being busy most of all. reaching deadlines, bouncing back and forth between different artists and their own genre of music, hongjoong was nothing but a sponge in the ocean that was republic records. he soaked everything in, he learned everything, he remembered everything, he loved that his extensive knowledge was only ranging farther.

when he woke up that morning to the sunrise and a clear head after playing acoustic versions of rock songs all fucking night, he did exactly what he told himself he was going to. even if he wanted to think about you again he didn’t have a moment to himself to be able to, his internship was taking up so much of his personal time most days his homework wasn’t even a priority. the internship told him when he started to let them know if the workload was too much, if it was affecting his studies, but in what world would he do that? after leaving his bubble of adolescence of being a regular college student and entering the adult world, his career, why would school come first? he was already doing it, already loved by so many people, it was only right that hongjoong would fixate on what was working.

“we’re recording today,” jag, the producer he worked with, didn’t even have the decency to greet hongjoong with a hello. so backed up, so overworked, jag looked like he hadn’t slept in three days.

“with who?” hongjoong paid no mind to his unpleasant greeting, setting a coffee down right in front of him. jag’s eyes widened, a sparkle shining through the deepest of browns, he immediately brought the cup up to his chapped lips. jag’s favorite, this hongjoong knew by now, he also knew how jag worked, how to put him in a better mood even on his worst days.

“clotho,” jag said after a refreshing sigh, pleased with the hot drink he was gifted, “they’re finishing up their album, they’ve been working with max for majority of the recording. max called out sick, so they’re with us.”

hongjoong’s eyebrows raised, his mouth opening ever so slightly. jag caught on to the surprise, much like how observant hongjoong was, jag also paid a lot of attention to the boy with the sand colored mullet. jag snickered, “you have the same look on your face as when you slept with anitta and we had her in the booth the next day.”

“you know me too well,” hongjoong sat down in the chair beside him and let out a noise of relief as he got comfortable, cracking his knuckles as he spoke, “i fucked the guitarist.”

jag laughed, a belly laugh from the pit of his stomach, “which one?”

“the lead guitarist, the one covered neck to toe in tattoos,” hongjoong brings his attention to the monitor, an entirely different project jag was working on spread across the screen.

jag rubbed his face with his hands, “do we need to get every artist an STD test? i’m starting to get scared you’ll cause an outbreak.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes before responding with a playful smile, “you know i’m clean.”

their small talk didn’t get much further before your band was barreling through the studio, yawns and huffs of air being thrown about the space. hongjoong kept it professional, he kept his focus on the mixing board, the monitor, pulling up the file to the tracks that they were working on that day.

you looked… tired. no makeup, guitar case strapped to your back, tattoos hiding under the cotton of your sweats. it was early, the company had them working not just at dawn but also on the weekend, two things that weren’t normal for scheduling or recording. you didn’t notice him yet, or you were ignoring him, hongjoong wasn’t sure but he also didn’t care. he needed to get you in that booth, get the recording done as fast as possible so he could meet his friends at baby’s all right later.

at the start of the first track on the album they’d record that day, hongjoong knew the moment you saw him, the second you recognized his pierced nose and shaggy hair that was much longer now than the last time you’d seen him. he could see it in the way your eyes widened and the pause you took before you took your pick from your lips, he watched the gears turn in your head, he watched every memory play out in your eyes from that night two years ago. jag seemed to notice too by the way his palm slapped hongjoong’s knee under the desk, a breath of amusement leaving his lips.

your movements were slowed, it took you entirely too long to shift the microphone so it stood correctly in front of you, but you shook yourself out of your thoughts as the rhythm guitarist played the first few clean, arpeggiated chords. this song… hongjoong recognized it immediately, the memories once again flooding back to him.

once you got through the haunting intro, through the slow burn build into heavier, distorted riffs, hongjoong thought that you might be a siren, too. instead of a melodic voice, it was the resonance you played through the strings under your calloused fingertips hooking him, once again pulling him into a trance, a spell you weren’t even conscious of casting. when it got to your solo in the middle of the song, backed up with an underlying chord progression from the rhythm guitarist and a deep bass line, he could feel it from head to toe. the entrapment, the sight in front of him that he couldn’t bear to look away from. the back up instruments set a platform, a center for you to take the stage in the small recording booth, for the focus of the listener to hear you, focus on you.

he had a job. he had buttons to press, things to adjust, he had to listen with an assessing ear, he had to snap out of it. he watched as your chipped nail polish slipped from string to string, the other hand clenched tightly around your guitar pick. he watched as you nodded along to the drums, eyebrows furrowed in focus of following the mid tempo groove, listening to the song as much as you were playing it. he knew that feeling, that multitasking, listening and doing and following and evaluating all at once.

he blinked a few times before directing his focus to the monitor instead of watching you shred in the booth, he fell in and out of focus for the entire session between his eyes being locked on you and making sure your song was being recorded properly. he thought he’d let go of what he felt, laid his feelings to rest in his favorite instrument beside his bed, but as he watched you strum along to the fourth track they’d record that day he decided maybe there was a reason your paths crossed once again.

just like that one night spent with him and his music, the feelings he didn’t want to address, he spiraled into yet another torment of not being able to process anything. all he had was this unidentifiable emotion, a pang in his chest, he didn’t know what to do with it or how to address it properly. he looked at from all sides, contradicted himself, tried to unpack it for exactly what it was, but he still felt himself unable to move from square one.

by the end of the session hongjoong’s brain was on backwards, he was barely of help to jag the entire time you were in the booth. jag gave him a pass even if he was entirely confused as to why hongjoong was acting so fucking weird, he’d never acted so out of it, even during the session with anitta. jag chopped it up to the fact that hongjoong was probably overworked much like himself, even if something tugged at him, telling him there was more going on in hongjoong’s head than just exhaustion.

the rest of the session went a lot easier than hongjoong thought it would based off of the insight he’d gotten from mingi, but he guessed he shouldn’t have assumed how you’d act from just one conversation that was ages ago. mingi hadn’t mentioned you or the band again since that night, deeming it a sensitive topic, one he’d like to avoid since him and hongjoong kept the people they fucked very separate, except for those they shared. you were rather quiet towards hongjoong, only what was necessary for getting the recording done, he couldn’t pull anything from you except for eyes boring into the back of his head from across the room and a short snap of a complaint when he noticed a bleed from the microphone.

hongjoong was exhausted beyond belief by eight o’clock yet he still had an entire night ahead of him. he packed up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, relieved he was about to go drink away the new emotions he’d encountered.

“you alright?” jag asked, a weird question coming from jag who usually kept their conversations light hearted, he rarely picked hongjoong apart.

“‘m fine, just tired,” hongjoong waved him off with a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. jag lifted an eyebrow, too curious but too scared to ask. him and hongjoong’s relationship was specific, a teacher and his student, despite the not always innocent conversation that sometimes felt like it was between two friends. he didn’t find it his place to intervene on the conversation that’s been going on for hours in hongjoong’s head, better to let hongjoong come to him if need be.

“see you monday,” was all jag called after hongjoong who had already left the studio’s door, an echo through the heavy wood.

hongjoong didn’t expect to turn and see you pressed up against the wall, guitar encased at your side, the sleeves of your sweatshirt rolled up to your elbows. you smiled, an eerie smile, one that told hongjoong everything he was feeling earlier was about to be intensified, amplified, much like the sound of your instrument.

“you didn’t think to tell me you worked here?” you tilted your head, the smile of a cheshire cat sitting wide on your cheekbones.

“and how would i do that?” hongjoong grabbed your guitar case from beside the wall and began walking, ushering you to follow along. if you were going to talk, it should be away from jag’s curious ears.

“maybe make use of the phone number you’ve had in your phone for two years?” it sounded like a question but hongjoong assumed it was more of an instruction, a curious sentence that left much to be dissected.

hongjoong laughed a soft chuckle, “i didn’t think it was necessary.”

“well that’s rude,” you scoffed, grabbing your guitar case from his hand and swinging it over your own shoulder, “this is the last place i would’ve expected to see you.”

“and i feel the opposite,” he turned to look at you, almost his height in your platform sneakers, “you laughed at me when i knew exactly where you’d end up.”

“ah, buttering me up now, are we?” you smirked, “didn’t know you thought so highly of clotho.”

“why else would i sleep with the lead guitarist?” hongjoong joked, his own smile growing wide, the fog he felt in the studio was long gone by the time you reached the end of the hallway. entering the space just before the elevator to take them down to the lobby, hongjoong pressed the button and faced you.

“that’s fucked up,” you said between your giggles, “you wanna be my groupie now?” you shifted your weight to one foot, making yourself just smaller than the man before you. “i’ll allow it, i guess.”

“who said i wanted to do it again?” hongjoong’s mischievous smile was permanent across his cheeks now and you gasped, slapping his bicep. the elevator dinged and opened quickly, an empty dimly lit space demanding you to continue the conversation.

“what are you doing later?” you asked as you stepped inside, leaning against the bar that was fused against the wall opposite of hongjoong.

“going to baby’s all right with a couple friends,” hongjoong answered plainly, ignoring the voice tugging at him to ask you to come with.

“got room for one more?” you beat him to it, you’ve been bold since the day he met you, he didn’t know why it took him by surprise.

he stuttered a bit in his agreement and you told him to meet you at your apartment, a new one in brooklyn, not the one you used to occupy in queens. he didn’t have the strength to tell you he grew up in the same neighborhood, he knew your address like the back of his hand, that this is yet another thread sewn into the web. hongjoong believed in fate and he believed in signs, it seemed that every one was pointing in your direction. he trusted the signs, trusted in luck, trusted in fate, trusted in whatever kept itself on his shoulder that this path he was taking was the right one.

he never cared much for right and wrong when it came to anything, especially entertaining the idea that his own actions would change how his life would turn out. hongjoong never had any goals or expectations for his life, he assumed how he’d turn out before the age of fifteen, he was careless unless it benefited him to put in an effort for anything yet he never considered that might put him on the wrong path, it just was what it was. from stealing a twenty dollar bill from his mother’s second hand coach bag to working alongside one of the most famous music producers in the city, before two years ago when hongjoong actually felt that he was moving upward, he never took into consideration that maybe his actions did have consequences, maybe he chose what path his life went in by the smallest of decisions.

he showed up to your apartment late, much to your dismay, even if you were also late yourself. you took about ten more minutes after he’d buzzed up to your apartment to let you know he’d arrived, leaving him to his own devices on your stoop. when you’d finally walked out of your front door hongjoong’s right nostril twitched, he was used to only one thing giving him this kind of rush, this sensation he felt at every nerve ending. you were fucking breathtaking with your microscopic skirt and shirt so small he didn’t know if you could consider it anything other than a bra. makeup dark and sultry, lips so red he had flashbacks to when he scrubbed smudges of it off of the base of his neck. your hair was down and straightened, framing your cheekbones so beautifully, the shadows it created made you look like a creature of the night in the most dangerous way.

he felt like he was looking at you for the first time all over again, the last two years had done you well, all of the coke and drinking and partying hadn’t aged you in the slightest. it was rare that excessive consumption didn’t affect one's appearance, most of his hometown friends had begun to resemble zombies years ago, you seemed to be immortal. the walk to the bar was short, less than ten blocks away, and hongjoong was grateful. he was using tonight for release, he needed to let go of everything he’s been responsible for, take a night to forget everything and just be. of course, out of all nights, someone who he worked with just a few hours ago would be accompany him, but at least it’s you.

“have you been to this place?” you asked, the innocence in your voice contradicting the heaviness of your boots hitting the concrete.

hongjoong nodded, his hands shoved in his pockets, “many times.”

“we performed here a couple months ago i think, i don’t really remember it much, i got hammered as soon as we got off the stage,” you were talking mindlessly, just sparking up a conversation so you weren’t walking silently beside each other.

“it’s cute, less grungy and dirty and more..” he racked his brain for a way to describe it, falling into a momentary silence, “picturesque for the instagram models of the city, i guess?”

you laughed at that, “then i’ll put your hands to good use and you can be my personal photographer for the night, my followers will be grateful.”

hongjoong’s lips grew into a smirk, “there are better ways to put my hands to use.”

“we still have a whole night to get through before i can attest to that,” you raised a finger towards him in protest, your own smile growing, the two of you falling into easier conversation once the flirting started up again.

“we’ve only walked a block, we can easily turn around,” hongjoong came to a stop, looking back to the stretch of ground they had just hiked, eyes full of amusement yet he was also dead serious. there are plenty ways to let off steam.

you rolled your eyes, “normally i’d agree, but i’m in the mood to party and if you’re anything like you were two years ago i don’t think you’re capable of a quickie.”

the two of you fell into stride again, “i can say with confidence that i am not fond of quickies.”

you brought up work after that, talked about the album, compared recording with hongjoong and jag to max. hongjoong half tuned out at that, he answered where he needed to but he was over the work talk, he needed to get to that bar now.

you met up with his hometown friends once you got there, people you slightly recognized from backstage two years ago, but there were a few hongjoong had to introduce you to. once you mentioned clotho you had more to talk about with the group of people, being the lead guitarist of a band signed by republic records was always a great conversation starter.

hongjoong kept his tab open, let you order whatever you wanted on it for the night, to you that was an invitation to get fucked up as much as it was payback for snorting all of your coke two years ago. you were intrigued at this point, not just by hongjoong himself but about what was going on in his head. you’d assessed the situation while you were getting ready as much as you wanted to leave it at a free night of partying, but you couldn’t shake the curiosity that came along with the presence of kim hongjoong.

after he had left your apartment two years ago in such a rush, you’d hoped he’d call you for at least two weeks after. even a text, whatever you could get from him was enough, because you’d never had a night like that with anyone, the sex being something that no other person you’d invited to your bed could compare to. everything about him physically, the shared interests, the banter, the easy conversation. you were coked out of your mind yet you still remember every detail of that night, even almost a thousand days later hongjoong had left his mark on you without it being intentional.

then you saw him again, and he was working for you. he was sitting behind the mixing board with headphones on, looking unbothered as ever, you wondered if he even remembered you, if that night stayed with him the way it stayed with you. once your eyes met and you could feel the knowing shared from a single, too long stare through the glass, you had to talk to him, had to pick his brain, had to insert yourself into his life like what you shared wasn’t just one night so you could do it again.

you took his invitation and drank to your heart’s content, and he did, too. both of you ended up in the cramped crowd of the DJ, so unlike hongjoong, very much like you, drowning in a swamp of sweaty bodies. everyone was jumping, arms swinging to the beat, phones with flashes on all pointed towards the stage. hongjoong was gone as he planned, his mind forgetting everything except for the beautiful woman beside him, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. watching you as you jumped in the air, swaying to the music, everything bouncing to the bass, he was getting impatient and his dick could feel it.

he needed a bump to take the edge off, reset him so he didn’t rush you out of your fun, he enjoyed seeing you so carefree. in your monologue about your album you’d seem stressed, hongjoong assumed you needed to get away for a night just as much as he did.

“i need a bump,” he yelled over the music, grabbing your forearm that you kept at your side to get your attention, the other one hung above your head.

“me too!” you yelled back, looking up to him with those big doe eyes, there goes his reset. he didn’t think you’d come with, too wrapped up in the set the DJ was playing, but he stupidly thought wrong – you were just like him, after all. your hand latched onto his and he lead you out of the crowd, through the crowded bar, and then outside to the sidewalk of broadway. he nodded his head to the bouncer and wrapped around the building that still had a line outside the door to somewhere quieter, where people would be less likely to interrupt you.

“joong, i think we could’ve stayed in front, it’s not like he cares,” you pointed out, referring to the bouncer as you finally turned the corner, pulling your box of cigarettes from your purse.

he pulled the baggie from his pocket along with his keys, splitting them until he found his apartment key that had old coke lodged into the rivets of the metal, “excuse me for not wanting to share.”

you giggled, stumbling a little bit over your feet when you tried to light the cigarette, “wanna go soon?”

he looked up to you with eyebrows raised as he brought the key up to his nose, “yeah? you ready?”

“want you already, tired of waiting,” your legs instinctively crossed, thighs pressing together as you pulled from the cigarette, the tip burning a bright orange.

his smile returned, the devilish one that he seemed to only wear around you, “what? you don’t wanna party anymore? that’s the only reason we’re here, baby.”

your thighs flexed below your skirt at his words as he brought the key up to your nose after your exhale of smoke, smirking as you sniffed, “don’t call me baby unless you’re fucking me against the wall.”

he laughed at your body reacting to his words, something that came so naturally to him throwing you for a loop, the thought crossing his mind just for a moment that maybe he should’ve done this a lot sooner. he let you burn down half the cigarette before he was feeling the same level of impatience and you were starting to look even sexier, the rush of the bump coursing through his blood and sending all of it straight to his dick.

“let’s go say bye and then i’ll fuck you stupid at home, no bathroom this time,” he grabbed your hand again instinctively, leading you back inside the club, letting you throw the still lit cigarette to the busy street.

he found his friends quick and said bye even quicker, his pants started tightening the moment you crossed your legs and they weren’t getting any baggier as time went on. the walk back to your apartment reminded him of the subway ride from the last time, each block you walked had you pressed up on a random stoop, hongjoong’s tongue in your mouth and hand sliding farther and farther up your skirt with each stop. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, too needy, too impatient, a feeling you kept passing back and forth through spit and moans on brooklyn doorsteps.

you didn’t let lust take over in the entryway this time, hongjoong quickly learned this apartment wasn’t just your own but instead shared. a man’s jacket sat hung on the coat rack on the foyer, three pairs of men’s shoes shuffled about the floor. that possessiveness returned, coating a thick layer over him before he looked up. your apartment was massive, no way you were affording this on your own even in brooklyn, maybe you had two roommates. the apartment was decorated less cozy than the last time he was here, more like your band’s style, rough and dirty and dim. it didn’t smell of vanilla but instead mahogany, a hint of bourbon, so much more masculine than he’d expected.

hongjoong’s gut twisted with the information and he pushed it down, ignored it, pretended you shared the space with a ghost instead as you lead him through the apartment and to your room quickly, pushing him against the door the second you heard the latch enter the door frame. you were on your knees in seconds, not wasting any time, only enhancing hongjoong’s need to have control as you unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down.

“been dreaming of having this dick again for years,” you mumbled absent mindedly as you finally got him bare, naked and leaking, eyes wide and blown not just from the coke.

“should’ve came and got it then,” your revelation didn’t sink in, didn’t seem to click in hongjoong’s brain, too fucked up to think of anything other than fucking your throat as he finally got the wet heat of your mouth around him.

your nails clawed at the skin of his thighs as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke, gagging yourself but pushing through nonetheless. hongjoong had his fingers tied in your hair, the back of his head pressed against the door, low groans leaving his lips with each tighten of your throat.

“so fucking good, missed that mouth,” drawled out of his lips as you worked him faster, wetter, your saliva beginning to run down his thighs. he loved it messy, dirty, you were taking him in his favorite way. he was in heaven, but the impatience was only growing. he needed you loud, screaming, cumming around his dick over and over again.

“should’ve came and got it then,” you shot back as you pulled off of him with a pop, catching your breath. tears laid in your lash line, lipstick so smudged and faded hongjoong wondered if it made a ring around the base of him.

“on the bed,” he ordered before you had the chance to take him in your mouth again and you were on your feet in a second, ripping your clothes off before you nearly jumped on the bed, greeting him with all of your limbs planted on the mattress on all fours.

“impatient,” he mumbled as he undressed himself, crawling onto the bed behind you, leaving a rough smack against your ass.

you moaned in response as your body jerked forward, legs spreading further in response. he loved that about you, the pain slut that lived inside you even if you tried to put up a dominant front. you weren’t shy about what you wanted, what you needed from him, always so responsive. maybe you were his favorite.

he slipped inside you with ease, you were wet enough to take him, you’d been waiting for this for hours. he set a brutal pace immediately, pounding into you leaving you a loud, crying mess. it wasn’t long before your arms gave out below you, sending your face flying into the comforter, definitely leaving streaks of black from your eye makeup. hongjoong couldn’t wait to see the mess you’d made.

“such a perfect pussy, like it was made for me,” his voice was slurred and low, close to babbles as he spoke deliriously between thrusts, he felt fucked out too, entranced by your pussy that was sucking him in.

“‘t was, it is, it's yours,” your voice matched his, cheek pressed to the mattress, one hand clawing behind yourself and another at the sheets to grab something, anything for leverage, “don’t stop, so good.”

he didn’t indulge in your grabs as he felt himself getting close, he definitely wasn’t lasting as long as he wanted to, but after a small break and another line he’d be roaring to go again. he wrapped an arm around your torso, middle finger finding your clit, circling it steadily. you cried out, jerking against him, thighs starting to shake under him.

“gonna cum!” you cried out, the strain in your voice let him know the tears that were in your eyes earlier had fell. he kept at his rhythm, fucking into you at the same pace of your circles and you tightened around him, letting go, crying out with no remorse for anyone who might also be here. as you grabbed at his hand and forced it off of you he let himself focus on his own orgasm, fucking back into you at the pace he knew would have him letting go in seconds.

“inside, joong, please,” you begged, voice rough and raspy, not giving him the chance to ask you where you wanted him. he indulged, emptying himself inside you with a groan, stilling as he leaned over the two koi fish swimming up your back.

your legs gave out after he pulled out, falling flat against your stomach, legs still twitching against the cotton. you moaned at the emptiness, the release, and hongjoong laid himself beside you. you stayed in silence for minutes, breaths of air occupying the air, the only thing you could hear in your bedroom. you had 80s thrash metal posters all over your walls, different paintings, things he recognized from your old room. it made him smile, knowing he was back here again, a different apartment yet the things he pointed out last time were still here. two years have gone by yet some things just don’t change.

“gonna have to show me your place next time,” you finally spoke, turning your head to face him, pulling your arms under your face to rest on.

“next time?” hongjoong asked, raising an eyebrow, “what makes you so confident that there’ll be a next time?”

you rolled your eyes, “you have no choice, there’s no way in hell i’m letting you get away from me again. and you’re putting your number in my phone before you go.”

you didn’t know that he had every intention of seeing you again, of showing up whenever you called, of doing whatever the hell you wanted him to whenever you wanted him to do it. he didn’t know that those calls would come quicker than he thought, he’d take you time and time again, these visits becoming more frequent the more time you spent together. he decided the feelings he harbored didn’t need to be unpacked, he could leave them unaddressed if that meant he could see you, be with you, get himself inside you after a long day. for the months to follow he stood by that, he didn’t think much of your relationship other than the fact that you had one, unlabeled and undisclosed.

he left your apartment the next morning slowly, much unlike last time, almost as if he didn’t want to leave. but you called him later that night, asked him if he wanted to come over, and of course he said yes, he hadn’t said no to that question yet. he found out you lived with two of your bandmates, yasu, the leader and the green haired drummer he learned was noa. they were both just as cool as you, that much he knew from the recording session you’d spent together, and hongjoong got along with them just as well as he got along with you.

he’d spent many nights partying with you and your band after shows or on random weeknights, just as much as you spent time with hongjoong and his friends from brooklyn, or even nights with just himself and mingi. you got to know each other on a level he hadn’t expected you to, one he didn’t necessarily allow you to, including that you found out his real age, you didn’t speak to him for an entire night of drinking after he’d told you the truth. you let it go later that night when he had you pressed against the wall, outside, behind the bar you were at, fingers scissoring into you for ignoring him, denying you release for the following hours to come.

hongjoong was at all of your recording sessions, he helped with marketing your band, helped other interns and even your manager with scheduling performances, interviews, you started to bleed into every part of his life, every aspect of his job. you found out about his laziness with schoolwork, you denied him the pleasure of being inside you until he got his shit together before the semester ended, it was a long two weeks for him, his fist and his coke dealer.

hongjoong was enamored by you, your lifestyle, your entire being. he didn’t ever think about what you were, he kept his thoughts about your relationship very surface level, terrified as to what would happen if he looked any deeper than that. he didn’t even take the time to consider whether or not you were exclusive, he didn’t let himself think about what you’d look like under someone else and how that made him feel, he didn’t need to. neither of you had any time, you were always with him, he was always with you if he wasn’t busy with the company or what was left of his junior year, you were too wrapped up in one another to think about anyone else.

somehow hongjoong was one of the last people to find out about your first tour, a quick four months across north america over the summer, ranging from june to september. he was ecstatic when he was told by his superior, he couldn’t wait to talk to you about it, the celebratory party to follow, just the fact that you were growing, making it just like he knew you would.

the label had you in a quick meeting when he found out, thirty minutes you spent inside the room with frosted glass windows, hongjoong spent his lunch break waiting just outside the door. the more time he spent tapping his foot, bouncing his knee, the more his brain started to think. you’d known about this for a month now, sitting on the information, not sharing it with him when he thought you shared everything. it became the longest thirty minutes of his life, he hadn’t felt this way in a long time, the drop of his stomach was such a rare occurrence he couldn’t remember five other times it’s ever happened to him. why hadn’t you told him sooner?

it terrified him, enough to leave his spot outside the door, to go all the way outside the building until he was greeted with the scent of summer in manhattan. he paced up and down the length of the building, racking his brain for why this was happening now, after he’d spent so much time with you, after he’d gotten completely comfortable around you, after he’d sank way too fucking deep. why hadn’t you told him sooner? it was as if his world was closing in on him, he hadn’t even felt this way when he was on the brink of consciousness before narcan was shot into his bloodstream, he’d never felt an attachment to someone let alone having it on the brink of being ripped away from him. this was betrayal.

it was only four months, but that was almost double the time you’d actually spent together. he felt himself walking on a road the past two months, a tunnel that had something unknown at the end, something totally new to him. he allowed it, he was blissfully ignoring his discomfort, the unknown, embracing this new type of relationship, this type of closeness with someone. he’d only gotten this close with mingi, only just allowed that type of friendship, he hadn’t let anyone else in since then, not even jag who he spent most of his time with other than you and mingi. he wouldn’t allow himself to bleed so freely, to show himself so naked, to give anyone else the opportunity to know him or hurt him. he kept everyone at arm's length for a reason.

hongjoong assumed this was the end of whatever was perched on his shoulder as he looked up to the clear, bright sky beyond the buildings, that was the only explanation he could muster up. he said goodbye, he thanked it for being with him all this time, for keeping a watchful eye, keeping him above the water. he wished it well.

he sniffed a bump and walked back inside the building with a distant cloud looming over him, a stoic look to his face, a carelessness that draped over him like your bedsheets in the early hours of the morning. he wouldn’t let you see him in such a state, you’d seen enough of him, more than you were ever supposed to.

hongjoong has never believed in regret, he’s a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, everything you go through is to teach you something. from overdosing on more than one occasion, it taught him to not do someone else’s coke, to know his dealer on a personal level, to know what his drugs were cut with. from disappointing his parents time and time again, it taught him to get sneakier, not give them hopes that he could shatter. from turning in weeks worth of homework late and only just passing his last semester of his junior year, it taught him to stay on top of his studies or he could easily lose everything he’s worked for. from sleeping with the lead guitarist of a random band in brooklyn and ending up an intern at republic records, it taught him that purpose and opportunities are everywhere if you’re keeping an eye out for them. from getting into something that’s the closest thing to a romantic relationship he’d ever experienced with the woman of his dreams, it taught him that if you leave your feelings exposed, someone is able to betray them, take them in their hands and toy with them, crush them if they wanted to.

he thought himself naïve. he wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

with a quick fifteen minutes and still not a word to you, he put his walls back up, higher than they’d ever been before, he was sina, rose and maria. he was aurelian when he walked straight past you in the lobby, hadrian when he walked past your bandmates who whipped their heads around to watch him walk to the elevator, jericho when he slipped inside the thankfully open door. he went back to the studio where jag was waiting for him, who playfully asked him if he was fucking his girlfriend in the bathroom and if that’s why he was late.

hongjoong snapped, told him to fuck off and jag listened. he didn’t ask any questions for the rest of the session, they went through the motions, got their workload finished for the day and went their separate ways. jag knew, of course jag knew, jag knew hongjoong like the back of his hand by now. since january, five months the two have been a pair, close without being close, jag is an observant man and hongjoong is not good at hiding his emotions.

hongjoong didn’t answer your calls, didn’t answer your incessant rings of his doorbell, ignored your begs at the door of the recording studio, it didn’t take long until everything stopped. you got on that bus headed straight to florida and he couldn’t stop the slip, the easy slide of becoming the eighteen year old version of himself again.

he turned his brain off outside of the music he made, the paintings he created, the drawings that now littered even the floor of his bedroom. the label was busy, he immersed himself in his work, he didn’t even have school to keep him occupied until august, he let every ounce of his energy go into republic records and substances. after work he was in the pits of brooklyn, seeing every show he could, in every club in the city, taking every drug he could get his hands on. his friends were happy to have him back, to have the fun hongjoong in the mix for their benders, another body to sleep with at the end of the night.

mingi forced him out of it before school started up again, telling him to get his shit together or he’d really lose everything this time. hongjoong was malleable by now, brain so fried from his summer that he just nodded at mingi and tried to set himself up. mingi helped him, basically set hongjoong up himself, enrolled him in his senior year and chose his classes. hongjoong didn’t care, he wished he could do it himself, wished he could think for longer than two minutes without your name crossing his mind. for someone who couldn’t remember your name for the life of him, it was the only thing he could think now, it wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

at this point hongjoong thought you a phantom, that night he saw you as a creature of the night would really come true — you invaded his dreams, his nightmares, his trips when he dropped acid. you were everywhere, you were everything, he didn’t know how he could ever come back from this, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

as he sat on the balcony of his apartment in mid august with a joint between his fingers, hours after vomiting up the oxy one of his friends had slipped him, he decided he had enough.

hongjoong is a lot of things. he’s obsessive, he’s a wild card, he’s an addict, he’s a hard worker, he’s a partier.

but first and foremost, hongjoong is a creator.

he creates art, he creates music, he writes, he draws, he paints. he recites songs from memory, he plays them on the guitar after hearing them just once, hongjoong is gifted. hongjoong created himself, he created this life, he created every path he’s ever walked on. fuck luck and fuck fate, hongjoong created every situation he’s ever been in, created every opportunity for himself, created the name that gets passed through every ear of republic records.

hongjoong created himself, and he’d burn the world down before someone could ever take that away from him. by september he’d become a junior producer, crossing the line of intern to employee in just nine months, faster than anyone else in republic record’s history.

he just hoped his resolve stayed intact when you finally stepped off that tour bus and walked back into republic records, ready to begin recording your band’s second album.

323 notes · View notes

drdemonprince · 5 months ago

Note

Why are people celebrating Robin diAngelo being accused of plagiarism

because she's a liberal grifter who received the majority of guilty white book-buyer's money in 2020 and peddled useless navel-gazing workshops to the tune of millions of dollars when people would have been far better off listening to more radical Black scholars.

if you're curious to learn more, I have a whole passage about everything that's wrong with White Fragility in my book Unlearning Shame. But I'd start with the Slate piece on the topic that I just linked above.

194 notes · View notes

mayaflowerxs · 2 years ago

Text

THE HOT BABYSITTER

Synopsis: Being untrusted, you are stuck in a rowdy house as your younger siblings are being babysat with the hottest guy you’ve ever met. Irritated by how loyal he is, you wonder how long he will last before he cracks upon the little game you’re playing on him.

Warning: Smut / Angst / Fluff. Swear word usage, Babysitter!Mark x Troublemaker!reader. Cheating, jealousy, alcohol consumption, virgin!Mark, Bratty!Reader, creampie, oral, kinda long sorry!

DOYOUNG

Masterlist: NCT AFFAIR SERIES

Pairing: Mark x f!reader

You didn’t understand what was the big deal. So what if you threw a huge party at your house? So what it got a little crazy and the night ended with over 10,000 dollars worth of damage repair? It’s not like you haven’t thrown countless of parties before. But yet something about this one had tipped your parents over the edge. After hours upon hours of them shouting in your ear about how irresponsible you were being, to have recklessly thrown a party with that many people whom you knew could care less about the thousands of dollars worth of property they were about to destroy. Especially with your little brothers in the other room most likely locked there as they watch their Paw Patrol. But it’s not like anyone got hurt,

That’s if you didn’t count that one jock who jumped from your roof into the pool and broke his ankle..

But much to your parents disagreement, they had enough of your scandals. Which is how you were left standing in front of your biggest most terrible punishments of all time. Stuck with a babysitter, and not just any. No you’d be stuck having Mark Lee, one of the most uptight and nerdiest boy you’ve gone to school with. And to watch him push up his glasses and give you a once over, you knew the next six months will be absolute hell for you.

And hell it was.

For the first few weeks were nothing but awkward silences. Your glaring constantly piercing through Mark’s skull but he pretended to not notice. And each time he approached you, he was quick to take a step back when he met your angered eyes. You simply couldn’t believe your parents could do this to you. Have they not known you at all? You can’t associate yourself with losers like him, and if everyone were to find out he’s your babysitter and not just for your brothers…forget it. Your reputation is toasted. You can’t truly say you know Mark but you’ve been attending to the same school as him for over all of your primary years.

Mark isn’t as special like the other kids in your grade. Just like everyone else in private school, he also comes from wealth. Parents much like yours spend most of their time traveling and little to no time actually parenting. Privileged to many opportunities that’ll kick start him a successful future, one that many lower class citizens have to work thrice as hard to achieve. He joined many clubs and has won many medals and certificates. Even being valedictorian, difference between him and other student’s like you were simple. He actually cared to make a name for himself. To put in that work so he’d be recognized for his achievements and not for his family’s name. He wasn’t you who didn’t care whether you were actually passing your classes or not knowing your parents would pay the school to keep quiet and pass you. It’s how you even graduated high school, and even got accepted to the top most prestigious school in all of the country. But not Mark, no he worked hard to get in and refused any sort of help from his parents.

Which is exactly why your parents hired him. At the age of fourteen Mark got his first ever job at an ice cream parlor. Buying himself his own clothes, gadgets and even his first ever car although, his parents did pay for more than half of it he was just convinced he bought it all without no help. Along with being a scholar he chose to do volunteer work and has given himself quite a name around town. The golden boy, to the adults he could do no wrong. To the elders, he’s an angel sent from above, to the kids he’s an idol but to the teenagers who actually grew up with him. They can only think of two words, kiss ass. There’s not much of any actual reason why he’s hated just simply for the fact that he’s such a rule follower, never wants to have any fun and takes his responsibilities very seriously. It’s even worse that now he’s apart of the Dean, most worry to speak about things in case he might be listening and report them.

Which concludes to the very last thing, you also go to to the same top most prestigious school in all of the country. And although you couldn’t even think of his name the second he came in view of you until he introduced himself, he on the other hand knew yours the second he saw you. Y/n y/l/n, most popular girl in school since the first grade. Have gotten detention and suspended for various reasons all of which are very ridiculous. You never take anything serious and much rather cause havoc than to study. You’re everything he would never look for in a girl. And glad he doesn’t have you for a sister or who knows how crazy you’d make him. But he chose to work for your family, he chose to babysit not only your brothers but you. And that’s something he doesn’t plan on backing out no matter how determined you are to make him go insane. Insane enough for him to quit.

“Uh where are you going..?” Had currently been busy playing with your brothers, the youngest merely two years old in his lap. Mark’s head perks up at the sound of heels clicking on the stairs, descending down and there you stood wearing a tight but very revealing black dress. “You look pretty sis.” Your eight year old brother, Iseul tells you, winking at him and sending him a soft smile. You grab your purse nearest the door. “Out.” Completely taken aback, Mark gets on his feet and rests your baby brother next to Iseul. Rushing out the door after you, he stops you before you can enter your car. Having it suddenly closed before you can fully open it, you raise your brow at the man standing before you. “Can i help you?” “Im sorry, i guess you must’ve not been made aware that you are currently grounded?” “No I know:”

“Oh…you do.” Rolling your eyes you push him to the side and go to open the door again only for it to be closed shut once more. “Then am I right to assume that you’re then simply disobeying your parents orders.” “And what those might be?” “Oh I don’t know…no cellphone.” He takes your phone out of your hand, “No keys to the car.” He takes those too and lifts his hand as you go to grab them. “And most definitely no going outside. Now let’s get back inside so that you can go change.” Scoffing you smack his hand and take a step back. “Look here Mark, don’t try to get all high and mighty simply because you work for my parents. How about you focus on actually doing your job and take care of my brothers.” “I am doing my job, I’m looking after you. And rules say you can’t go out.” He goes to grab your arm again but as he tries to walk the two of you inside you, don’t budge. Feet planted to the ground, like a child about to throw a tantrum you shake your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With a sigh, Mark shoves your phone and keys in his back pocket. “Alright then, have it your way.” “Thank you, now as soon as you hand me back my - HEY!” Thrown over his shoulder, lifted off the ground you smack Mark’s back in protest. “Put me down you asshole!” Thrashing and squirming but to no avail, the boy had a tight grip on you and he wasn’t planning on letting you go until you were inside. Door locked behind him, he finally does set you down. “Now do you want to be a good big sister and hang out with your little brothers? If so go upstairs and change, we’ll be waiting for you.” “God you’re so damn annoying!” Stomping your way up to the stairs, Mark hears the loud slam of your bedroom door and sighs in relief. He’s been stern before, being serious for most of his life has its benefits but never did he think he’d have to act such a way towards you. The popular girl he’s attended school with.

For years he’d watched you from a far. He always wondered how you could live your life without any care. While you had practically the whole school stuck to your side, he was a loner. Sat by himself, worked by himself and ate by himself. He didn’t mind though, to you he didn’t exist but to him, you were like a celebrity. Even though he didn’t care about what you were up to, it was almost impossible to go anywhere without hearing the latest news about you. He assumed you’d hit your peak after high school but three years had passed and if anything you’ve gotten even more popular! Truly it’s as if you really were a celebrity. You’ve gotten your face on multiple magazine covers and even have a social media account with almost half a million followers. Even now he still finds it hard to believe he’s actually babysitting you.

Minutes had passed since your tantrum and he has yet to see you come down the stairs. Maybe you were taking your time to change, maybe you fell asleep or chose to stay in your room. A part of him felt bad, it was his job. Strict orders from your parents to not let you out of the house, it’s not like he can disobey them. So with a plate of cookies he had freshly made for your brothers, he makes his way over to your room. A soft knock but not a response from you is heard. “Y/n? Can i come in?” Another soft knock but to no avail, not a single response. Man you must really be mad at him. With a disappointed sigh, he opens the door and begins to speak. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier…” Room empty, he sets the plate of cookies down. “Y/n?” Looking around, he noticed the bathroom light on and door slightly opened. “Y/n?” No sight of you, but the window had been opened. And as he nears it, he looks out and sees there have been a ladder that would lead straight down to the ground.

“Damn it.”

You finally managed to arrive at the party, albeit late. But the second you enter you grin to hear everyone quick to greet you. You were the life of the party and as they proceed to hand you red solo cups of hard liquor in it you were quick to accept them. “Where the hell have you’ve been?” Many always asked you, and with a shrug you wave them off. “Annoying rules my parents implemented.” Knowing where you come from they nod, “Alright who’s ready to have some fun!�� You clap your hands that follow by a chorus of cheers. At some point the time had slipped past your mind, focused on taking shots of tequila and playing games such as beer pong. It wasn’t until you had fruit punch all over your dress did it cause a pause in your time of fun. “The hells wrong with you dickhead?” The boy widens his eyes and stutters out an apology. “I’m s-so s-sorry!” Glaring at him as girls hand your napkins and try to get the juice out of your expensive dress. The jocks near you get in the poor boys face. “Who the hell invited him?” One whispered not too subtly. “God what a loser.” Another says. “I’m sorry hun this is only going to get stained how about if you try to wash it with some water?” One of your friends say, “we can follow you.” “No it’s alright, besides I think I need some air.” Walking off and heading towards the bathroom which happened to be nearest to the front door, you definitely are taken by surprise when you’re suddenly come face to face with none other than Mark himself. Which you have to admit, looks pretty pissed off.

“Mark?”

“I see you’ve gotten yourself pretty comfortable huh?” He tilts his head at you, jaw clenched and brows crunched. Just behind you were the jocks that had busied themselves and kicking out the poor bastard that spilled the fruit punch all over your dress. “Hey y/n who’s this loser?” They nudge your shoulder. Eyes slightly widening, you glance between them and Mark and see he’s about to open his mouth. No way can they know about yours and Mark’s embarrassing situation. “Oh! You know scoring myself another point!” The guys gain a smirk on their faces, leaving a confused Mark in front of you. “What ? --“ Completely unprepared for you to suddenly cup his face and smash your lips on top of his, you push him up against the wall. Suddenly there’s a loud chorus of cheers and wolf whistles around you. Mark had tried to push you off him. Hands at your waist but to the crowd now growing around you, it seemed as if the golden boy has finally loosened up a little.

“Hell yeah! Hey get out of the bathroom and give these two some privacy!” One dude shouted and aired out the bathroom. Pulling away, you quickly grab Mark’s hand and drag him inside the bathroom with you. Closing and locking the door shut, you sigh in relief. Only to turn around and see a very flustered looking boy. Red in the face and chest slightly heaving from having to take deep breaths. “Oh relax virgin it’s not like we’re actually going to do something in here.” Frowning once more, he clears his throat and stands up straight. “I’m not a virgin.” Sending him a look, brow slightly lifted he scoffs and shakes his head. “Okay and so what?”

“Wow never thought you’d actually admit that.” He widens his eyes and struggles to come up with something. “Well…uh…this isn’t about me anyways!” Nodding you pursue your lips and hum. Turning on the sink and attempt to wash off the stained dress. “This is about you! And what you’ve done! You disobeyed me! You disobeyed your parents and most of all you kissed me without my consent!” Chuckling you roll your eyes and turn to look at him. “Consent? It was just a kiss you’re making it seem like I stole your first kiss or something.” When there’s silence in the bathroom other than the muffled loud music blaring from outside your jaw is dropped. “No way!” “Shh! It’s not a big deal.” He mumbles almost embarrassed. Smiling look an idiot, it only irritated Mark and soon the scowl is brought back completely.

“What is a big deal is what’s going to happen to you once you come home.” “Oh?” Your voice raises a pitch. “Get your head out of the gutter.” Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “Oh please I’m just messing with you, don’t flatter yourself so much you wouldn’t be someone I’d go for anyways.” As much as Mark tried to not be bothered by your comment, he couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of hurt. Ouch. It’s silent momentarily, and Mark watched as you struggle to take off the stain. “Let’s go,” “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re not the boss of me.” “Keep staying here and that stain will never come off.” “It’ll come off.” Beginning to scrub harder, Mark sees you’re only making it worse. With a sigh, he stops your hand. “Come home and I’ll take off the stain.” “You know how?” “I am a man of many talents.” Eyeing him, you notice how serious he was being. So with a grunt you turn off the faucet, Mark about ready to open the bathroom door you stop him.

“Wait!” With a confused look and eyes silently questioning you what, he nervously gulps and takes a small step back when he sees you get much closer to him. “They’ll notice something’s up if you look normal.” Ruffling his hair and unbuttoning his shirt he goes to pull your hand away when you smack it way. “Relax virgin just play the damn part if you want to leave this damn party faster.” With a gruff, he allows you, watching silently as you turn on the faucet and wet your hands. “Seriously?” He asks you when you’re suddenly dampening his forehead with water to make it appear as sweat. “One last thing.” You lift a finger at him, he watched you take your lipstick out of your purse. Apply it on your lips, eyes widening like saucers when you get close to him, “Woah! Okay I don’t think-“ wincing when you suddenly step on his foot. His crouched state gives you the opportunity to attach your lips on his neck and with one big smooch there lied the large red print of lips shining brightly on his skin.

“Ok now lets go you big baby.” “Hey how come you still look normal?-“ “Shh be quiet!” And suddenly the door is opened and out you walk as if you had infact shagged with the school’s biggest nerd. Immediately engulfed with cheers and even more whistles as they noticed the proud smile on your face, and even more when they see the state Mark was in when he walked out. Never did Mark feel so embarrassed in his life, and just as you’re about to get wrapped up in your friend group to talk about all the juicy details, Mark had quickly gotten a hold of your waist and redirected you over to the door. “See y’all later!” You wave with a wink and as the two of you leave, another loud wave of yells are heard from inside. With an annoyed look on his face and eyes rolled, Mark walks the two of you over to his black BMW. Had just closed the door, he looks over to see you with a grin on your face. “Drop the grin you’re still getting it when you get home.” “Ooh kinky-“. “Out of the gutter y/n!”

Mark had in fact kept his word and soon what was six months of being grounded was up to eight months! Now you truly despised Mark. “You should be more like Mark!” You parents scolded you. But it was all the same thing over and over again. Mark being a respectable figure in town, how he’s very influential and responsible and you should be more like him. You just never would have guessed that you’d now be punished by joining Mark’s side in all of his boring activities. “No way.” Mark shrugs his shoulders and nods. “Too bad, now go get dressed or we’ll be late for the annual deep clean event.” You couldn’t believe it, not only did you have to suck up to the fact that he’s your babysitter but now you actually had to hang out with him? Truly the world hated you.

Despite all your protests unfortunately you had no choice but to be stuck with a hundred other people including Mark to pick up trash around the town’s lake. A grossed out look on your face each time you have to pick up some smelly old litter, especially when it’s sticky and slimy. Groaning when the black trash bag refuses to open properly and getting some of the trash to touch you. “I cant!” You drop the stick and bag. “Oh c’mon y/n, there’s only an hour left.” “An hour?!” You say in disbelief. “It’s not that bad.” Mark tries to reason but the small grin on his face is enough for you to understand he’s taking pleasure in all of this. “Screw you mark.” “Thought you said I’m not your type?” He chuckles as your suddenly throwing your bag at him, dodging it merely. “Come here!” And soon the rest of the group who’d actually been busy cleaning up the park, turn to look at the two of you running around like maniacs. The retractable stick in your hand as you chase after Mark who’s much too fast for you.

On your phone and moaning at the fact that your friends had currently gone on a shopping spree and to the beach. You on the other hand stuck sitting on a very uncomfortable beach chair. The closest to feeling as if you were at the beach you’d ever get. A large umbrella above you but even that can’t stop the terrible heat engulfing you. Bored completely out of your mind as you had no other choice but to be forced to attend one of Iseul’s soccer games. “Thought I said no cellphone.” Your phone is suddenly snatched from the boy you’ve grown used to being stuck to your side every damn second of the day. Eyes rolled you scoff up at him before noticing his appearance. In shorts and a black tight tank top. You noticed just how toned he was. Wow. Was this really the nerd that had been babysitting you? Snapping out of it, you clear your throat. “You have my other one, I had no choice but to get a new one-“ as you go to reach for it, he pulls it away. “Well then I guess you’re going without two phones now.” “Oh c’mon Mark I have been doing literally everything with you! Please give me a break!”

“This is a break. You’re not here for me, you’re here for your younger brother now be a good big sister and watch the game.” “The game hasn’t even begun yet, I’ve been stuck having to watch a bunch of eight year olds do the exact same lap over and over and over again. Besides where the hell is their coach?”

“You’re speaking to him.” Sitting up straight, you tilt your head at him in confusion. “You?…their coach?” “Yes? …is that so hard to believe?” Eyeing him, you shake your head. “No…” Definitely didn’t come off as the sports kinda guy but eh can’t judge a book by its cover. “Game will start soon, I better see you paying attention.” He points his fingers at his eyes and sends them over to you, jogging off to join his team as the opposing ones have started to enter the field. “Not like I had anything better to do.” You sigh sadly. Eventually as the game started, you had surprised yourself the more you grow to be a lot more interested in the game than you thought you would. So much you yelled just as much as the soccer moms had. Yelling out demands to pass the ball to the other teammates. Cursing at the referee when he held up yellow cards for no reason —in your opinion given your brothers team can simply do no wrong. And at some point almost caused a fight with one of the kids father from the opposing team.

Even having Mark come up to separate the two of you. “Okay!..” he says with an awkward chuckle, forcing a smile so that no one’s moods begin to turn sour. Walking you back over to your seat, he lowers his voice so that only you can hear him. “When I said to pay attention I didn’t mean to start a fit-“ “BUT HE-“ standing infront of you and gesturing for you to take a seat, when you do he crouched down. Hands on your knees as he whispers to you. “I know he was being an ass,” “Thank you!” “But for your brothers sake, please keep your cool? Mmh?” With a huff, you exhale and nod. “Fine.” “Good girl.” He softly pinches your chin and stands to return back to his side of the field. Shocked, you feel slightly bothered at the way you felt by his actions. Why it made your stomach turn and heart palpitate who knows? And yet as the game continued you couldn’t help but notice just how focused Mark was as well. Yelling out words of encouragement, brows scrunched as he demands the kids some orders for them to follow.

Something about this side of Mark had you feeling bothered. So much you even had to cross your legs to keep yourself calm. “Get your head out of the gutter.” You tell yourself as you smack your head. Thankfully you manage to ignore the growing feeling inside you, your brother ended up scoring the winning goal and at last the game ended. Just as Mark’s about to give Iseul a hug and a congratulations- when he’s rudely shoved to the side. And instead, you’re the one engulfing your little brother in a big bear hug. “You did so good!” You jump in excitement as your brother joins you with a large grin plastered on his face. Seeing the wholesome interaction, Mark forgets the fact that you so rudely pushed him. “Congratulations champ, how about we go celebrate, the three of us?”

To say you were gaining feelings for your babysitter would be hard for you to accept. You were in denial, there was no way you were actually catching feelings for Mark Lee, the ultimate prissy nerd. Heck if it wasn’t for your current situation with him you sure as hell would not ever associate yourself with him. And yet here you were, making pastries with him alongside your little brothers. In the backyard playing tag and hide and seek with them. In the living room binge watching kids movies and even listening in on Mark’s story telling. Heck at some point you even shushed your brother when he interrupted him, “I wanna hear what happens next!” But it seems like catching feelings weren’t the only problem brewing up. Word got around of how much time you’ve been spending with Mark and soon rumors had gotten around that you were apparently dating him!

You denied them, but you could only say so much when there’s just so many pictures of the two of you together. Especially when those of you two getting ice cream together spread around campus. Completely ignoring the fact that your little brother was there and it had been when he won his game. After the whole ordeal at the party, many were certain you were screwing him and some even spoke to you asking how the biggest goodie two shoes was like in bed, and how big he was. It was hard to deny it all without causing suspicion as to why you’re even hanging out with him in the first place and not get exposed for being babysat by him. And unfortunately as much as you began to like the guy, you felt as if you had no choice but to go along with the public’s general assumption.

That you were screwing him.

“WHAT?!”

“Oh relax Mark it’s not anything bad.” “Anything bad? Y/n you do know you’re basically pimping me out?” Tilting your head, you squint your eyes and hum. “Not exactly sure how that is.” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and paces around the living room. “Look y/n Im not like you, I don’t go around recklessly and start spreading rumors.” “Hey it’s not like I did it intentionally. “I don’t care! I have an image to uphold!” “And so do I!” Getting off the couch you walk over to him, stopping him in his tracks. “Stop thinking so negatively Mark and think of the bright side. If you go along, no one will know you babysit..me. And therefore I get to keep my reputation.” “I don’t see how it benefits me.”

“I wasn’t finished!” Huffing he crosses his arms and waits for you to continue. “While you can build your image.” Sending you a look to explain, you huff annoyedly. “C’mon Mark don’t make me spell it out. You’re a…” still not getting it, he tilts his head slightly at you. “Mark you’re a loser.” Groaning he goes to move away from you but you stop him. “But that’s okay! Because it seems like every kid and senior in town likes you!” “Is that suppose to make me feel better?” “Look, it seems like every person our age doesn’t like you but! If you play along, I’ll get everyone to respect you.”

“Why should I care if they respect me or not. You don’t.” “Yeah but that’s because I don’t care, they on the other hand only ever seen this pathetic, sad, lonely, nerdy-“ “Get to the point.” “…side of you. Go along, and I promise you’ll go from being known as the prissy golden boy to the man everyone wants to be. And who knows, you’ll get so popular top companies and businesses will be begging you to join their team.” You notice the gears shifting in his head, hearing out your words and it seems as if he likes what he hears.

“No Im sorry.” Groaning you stomp your foot as you seem to become desperate for his help. “Oh just do it!” “No!” “Why not? Are you really that morally superior to everyone that you can’t even go along with some white lie?” “White lie? Y/n do you know what can happen to me if your parents found out about this so called rumor? Besides I have people I need to consider.”

“Yeah like who?” He goes to answer but closes his mouth at the last second, whoever he was about to say he changed his mind in outing them. Instead he sighs frustratedly and shakes his head. “I’m sorry but I can’t help you, now can you please just tell everyone the truth? Or at least that it’s not true? Please y/n.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you still had a lot in you to argue with him but seeing the tired look on his face you felt almost bad to even think about forcing him into this situation. So with a disgruntle you nod your head. “Alright fine.”

By the next day, the usual qna about your current relations with Mark quickly engulfed you. Your group of friends sitting on a table bench as they gossip about the latest news. As you near them, they are quick to wave their hands at you to come quick. “What’s up?” “Y/n you whore!” They gawk at you with grins on their faces. “I didn’t think you were such a dare devil!” Slightly lost you stand in front of the bench as you watch them all begin to speak over one another with laughs and excitement written all over their faces. “What do you mean?” “Oh please!” You feel Ten who sat closest to you lightly shove you. “Don’t play dumb with us. So how did she react?” “How did who react?” “Maru your biggest enemy duh?”

Now truly you were left utterly confused. You hadn’t heard that name in forever. Maru and you hadn’t really gotten on well given the two of you always fought the title of the most popular girl in school. Just by that, the school always pinned the two of you against each other and while you did try to befriend her. Many bored lowlifes spread false rumors of you trash talking her and she bought it and since then has tried to make your life a living hell. Since you graduated you hadn’t heard from her and even assumed she left the country, you never bothered to keep up with the latest news of her which is why it’s so shocking to you as to how she’s suddenly coming up in conversation again. Your friends could see the look of confusion and it’s when it’s dawned on them that you had in fact not known about the truth.

“Oh hun, do you not know?” “Know about what?”

“About Maru and Mark?” What? When you don’t respond back, they’re about to explain when suddenly there’s a loud shout. “You bitch!” Turning around and seeing the crazed look on none other than your arch nemesis herself, you notice how fast she was making her way over to you. Swinging her hand and goes to slap you, luckily your friends had been quick to intervene. Still frozen in your spot, like a deer caught in headlights you watch as her hysteria was beginning to gain the attention of the other students around campus. “You’re that damn pathetic that the only way to one up me was to sleep with my boyfriend?” Boyfriend? “Relax pimples.” Ten tells her as he forced her back. “That was one time!” She yells at him before turning her attention back to you. “You’re a damn slut! And unless you want the entire world to know that I suggest you stay the hell away from my man!”

Shoving them off her, she brushes herself off and storms off. You couldn’t help but feel humiliated, angered that she came and told you off. To walk off as if she won that argument? To have the whole campus to stare at you with some sort of judgment as if they know you? Who the hell does she think she is?

“Well I guess we’re even then!” This causes her to freeze. “What did you just say?” Scoffing, you shake your head and eye her. “Did you really think I wasn’t aware of you hooking up with Jeno while we were dating? Or how you flung yourself like a needy bitch to Jaemin when we were seeing each other?” Whispers and ooh’s can be heard, face heating up with embarrassment as she didn’t expect for you to have known. “I get it, it’s too hard to compete with me so you settle with my scraps. No need to be ashamed.” Hands in fists, you were sure to almost see some smoke coming out of her ears. “It seems almost fair if I repay you back.” Scoffing she bites the inside of her cheek. “No.”

Digging in her pocket, her hand is in there for some time before she pulls it out. “See that’s where you go wrong because even when you tried to take my man you still failed.” Showing you her hand, your smirk falls to see the shiny diamond ring glimmer on her finger. “Expect an Insta post of our wedding soon.” She grins before walking off. Upon seeing the ring you couldn’t deny you felt your heart drop. Not only was Mark dating someone, your arch nemesis at that but he was getting married? Does she know exactly what your situation with him is? If so then your toast, but as she walks off and your friends come to comfort you, you mute the world around you. You could only think of that damn ring on her finger. She’s engaged to Mark.

The Mark you’ve grown so closed to in the last few months.

The same boy you couldn’t handle being in the same vicinity with and never even once saw as your type.

The same boy you gradually began to grow feelings for. Mark is engaged with Maru, your Mark.

Oh hell no.

Mark was quick to apologize when you told him about your encounter with his fiancée. “I had no idea she’d do such a thing.” “I would’ve had I known…” you grumble. “Did she hurt you?” He asks and gets closer to inspect your face. Feeling yourself getting hot again by the proximity you shake your head and move away from him. “I’m fine, just shocked it’s all. Never pegged you to be the dating kinda guy given how serious you are about your work life. And when she flashed me that large Diamond in my face, wow.” You couldn’t help but feel jealous about the whole ordeal. You tried to not let it be known, but the frown on your face, the wrinkles on your forehead and the serious expression on your face also lets not forget the fact that you refuse to even look him in the eyes was making it impossible to not raise some suspicion.

But at least Mark hadn’t noticed. “Yeah…I tried to keep my private life, private.” Nodding you pursed your lips and take a sip of the freshly made lemonade Mark had prepared. “Look if it makes you feel any better she doesn’t know about…us.” “Us?” You say slightly coughing on the lemonade. “Yeah how I babysit you and all. She just knows I look after ‘some kids’.” Nodding you set down the glass and make your way over to him. “Good, it’d be a bit unfortunate if she saw those pictures of us.” “Pictures?” Humming, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Arms at his sides as he gulps nervously. “It would crush her to see how coupley we look together.” You can hear how he slightly holds his breath when your face leans in. “Especially when we walked out of that bathroom, remember how you looked?” Walking off and leaving him hot and flustered you make your way to your bedroom thinking of the ways you can make that boy yours.

Mark was in fact a guy with high morals. One of them being faithful to his fiancée. Since you heard about the unfortunate news, you’ve been coming onto him a lot more strongly. So much that Mark can’t even be in the same room as you without getting flustered. Face turns red the second he catches sight of you. He has tried to be respectful and put his distance but you seem to always come back. And when he finally sat you down to speak to you formally about the situation he made it clear, that he only had eyes for Maru. And boy did that piss you off.

“You must really love her.” You dare say, teeth gritting and hands digging into the stool cushion underneath you. “I really do, i mean yeah we haven’t been dating for long but I do think there’s chemistry.” “How long have you two been going out?” “Two months.” Oh? If there was one thing you knew about Maru was that much like you, commitment gave her the ultimate ick. And if she were to settle, it’s because she truly has fallen for that boy. To hear they’ve only been together for two months and now engaged? There was a motive and you felt as if you knew exactly what that was. “Mark do you have some sort of trust fund from your parents?” Taken by surprise by the sudden question, “Uh…my grandparents left me all of their fortune to me if that’s what you mean? But I can’t get into it until I’ve gotten married.”

“Uh huh yeah and uh when you proposed…would you per say have been persuaded to propose?” “What do you mean?” Shrugging you stand up from your stool and slowly make your way over to him. “Oh I don’t know, like have you been given hints by your fiancée that she wanted to get married. Probably talked about how soon she’d like to be a young bride, or even…” running a finger up his bicep, goosebumps appear on his skin. Standing just behind him, “was told by Maru herself, that she’d like for you two to get married?” After a moment of silence he speaks up, “Uh yeah, she did. Why? Do you think-“ “Oh no of course not! If you say she loves you and you love her I have no reason to doubt.” You wave him off but you see the concern on his face. “Don’t worry Mark she would never go for your money I mean she is rich herself.” He nods and laughs, “Well yeah that is true.” “Right so relax!” Hearing the loud feet patter coming from upstairs was an indication for Mark to go check up on the young boy. Watching him excuse himself and climb up the stairs, you take out your phone you have managed to sneak out of your parents drawers.

“Guess it’s time to do some digging..”

Mark didn’t expect to spend yet another Friday the exact same way as he did the first week he began working for your family. To have to call the neighbors and see if they can look after your brothers as he busied himself running after you who has run off to some party. Only this time he caught you right outside the lawn of the large house. “Oh good you’re here!” “C’mon let’s go home I left your brothers at-“ Not expecting for you to have grabbed his hand and proceed to drag him inside, he tries to plant his feet on the ground but you were freakishly strong by the way you dragged him. “Y/n-“ “You’re so tensed, have some fun will ya?” “I don’t know if you realize but I’m currently on the job.” Rolling your eyes, you grab a cup and fill it with fruit punch that was in a large clear bowl. “Here it’ll help you relax.” Taking it, he eyes it and looks down at you. “Does this contain alcohol?” “Oh my god, don’t tell me you don’t drink.” You huff, scoffing he shakes his head. “Yes I do.” “Prove it then. Drink.” Looking down at the weird purple vibrant liquid, he looks over to you and noticing more people had gathered to watch him drink. And when he finally does bring it to his mouth and sip, he hears the kitchen immediately erupt in cheers. Feeling hands patting his back and some on his shoulder as they congratulate him for not being such a stuck up.

Wincing at the hard sting at the back of his throat, he’s given no time when suddenly he’s being dragged to play some games. Heard quick to look for you only to see you had been right behind him with a smirk on your face. Before he can object, you pull him down by the neck and whisper in his ear. “Just enjoy it.” But to everyone it seemed like the two of you were getting touchy. “For me?” You bat your eyes at him. With a grunt of disapproval he agrees reluctantly. But soon, it would all become too chaotic for him. Before he’d know it, it would no longer just be any regular ole beer pong but instead comes with dares. Such as body shots. “Body shots?” He asks with furrowed brows. His eyes slowly widening when it dawns on him as soon as women try to undress themselves. “Uh…y/n!” But you had been too busy taking shots of your own. “C’mon man pick which girl you’d like to take body shots with!” One jock shouts through the loud music. Looking around and feeling crowded as they keep coming onto them with seductive looks and breasts purposefully pushed higher for him to see, he backs up until finally he hurriedly gets away from them and takes a hold of you.

In the midst of taking yet another shot of tequila, Mark takes it out of your hands. Groaning, you’re about to scold him and remind him he was meant to be having fun. Never once expecting for him to prop you on the table with him in between your legs. “What is happening?” He sends you a soft smile and a sorry look. “It’s a dare?” Shrugging, you take off your shirt. Ignoring the screams as more phones are brought out and begin to snap pictures of the two of you, others recording. “Then you better make it worth my while.” And soon, a lemon and shot of vodka. He’s focused on licking all the way up from your stomach to your breasts. The feeling of his warm wet tongue had you feeling all funny and tingling. A very familiar feeling that you can’t mistaken it for anything other than hormones. More cheers are heard, words of encouragement as they chanted Mark’s name. Throwing your head back when you feel him lightly rub against you during his attempt at sucking all of the lemon off you. It wasn’t until he pulls away, hair slightly disheveled and eyes boring into yours do you feel the suffocating tension ridden between you two. His arms on either side of you, you didn’t know what came over you.

But you didn’t care, hands quickly cupping his face. You pull him close and kiss him hungrily. You were sure you saw phones flashing even when your eyes were closed. But what you hadn’t expect was for Mark to kiss you back. You weren’t really sure if it was because of the alcohol or if he had truly been kissing you because he wanted to. But a part of you was too horny to care. As soon enough, the two of you had been shoved into the nearest closet. Mouth back against one another, your fingers in his hair. Tugging his head back ever so slightly that caused rumbles to erupt from his throat. Legs wrapped around his waist as he held you up. Moaning when his hands squeezed your ass. But soon Mark pulls away, “m’no y/n this is wrong.” He sighs and rests his forehead against yours. Setting you down, his hands go to your waist. About to move you away from him but you only keep your arms wrapped around his shoulders. “What is it that she has that I don’t?” Shaking his head, “That’s not it-“ “Then what is? Tell me you don’t want me Mark.”

You push him up against the wall. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me the same way I have been thinking about you.” “Y/n please.” Caressing a finger over his cheek, you notice him close his eyes and slightly lean into your touch. “Tell me.” A small whine leaves his mouth when your hand roams down and palms his now tight jeans. A large tent forming in his pants, “Tell me Mark.” He shakes his head, “I can’t...” he breathes out, you press soft kisses to his cheek, holding back a smile when you notice he was leaning further more into your touch. “I’m yours Mark.” Whatever little control Mark had left in him had vanished.

Despite the loud music, your mixed moans and grunts could be heard perfectly clear outside, it didn’t help your case that loud banging sounds can be heard emitting from the very small closet room the two of you were currently in. If anyone was keeping count, and they were. The two of you were in there for hours. At some point they wondered if you’ve fallen asleep. But when the two of you had finally gotten out, a tired looking Mark clinging onto you as you held him on one arm and your heels along with his belt in the other it was obvious what had gone on in there.

Your brothers slept over at the neighbors house for the night. Luckily they had kids they got along with and your parents as busy as they could ever be. Wouldn’t be home for another month. Mark hadn’t gone home that night and instead crashed on the sofa with you. Both too exhausted to go upstairs. And by the time the morning came, Mark would wake up with his arms around you, marks and hickies all over his body, scratches on his back and full blown panic attack at the memory of last nights shenanigans.

Mark didn’t want to remember that night. It was a mistake, he made a mistake. It should have never happened and yet when he woke up the morning after with you in his arms he couldn’t help but feel that pathetic flutters abrupt in his stomach. God he felt pathetic. At first he tried to ignore you, avoid you at all times but it was killing him to stay away from you. And when you made it impossible to get around you, Mark had no choice but to confront the elephant in the room. He was meant to say that last night was a mistake. That he was sorry given the two of you had been drinking and no decision was made with a clear head but as he sat the two of you on the couch, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to your neck where the hickies he left on your skin was still very much prominent. He had lost all train of thought and leaned in to smash his lips on top of yours. “Fuck Mark did I take your virginity?” At the realization, he turns red. “Yeah guess you did.” Feeling bad, you pull from him, “Let me make it up to you.” “Y/n-“ “Shh, just enjoy it.” Boys currently with the neighbors as they were invited for a day to the amusement park, you had the entire house to yourselves.

On your knees, you unbutton his jeans. He helps you pull them down along with his briefs and when you do, he slightly hisses at the cool air hitting his veiny cock. His chest beginning to heave with every heavy breath he takes. And when you take a long lick from the base to his tip he can’t help but throw his head back. It feels pathetic to admit he’s fallen putty for you, but when you continue to take long stripes. Puckering your lips as you kitten lick his tip and look up at him with those bright eyes of yours he felt filthy to think of wanting to add tears to those beautiful eyes of yours. Large hands caressing your face until they get a hold of your hair. For someone so inexperienced it seems as if he knew exactly what to do. His groans get louder when you start to deep throat him, pulling away to spit on his tip only to go back down on him. He felt embarrassed by how close he was already getting. The way his thigh clenched and he bucks up into your mouth. This causes you to bob your head, wanting to take all of him. To gag on him and when you do, you want him to hear how well you’re taking his cock.

“Fuck y/n!” He grunts, holding your hair up as you focus on making come in your mouth. Fondling his balls that only has raising his grunts. “Come for me.” You manage to say for the split second you remove yourself off him. Leaning down to suck his base, jerking him off, his hold on your hair tightens. Pressing kisses to his red mushroom tip, you wrap your lips around him. Continue to jerk while doing so, “Want it in my mouth.” “Shit I’m close!” Mouth agape as he then starts to shoot his load down your throat. Warm thick liquid, salty and you waste no time swallowing. Eyes never leaving his as you clean up his mouth. “Good boy.” You wink at him, loving how pink his cheeks have gotten. “Y/n…”

Pressing a finger up against his lips, you rest yourself on his lap. “Didn’t I tell you to enjoy it?” A soft whimper is heard from him as you begin to discard your clothes. Grabbing his hand and pulling it down to your panties, soiled. “This is all yours.” Softly moaning when you feel start rubbing your clothed pussy. “You want me?” He nods, “Tell me how much you want me.” “So much, I need you y/n.” “Yeah?” He hums. Moving your panties to the side, you press a soft kiss to his lips. “Take me Markie.” Shoving his fingers in you, Mark groans by how tight your walls were wrapped around him. His dick sensitive and with the way you start to grind on him it takes no time to get hard again. Flipping you on your back, he kisses you hungrily. Fingers gaining in speed, thrusting harder into your sopping cunt. He’s enraptured by you, enamored by your beauty, your blissful state and to make you come for him that he fails to realize his phone had been blowing up with text messages and phone calls.

You knew it was only a matter of time before those pictures and videos surfaced all over the web and Maru would see them. Angered that her supposed fiancé had once again been hooking up with you, that you didn’t listen to her threats. She was blowing up his phone to explain himself, as someone who dare says he’s faithful she’d like to know what he has to say for himself. But by his lack of presence to even answer his phone she wondered if he still was with you. Boy was she right.

In a matter of minutes the large house echoed your moans and Mark’s grunts. A mix of skin clapping and the sounds of your essence squelching with every hard thrust. Mark balls deep in you, a leg over his shoulder as he focused his sight on the connection between you two. Pupils filled with lust the more he watched how well your pussy took his cock, how tight your walls kept him inside you. He felt his tip rub up against your gummy walls, to see the small bulge on your abdomen the faster he fucked you. His hair sticking to his forehead as more sweat formed. Unfortunately your state of pure bliss would come to a sudden halt when there’s rough banging at the front door, followed by a very angry voice. “Mark! Get out here right now!”

“Maru?”

Immediately removing himself from you, you groan when you lose his warmth. Watching as he hurriedly dressed himself as the pounding on the door got louder. “Mark Lee!” “How did she know where I was?” He says panicked, sitting up almost boredly. You began to dress yourself albeit a bit more slower than Mark. “She’s psycho, like any maniac they stalk and track. How else did she find you?” You weren’t being sarcastic but to Mark, he liked to think so. In a desperate attempt to make himself look more casual, it was no use. His heavy breaths, flushed face, fluffed hair, marks on his skin and swollen lips all were a clear indication of exactly what Mark didn’t want Maru to know happened. So the second he opened the door and tried to casually greet her, Maru didn’t buy it. Rudely pushing right past him and made her way inside where she’d come in contact with you. Had barely begun putting on your top she had caught sight of all the red and purple bruises her fiancé had left all over you. “You’re dead!” Making her way over to you, Mark is able to grab her before she lays a finger on you. “I KNEW IT!” Her legs thrashed as Mark had her picked up and moved on the other side of the living room.

“Maru please-“ A loud slap resonates throughout the house, “How could you?!” Taking a step forward, Mark extends his arm out to stop you. “I’m sorry.” He answers guiltily and eyes on the ground. “You damn right!” She lets out a fake laugh, “Who would’ve thought I’d find you here at her house. To find out you WORK for her no scratch that, you…babysit her.” She snorts. Eyes turn to lock onto yours, “I warned you…”

The following week was an absolute hell. Maru had in fact kept her word and after learning the truth she made sure everyone heard it as well. The news broke like hell fire, by the end of the night the entire town and others have heard about it. Your parents found out and were furious given it was all their coworkers can talk about. Having to cut the business trip early, and their first words once they had walked through the doors was that Mark was fired.

It broke you, you didn’t want him to leave and even pleaded for them to not be so harsh but they wouldn’t hear it. Your poor brothers didn’t understand what was going on and were just commanded to go to their rooms. Mark didn’t argue nor fight and accepted it. “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.” Since the news about his infidelity, Mark felt utterly dejected. Many gossiped, shocked to hear the golden boy had done such a thing. And although for the most part many still treated him no differently, Mark still felt as if he lost all the respect he worked so hard to gain. To see how quick he was to accept his departure from the family was something you couldn’t handle. Running to catch him just as he’s about to enter his car, begging him to stay. “Y/n i told you this was a mistake.”

“No Mark it’s not-“ “Yes it is. I’m sorry if I made you believe that there could ever be anything between us…” he shakes his head along with a defeated sigh. “But I think it’s best if we go our separate ways. To never contact each other again.” You hadn’t noticed you had begun to tear up, to really think the boy in front of you had you feeling so strongly about him. But when you tried to grab his hand and he pulled away, shaking his head and a small no that leaves his mouth boy did that stab you straight into your chest. “Goodbye y/n.” “Please Mark, why are you going back to her? She doesn’t love you.” “Y/n please don’t do this-“ “Why not?! Mark she’s using you for your inheritance money!” Something in him snapped, ice cold eyes stare you down as his frown turns to a scowl. “How can you accuse her of such thing after what we did to her? To stoop so low?” He eyes you, no longer understanding the girl he’d grown so close to over the last few months. “Mark-“ “I’m trying to save my relationship with her, if you cared about me so much you’d allowed me to be happy.” And with that he gets inside his car and drive off.

Your college didn’t waste time to make your drama the latest news, it was even worse when word got out that Mark had dropped out of school. You noticed the stares and the whispers. Those who were bold enough to mention how you were babysat by the ‘golden loser’ as they liked to say but were quickly silent when you cursed them out. Your friends had stayed by your side though, and even took the liberty to throw anything nearest to them to anyone who even dared glance your way. “I cant believe she really outed you like that,” Ten scoffs. “You’re not gonna let her get away with this right?” You managed to shrug in response, have lost much needed sleep. “You better y/n, we all know Mark isn’t her type. She’s definitely using him for his money.” Another friend of yours says. “Exactly I heard her on the phone one time, admitted the whole thing.”

“What?”

“Yup, wish I got that on tape-“ “That’s it.” Your friend send each other looks. “I know what to do.” “Really?” “I’ll need your help though.” With chesire smiles and sly grins they lean in to hear what you had to say. “We’re all ears.”

Mark had managed to land a job with one of the country’s most top companies. Since the scandal, Mark had succumbed to his parents help and got the job through them. And now, as part of the company’s committee, with his own office and personal assistants whatever free time he once had was gone. This meant no more hobbies, no more charity events and no more school. Maru has been keeping him on a tight leash, calls and texts tens of times each hour and expects for him to answer each and every one of them. Regularly visits him during his lunch breaks and expects him home no longer after thirty minutes of him clocking out. Mark had finally succumbed to a life of every sad average middle aged man who has ever lived. A confined life. But he tries to make amends with it, he reminds himself of what he did and it was only fair if he wanted his relationship and future marriage to work. But as the weeks goes on, it soon turns into months and his energy battery was heavily drained.

Stress levels at an all time high, he’s never drank so many cups of coffee and popped so many energy pills. A deadline was nearing and he was running behind on reviewing some paper work. He had been stuck in his office for hours without break, he’s sure to fall apart any second. “Sir, you have someone for you.” He hears his assistant say over the speaker phone. “Please tell my girlfriend I’m busy.” After a few moments, they were knocking on the door. With a soft sigh, Mark sets his paperwork on the table and goes to stand when the door opens. Shocked to see it was in fact not his girlfriend. “Y/n?” Closing the door behind you, he doesn’t hear the sound of a click. “What are you doing here? How did you-“ “Relax, I came to stop by it’s all.” Clearing his throat, Mark fixes his tie and sits. Motioning his hand for you to do the same. “Well say what you need to say I have a lot of work-“ “My brothers miss you.” He frowns sadly.

Hearing ruffling, he looks over to see you taking something out of your purse. “They told me to give you these.” There in hand were nothing but tons of drawings all of which included him in their family portraits. “They keep wondering when you’ll be back. Iseul misses his favorite coach.” Mark looks thoroughly through all the drawings, almost forgetting where he was currently at and with who. “Yeah well…we all gotta move on.” He clears his throat again and sets the pictures aside. Going to pick up his paperwork again, he stops when he feels you rest your hand on top of his. “What if I don’t wanna move on.” “Y/n…”

A loud screech from the chair is heard when you abruptly stand. Walking around his desk only to stand directly in front of him. “Don’t tell me you’ve moved on from me.” You turn his chair to face you. “I’m engaged.” “So.” “So?” Eyes slightly widening when you proceed to sit on his lap. “That shouldn’t stop you from figuring out who you really wanna be with.” “And you know who I want to be with?” “My birthday was last week.” “Happy belated birthday…” chuckling, you proceed to run your hand through his hair. “Mark, did you really think I wouldn’t figure out it was you who sent me that dress?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“The black dress. You sent me it as a birthday gift after you failed to get the stain out of my old one.” Shaking his head, he tries his hardest to avoid eyes with you. But you can see how flushed he’s getting. “C’mon baby..” you press a soft chaste kiss to his cheek. “I can make you the happiest man. Don’t tell me you enjoy working here.” He shrugs, “It’s not too bad.” “Then explain the eye bags.” Stopping your hand from touching his bags, he sighs. Before he can speak, his phone is being bombarded with text messages again. All of which were from Maru demanding his whereabouts. “Really? You enjoy being in a relationship with her?” “Look if you’re only here to change my mind then it’s not going to work-“. Mark goes to stand, to get you off his lap but you stop him. Holding his face in your hands as you murmur into his ear. “I’m not here to change your mind.” Another light kiss is pressed on his neck that sent the little hairs on his neck to stand. “I’m here to remind you how well we are for each other.” With no time to respond you press your lips up against his. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you. He missed seeing you, to spend his time with you even when you stressed him out. It was always an adventure with you, so to have you in front of him and kissing him. He admits he’s a coward to not being able to follow through with his promises, how can he push you away when you’re exactly what he needs after days of relentless stress?

He hadn’t noticed he was kissing you roughly, passionately. Leaning further and further into your lips until he has you laying flat out on his desk. His hands busying themselves and unbuttoning your oversized shirt that he hadn’t realize was his that he left back at your house. Butterfly kisses down to your abdomen until he comes face to face with your jeans that he wastes no time ripping them off. Spreading your legs apart and seeing you were wearing a pair of red lacy panties that left little to the imagination. “Want your tongue Markie.” Mark’s lustful stare wasted no time in ripping them off you and leaning right in.

The marble floors resonate the sounds of the hard clicking of heels. The man at the reception goes unheard as Maru heads her way over to the elevator. She had visited many times before, and she knows exactly where her fiancé resides at. He knew better to answer her and yet he still had the audacity to disobey her orders. With every floor the elevator gets, a chime goes off. Maru waits impatiently, foot tapping as she stares for it to reach the highest floor. On the other end, Mark’s office begins to get louder with every lick you receive from him. Large hands grip your legs apart as he focuses on getting his full. Sucking your nub and licking figure eights on your cunt. Tongue prodding your hole and even rubs your clit with his fingers. He loves how loud you were getting for him. How your chest rose with every deep breath and tits perky and practically begging for him to fuck. Your grip on the desk hadn’t seized and your head had been thrown back and eyes shut as you relished in the pleasure he was bringing you. “Fuck Mark, feels so good!” You run a hand through his hair, grip tightening while he makes no intent to detach himself from you.

Maru had finally managed to make it to the top floor. Her heels clicking was familiar to everyone on the floor, immediately understanding who had arrived. “My fiancé.” Maru plainly tells his secretary. Her intense stare was enough for the poor secretary to silently nod and call for him.

“Mr. Lee your fiancée is here to see you.”

“Shit!” Mark swears as he pulls away from you. Grunting at yet another interruption from her, you sit up and hold him still. “Relax, not a word about my presence. Get rid of her quickly.” “Huh?” Pulling the two of you down, he sits on his chair while you hid underneath his desk. And in the very moment the door to his office is opened abruptly. “Oh Maru!” He squeaks. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” “I’m sorry, I’m just so caught up with work.” “Uh huh…” she inspects the room for any signs of you. “Was there something important that you needed from me?” She shakes her head, “When are you coming home.” “Just as soon as I file these. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour-OW, two! Two hours.” Maru furrows her brows at him, “Are you okay? You’re acting odd.” “Haha no just stubbed my toe.”

Under the table where Maru fails to see you had begun to undo his pants. Down to his thighs and enough to free his cock. Red angry tip that you waste no time shoving in your mouth. “Mark-“ suddenly getting a call, Maru checks her phone. Her facial expression changes at the contact and sends Mark one last look. “Alright I’ll see you back home in a few hours.” She says before walking out and speaks to whoever had been calling her. Mark lets out a sigh of relief as he looks down at you. “Are you trying to be the death of me?” You merely send him a wink before you go back to focusing on sucking him off. The memory of his fiancée immediately washing away from Mark’s mind as his focus is now entirely on you.

It reeked of sex, music played softly in the background as the curtains darkened the room. Lit candles and rose petals everywhere made it all the more romantic. Much to Mark’s whole claim about being faithful and what not, it didn’t take much for you to break his walls. Every night since visiting his office the two of you have been sneaking around behind everyone’s backs. Going on secret dates where like now, it ends with the two of you fucking each other’s brains out. Sexting became a norm and ditching friends and family occurred a lot more often. Now where you currently lie, in the arms of the man you love with bed hair and a tired look on his face, you massage his scalp. Slowly lulling him to sleep but he tried to stay up despite how relax you made him feel. Snuggling in between your breasts merely responding to you with a hum. “Mark?” He hums once more, “Did you hear me?”

Pulling away, Mark whines and tugs you closer to him. The bed automatically felt cold without your warmth, not only that but you were currently cock warming him and he didn’t want you going anywhere anytime soon. One move and he worries he’ll get hard again and after hours of fucking yourselves stupid he knows he’s not strong enough to go again. “Your wedding is tomorrow.” You state, there’s a silence before you hear a small sad sigh. Mark had known the time was ticking before he’s officially become Maru’s spouse. At this very moment he’s supposed to be at his rehearsal dinner, he was in fact there for a bit. But after seeing his friends and family come up to him, congratulating him for finally about to tie the knot. To see her family tell him he better treat her right, and when they’ll have their first child blah blah blah. He knew he needed to get the hell out of there for fresh air, heart thumping and head pounding and the only thought in his mind was you. So without any doubt, he phoned you and with a simple, ‘I need you’ you were there.

Now in your bedroom, rest of the family out for dinner while you were given no other choice but to stay given you’re still grounded. You chose to entertain yourself with your lover in bed. At least that’s what he is to you. Unlike Mark - who has been trying to ignore the fact that he’s getting married. That’s all you could think about, you can’t see yourself without him. You can barely stand not seeing him for over eight hours. Can you honestly say you can see Mark marry someone else, your enemy at that and be okay with that? Absolutely not. “I said leave her.” Now this broke him out of his tired state, head lifted from your boobs he stares into your eyes. “What?” “You heard me Mark.” There’s a moment of silence, and when you see him make the same look that says he’s about to disagree you cut him off.

“You don’t love her Mark.” “I know but-“ “But what?!” You were starting to get irritated, how can he possibly still want to marry her? There’s nothing she can offer him, nothing in her he truly fell in love with. Not in the way he fell for you. He’s never said it out loud, but you don’t need him to. On the days you visit him at your office he treats you more like his partner than he does when Maru visits. And word around the lobby, Mark seems a lot less stress when you’re around but then again they don’t know what goes on his office when you visit but they have speculations. “You love me Mark, not her.” Shifting to sit on his lap, like magnets his hands move to your hips to steady you. Your acrylic nails placed at his scratched up chest as a low grunt rolls off his tongue when you lower yourself on his now hardening cock. “I’m the one that makes you feel good..” leaning to press sweet kisses on his chest. Trailing their way up to his neck, “I’m the one that listens to your problems…” you can hear him take a large gulp, Adam’s apple prominent when he does so. “The one who I prioritize…” and lastly a deep passionate kiss to his swollen lips. Pulling him and slightly smirking when you notice he chased after your lips for more. “I love you for you…not like her who only sees you as a pawn in her game.”

With scrunched brows, he looks at you. “What do you mean?” Sighing, you get off him. He groans at the sensitivity and when had gotten off the bed he took it as opportunity to prop himself up against the bed frame. He watched as you walked over to your desk, pulling the drawer and out you grabbed a folder, setting it on his lap. “My friends caught sight of her not too long ago.” He opens in and he couldn’t believe what he saw. “Brandon Young, She’s been secretly dating him for about three years. Ring any bells?” It sure did, Brandon Young twenty five and just recently promoted to his department. Currently working on his floor and is secretary to one of Mark’s business partners. “Brandon?” “Flip the page.” He does.

There were more pictures. Of Mark leaving his shared apartment with Maru and some of an unknown car pulling in only five minutes after his departure. Out comes the very man and on the last few photos were of Maru getting out of the apartment and greeting him with a heated make out session. A voice interrupts Mark’s shock, looking up and seeing you had your phone in hand. It was Maru’s voice, she sounded as if she was speaking to someone.

‘Patience babe, I told you soon as I get his inheritance money the both of us will go on our promised vacation to Spain. Trust me, he’s too dumb and naive to suspect anything, he hasn’t even noticed we’ve been having sex under the same roof as him.’ A giggle is heard, ‘Still can’t believe he thought I was actually in the bathroom for 45 minutes doing my makeup. Thank god his boss was talking his ear off for him to even notice you sneaking in the bathroom after me.’ The recording ends.

Mark was quiet, stuck in his thoughts and although you couldn’t read his mind his face said it all. He felt betrayed and played like a fool. To think he felt so shitty to be doing this to her when all along she’s done it to him way before he’s ever worked for your family. And worse, using him for his money. He felt your hands cup his face, turning his head to look at you. “We can be together Mark, it’s not too late. We can live a perfect life together one where we’ll be happy forever. We’ll move away, far away from here and get married. Start a family and love each other endlessly, don’t you want that?” He stares deep into your eyes, he doesn’t say anything. And before you can add on to that, he leans in and catches you by surprise. Grabbing and tossing you onto the bed, hovering above you. “I want it baby.” He tells you after he detaches himself from your lips. Previously he only wanted to stay engaged with Maru for the lack of loyalty he had for her. He hoped that by marrying her, it’d make him less guilty of what he’d done. But he doesn’t feel that anymore, not when he knows there’s no reason to hold back from loving you freely.

“Lets run away together.” He mumbles, forehead rests on top of yours. “Just you and me, forget about everyone.” You to try hold back the grin, giddy to know you finally had him. In love and just as equally obsessed with you. “Tonight, let’s go tonight.” He whispers in your ear as he leaves kisses all over your marked skin. You agree, humming pleasantly when he nips at your sweet spot. “Tonight.” You feel his hands begin to roam all over your skin until they find your perky tits. “Horny again?” You tease, “Can’t help it you’re irresistible.” He murmurs, “I’m not complaining.” You press a peck on his nose. Pressing one last kiss on your lips before he turns you around, pressing your face on your pillow. Moaning you begin to feel his tip rub up against your clit.

One more quick fuck wouldn’t hurt before running off together.

Heels tapped angrily on the marble floor. A stressed out bride pacing back and forth as her bridesmaids try to settle her nerves. “He won’t pick up!” She yells, her mother going to rest her hands on her shoulder only to get brushed off coldly. “He was no where to be seen last night! I swear if he has off with that tramp!” “Nonsense Maru!” Her maid of honor shushes her up, fixing her hair and checking her makeup. “You made it clear you didn’t want him near her and he hasn’t broken that promise. I’m sure he had something come up don’t worry.” Taking a deep breath, she nods. Forcing on a plastic smile, “You’re right…you’re right, he would never do something such as leave me at the alter. That’s definitely not something Mark would do.”

Outside, chairs all facing the alter. Officiant checking his watch for the umpteenth time as guests are slowly becoming bored. The heat didn’t make anything better and now they along with the servants had to endure wearing a very expensive attire that’s now getting covered in their sweat. From behind them, they fail to notice the approaching figure until they walked right by them. In a basket, out they tossed what anyone would assume to be flower petals but this wasn’t the case. Instead, copies of the very same photos Mark saw were being tossed on the floor. Some flew over guest’s head, with widened eyes and shocked gasps they pick up the photos of the bride very clearly cheating on the groom with as at this point everyone knew to be one of the best men.

Dates at the corner to show just how far back the cheating had been going on for. In the black dress Mark bought for your birthday, you made your way to the stage. Taking the mic away from the officiant and turning to face the crowd, tapping on the mic as the noise resonated off the speakers. Clearing your throat, you smiled at the crowd. “Evening ladies and gentlemen. Today, I come baring bad news.” From inside, your voice is loud enough to catch the attention of everyone including the bride herself.

“The groom couldn’t make it as he is currently on his way to the airport.” The crowd erupts in gasps, all whispering amongst themselves. “As devastated any one would be in his situation, he chose to go on with his life and has decided to walk a different path. One where he won’t get married to a cheating, manipulative gold digger like Maru Kim.” Running out of the building, both groomsmen and bridesmaids right behind her. A look of horror is set on her face, “You’re lying!” She shouts immediately gaining the attention of the crowd. Gasping when she catches sight of them holding the pictures of her and Brandon. Turning over and seeing he turned his head to avoid confrontation. Clearly embarrassed by all the judgmental looks he was getting.

“That doesn’t prove anything! So what if we dated? That was long ago and we’re not dating anymore and I’ll be damned if I let some skank like you ruin my wedding!” Shrugging, you nod. “You’re right…the pictures aren’t enough proof. So shall we see some more?” Turning around, you move off to the side. A large projector screen which was meant to show pictures of the then husband and wife’s most ‘happiest’ memories. But as it turns on, it shows quite the contrary. On camera reveals Maru and Brandon on dates together, some where they kiss and others where they cuddle. Then it pans to a moment in which Mark calls her, ‘No yeah I’ll be home soon don’t worry.’ She speaks to him while Brandon busied himself in kissing her neck. A grin on her face and tries to push him away only to get pulled back in.

And lastly, the audio Mark heard. Everyone’s baffled and utterly disgusted. Turning to stare at the bride with a look of judgment. Some beginning to whisper not so lowly about how vile she is. Maru stood in her spot absolutely humiliated, no way can she prove her innocence now. And as she turns to look at Brandon, she knows he wouldn’t say nor do anything to back her up. Turning to her bridesmaids and seeing them only raise their brows at her, all silently criticizing her. Eyes on her mother whom can barely stare at her by how disappointed she is. “Can’t believe she used him for his money.” A voice says loud enough for everyone to hear. Holding up a white paper with writing on it, in bold letters does it say bankruptcy. “Unfortunately mommy and daddy got too cocky with their money and had lost it all isn’t that right?” More gasps, embarrassed her parents look away. “And you thought the only way Maru Kim can stay living the life of luxury is by drying Mark out of his. Brandon over here had been disowned by his own parents and therefore kicked from the family’s wealth. So the two of you decided to take advantage of the poor guy who simply just wanted to achieve his dreams. How sad.” Mark’s parents had been there, angered by this they stand to face her. “How could you!” Mark’s mother yelled. “Don’t yell at my daughter!” Maru’s father responds. “Don’t you raise your voice at my wife!” And like a chain reaction, the entire place erupts in shouts. And it isn’t until you speak into the microphone again do they stop.

“Congratulations Maru for managing to stay engaged up until the wedding day, it’s unfortunate the groom couldn’t attend due to obvious reasons but! Rest assured, he’ll be doing much better from here on out.” The ends of your mouth curl upward, tears boiling to the rim she shouts,

“You’re lying! Guys she’s lying!” But no one was convinced at that. “You just can’t accept the fact that I have something you can’t have, you’re just jealous you can’t be me.” She huffs.

“See that’s where you go wrong, because no matter what you do or…who you do. I’ll always have what’s rightfully mine.” From behind your back, you finally reveal what was wrapped around your finger. Large, white and bright. Definitely a lot more expensive than the one she has and a lot more pleasing to the eyes. The color drains from her face, and soon the others began to piece together how exactly you fit into this whole situation. But that wasn’t the most shocking of it all.

Because not only was it a surprise for everyone at the reception to know Mark is running away. That he’s running away with a new fiancée at his side, the very woman they heard he had a thing with a while back. But to also see that alongside the diamond ring wrapped neatly on your finger, there on your thumb and index fingers held up none other than what’s made out to be a sonogram. A picture of an 18 week old fetus that proved you were currently with Mark’s child. Traced back to the very first time the both of you had sex at the party.

“I guess in the end, you were the one who really failed. Isn’t that right Maru?” Stepping down the stage, you make your way down the walk way. Just about to leave you stand beside the now mascara stained bride, eyes still filled with anger and fists at her sides. Bouquet of flowers now terribly crumbled.

“Expect an Insta post of our wedding soon.”

1K notes · View notes

keluang-hijau · 11 months ago

Text

UPDATE: Because aid is being blocked from entering Gaza, grassroots and on-the-ground initiatives should be the focus now, as well as fundraisers for families!

If you have even a dollar to spare to help Palestine, you should definitely send it to people working on the ground to provide aid:

Sameer Project: instagram, fundraisers Life for Gaza: site. this has multiple currency options. ($182,960 USD still needed. 38 days left!) Help Gaza Children: updates site (The fundraiser is down as of November 2024!) Mona's initiative to provide direct aid in Gaza. Care for Gaza: twitter, pypl, gfm. Sulala Animal Rescue: instagram, fundraiser with free drawings, pypl for direct donation or donate through Animals Australia (here is the tumblr post I referenced). Salam Animal Care: twitter, pypl, gfm.

sponsor a family from Operation Olive Branch spreadsheet (there is also a tab for mutual aid), Gazafunds, Vetted Fundraiser List, GazaVetters list. send esims so people in Gaza can stay connected and document and preserve their story.

Organizations, some may have their operations paused and aid not being delivered so do check it first:

Anera. PCRF (their Ramadan 2024 campaign has 68% raised as of November 2024). UNRWA. and more listed here.

If you live comfortably without any substantial risk financially, then it becomes your responsibility to contribute more. Please don't hesitate to donate. You do not lose wealth when you give to people who need it. That 10 dollars or 5 dollars or 1 dollar is worth so so much if it is the only thing you can give.

The daily clicks is meant for people who do not have any way to financially help Palestine. If you cannot send money for any reason at all, please go ahead and do those daily clicks. Use multiple devices, different browsers, incognito/ private mode. So you can contribute more clicks in a day. Set reminders so you can be consistent. Even if it is small, if everyone contributing does the same effort, it will be more helpful than nothing at all.

And do not let daily clicks and donations be the end all of your support for Palestine. There are so many ways to engage and get involved, and this post is a non-exhaustive list. Boycott products and keep up with the BDS movement, join protests and direct action, pressure your representatives by calls/ emails /letters, listen and amplify Palestinian voices (follow social media accounts of journalists, doctors, scholars, people in Gaza and diaspora), learn and familiarize about Palestine and disinformation (free ebooks), make art, appreciate Palestinian culture and art (tatreez, kufiya, films / another film site, books, poetry, businesses), talk and discuss with your close ones and community, don't interact with Israel supporters / Zionist ideology, and stay hopeful. Every effort within your power that you choose to do is important.

#palestine #gaza #free palestine #gaza strip #free gaza #israel #how to help palestine #palestine will be free #help gaza children #operation olive branch #anera #pcrf #unrwa #care for gaza #sulala animal rescue #resources #sameer project

300 notes · View notes

24kmar · 8 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 (T. DUNCAN, A. DONALDSON, P. ZWEIG)

𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

Apart of my fic "born stunna" and p2 to my fic "why you do the things you do"

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Art Donaldson x fem! Reader, patrick zweig x fem! Reader, tashi duncan x fem! Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ MDNI,smut (edging, choking, bondage, being called a brat), angst, language, age gap (early 30's tashi, pat, and art early 20's reader) manipulative reader (wolf in sheeps clothing), sugar! Baby reader!, cheating, comfort sex with patrick and reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: y/n goes home after hanging out with patrick, to which tashi and art scold her. What happens when patrick decides he cant get enough and goes to her match the next day. Arising conflict. Enjoy!! 🎀🩷

THANK YOUU TO MY GIRL @doll-0f-flesh FOR HELPING ME OUT IMMENSELY

Y/n learned from a very young age that she could get whatever she wanted. Growing up the golden girl with daddies money. All she need to do was flash her million dollar smile and she was in. That didnt mean she didnt work hard. No, she worked harder. Why use a minimum of your abilites to get something when you can get anything.

She was smart, ambitious, power hungry, always wanting more. She was good at using things to her advantage. A rich scholar and outstanding tennis player. Tennis was almost everything. Playing since 13, getting a scholarship to stanford at 17, going pro by 19, getting signed to NIKE a year later, and being coached by one of the best tennis players by 21.

Tashi and art have been coaching her for 2 years. Her now being 23. The word failure wasnt in her dictionary. It wasnt win or lose, just win. And tashi loved that. Tashi also loved her. And so did art. They both found themselves falling in love with her 3 months into coaching. To which they decided to go on a limb and make her theirs.

"Where the fuck were you" tashi spits out, walking towards y/n as she puts her keys on the counter.

"Taking a drive, i told you this before i left." Y/n rolls her eyes. "Dont roll your fucking eyes at me." Tashi says putting her finger in y/n's face. "When you said 'drive'" tashi airquotes "i didnt think you meant come home two fucking hours later! You have a fucking match tomorrow y/n!" tashi yells

Turning her head, y/n see's art leaning against the doorway, arms crossed with a dissapointed look on his face.

"Were you with patrick?" Art speaks up, walking towards her. Now its tashi and art infront of her. By the she gives him, the answers clear. "You fuck him?" He asks, walking behind her. Moving her hair out of the way and placing slow kisses on her neck. He already knew she did. He just asked to mess with her. "Course you did" tashi scoffs, gripping y/n's jaw.

"You know whats gonna happen now right?" Tashi asks, recieving a nod from y/n.

"Tashi please" y/n pleads, arms tied above her head. Tashi's strap hitting all the right places.

"Why'd you fuck him huh?" Tashi ask gripping her neck, though not enough to restrict any airflow. To be met with incoherent mumbles. Squeezing harder she asks again "fucking answer me" she gritts out, using her other hand to slap y/n's cheek. Not hard, just a tap.

"Mmm, cus y'were being mean" y/n babbles "bein too hard on me with tennis." She moans, getting closer to her climax.

"so you're telling me you did this cause you were being a whiny brat?" Tashi scoffs, pulling out. Ruining her orgasm for the second time tonight.

Letting out a pitiful whine y/n begs "tashi please, i just wanna cum" tears starting to brim. Turning her head to try another tactic. Locking eyes with art as he sits in a chair in the corner of the room. "Art" she whines, hoping he'll help tashi go easy on her.

"Nuh uh brat, hes not gonna help you" tashi spits, lining up her fake cock with y/ns entrance, slaming into her. Standing up, art walks over to the bed. Sitting behind y/n, pulling her to rest her back against his chest. Trying to lessen the blow, kissing her neck, fingers groping her front softly. The softness of his touch contrasting with the roughness of tashis.

It was gonna be a long night.

𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝒀

Stepping out of the car, y/ns nerves are all over the place. She knows she cant lose. If she did, they would blame it on patrick and what happend yesterday. She would never hear the end of it.

Now here she is, stepping out of the locker room. Stretching and getting ready for the match to start. She doesnt see art or tash. But she knows they see her. She feels a weird presence. Like someones watching her. Turning to look behind her she sees...oh shit. Patrick.

Locking eyes with her he send i small wave and smile. Why the fuck was he here? Did he want tashi and art to kill him?

She couldnt let him throw her off her game. Not win or lose, just win.

The match is almost over, y/n dominating the court. Walking her opponent like a dog.

"oh fuck no" tashi scoffs

"What? What happened?" Art asks, worried something happened with you.

"Patricks here" tashi shakes her head in disbelief "the fucking nerve on him".

Watching him get up to go to the bar, they stand up to follow. If he thought he was just gonna get away with this, he was sorely mistaken.

"Patrick" art calls out, him and tashi walking towards pat. "Why the fuck are you here" tashi narrows her eyes.

"Woah guys, dont get your panties in a twist" patrick chuckles "just here to support my girl" he smiles.

Oh no the fuck he didnt.

"you mean OUR girl" tashi spits "what on gods green fucking earth made you think you could go for her. None the less, come here."

"we already told you yesterday, dont ever try coming for her again. Are you trying to get us mad?" Art says

"Dont-" patrick begins, getting cut off by y/n

"Where the fuck have you guys been" y/n speaks, her words laced with venom "you missed my whole fucking game"

"We're handling something" tashi dismisses her

"Handling something, or being petty"

"Dont act like you didnt start this" tashi turns to y/n

"If i upset you then talk to me about it, dont scold me like a fucking child and pick a fight with patrick"

"Guys-" art tries to calm them down

"If you didnt act like one i wouldnt have to" tashi retorts

"you know what, fuck this." Y/n scoffs, reaching into her tennis bag "i hope you're happy to hear that i fucking won" she says, shoving her medal into tashis hands. "Dont even bother taking me home, im calling an uber" y/n turns around and walks away.

Tashi and art felt like shit. The whole car ride home being completely silent. Tashi staring at the medal and art driving, thoughts swarming his head. When they got home, y/n was no where to be found. Her keys and car gone , everything else still there.

They called out her name, looking everywhere. They didnt think the fight couldve had affected her to the point where she just went MIA. Calling and texting her countless times. Only to be met with the call going straight to voicemail. Meaning one of two things, they were blocked or her phone was on airplane mode. Both bad scenarios since it meant she didnt want anything to do with them.

The only one who knew where she was, was patrick. She didnt go far, just to some hotel. He was the only person she answered the phone to. She knew he wasnt the one who started it, since he explained what happend. Now here she was, crying into the bed as he rubbed her back soothingly.

He had never seen her cry, unless it was tears of pleasure or joy. Tears of pleasure when he made her feel good. And tears of joy when she won. It broke his heart.

Making her sit up, he cupped her face and spoke "what you thinking about pretty girl" he said softly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Dont wanna talk about it" she sighs "can you just...hold me?" Without skipping a beat he pulled her into a hug and sooths her. This had been the most intimate moment theyve had.

"Just wanna forget" she sniffled

Moving to kiss her neck, he whispers "can i help you forget?"

Sighing, she nodded. She needed this, and he needed her to know that he was always there. Whether art and tashi wanted him to be or not.

When tashi said patrick had no dreams she was wrong, soso wrong. Because he did have a dream. And it was y/n. She was all he wanted, all he needed.

She was arts star, tashis winner, and patricks dream.

His dream, his fantasy, his happily ever after.

#Spotify #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #tashi donaldson smut #tashi donaldson #tashi donaldson x reader #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan smut #tashi duncan #challengers x reader #challengers smut #challengers movie #🪞𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 🎀#💭𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬💭

371 notes · View notes

bluemoonsunrise · 2 months ago

Text

Demons and Savages

pairing: tsu’tey and human!avatar driver (fem presenting)

content warnings: graphic language, violence, alien vs human differences, unconventional grief, the RDA sucks, enemies to lovers. (also, i don’t like to capitalize sentences on tumbler :3)

word count: …idk :P

pov: 2nd person so you can add yourself in. for writing/plot purposes, your character is named eris ramsey. i’ll use the name sparingly but i can’t take myself seriously writing y/n— so please just work with me here. i promise it’ll be worth it. (i hope)

———🌌———

SUMMARY: earth was dying and your sister was, too, but cancer killed her faster than humans were killing earth. when she passed, she not only left behind an empty apartment full of memories but a billion dollar avatar without a driver. in a desperate attempt to not waste that money, the program she had spent the last five years preparing to join recruited you— her twin. of course, you agreed. there was nothing left on earth for you. there was nothing left on earth for anyone— that’s why people like your sister were sent off to pandora.

when your sister had spoken of pandora, it seemed like a dream.

the RDA promised it would be like a safari adventure.

truth was that pandora is beautiful. beautiful and unlike anything else across the whole of the universe. it is breathtaking— and that’s because what chases you through the forest hunts with the intent to kill; so you best run like hell even if your lungs are on fire. beasts and monsters of all kinds lurk out of sight waiting for the right moment to kill you dead— but none are as dangerous as him.

the blue shadow with the bow.

chapter one

— assholes and arrows —

it was hard to imagine that you were 4.37 light years away from earth.

what the hell even was 4.37 light years? obviously, you knew you couldn’t throw a rock and hit earth, but it was still mind boggling that it took long enough that they had frozen you whole so that you wouldn’t die in the amount of time it took you to get to where you were going. had your sister known just how far away she would’ve been had it been her in that cryo-capsule?

of course, she did.

she was the scientist who knew how far a light year was.

she was the scientist that had devoted the last years of her life to the avatar program without knowing it.

god was cruel— but people were even crueler.

at your sisters funeral, you had not expected two men-in-black characters to approach you. you had expected to leave the service with your sisters ashes in an urn but not that and a brochure of pandora and the program on it.

the program that now needed you to pick up where she left off.

were you supposed to say no? it was too late for that now. you were 4.37 light years from home. the only thing you could do was get off the aircraft and try your best to be even a teaspoon as smart as your sister.

as soon as you stepped out of the aircraft, you were a fish out of water. soldiers in massive metal suits walked the runways carrying giant guns. AMP suits, as they were called. machines the size of buildings were shot with arrows and needed repairs. the RDA extraction facility — lovingly nicknamed hell’s gate — was brutalist. the massive colony was an eyesore, churning out dark gray smoke into the pretty blue sky.

surely, the men in charge would happily rot this place into nothing, too.

it took three days to figure out your way around. around the colony. around the avatar labs. around the social hierarchy that the people living here had factioned themselves into.

it took three days to feel comfortable. to feel comfortable in your link-pod. in your avatar body. in your crew consisting of one grumpy, cigarette-dependent scientist, a goody-two shoes scholar, and an paralyzed man with a big mouth.

once grace augustine stopped bitching about how she got stuck with two dead scientist’s twins, things started to seem alright— because if there was any relief in hell’s gate, it was jake sully.

jake was the universes way of apologizing to you for all the shit you had to go through to get where you were. native language exposure, protocol training, avatar study, and a program explanation all in one month before they stuck you in a box and express shipped you to the blue moon.

it had wrecked your brain. all the studying and the work and the cramming wrecked your brain entirely. you felt like mush after they had unfroze you because you felt like mush when they had frozen you.

at least you got training, though. poor jake was picked up a week before the ship left.

the only training jake had was military. he was a marine. despite being wheelchair bound now, you his tactical skill was of value when in his avatar. he was the happiest out of the whole crew to have been gifted one of those big blue bodies. his legs worked again.

jake opened up briefly about how he got injured during his deployment years back and hadn’t done much since. in his avatar, jake could never stay still. in his real body, it was still hard to keep still. while jake could do poppa-wheelies and drift around hallway corners in his wheelchair, fire a gun with alarming accuracy, and had the mental fortitude of a nuclear war bunker— he was going into this thing virtually blind and deaf.

because poor jake had lost his twin, too.

tommy had been shot.

bang.

gone just like that. days before his big trip, too. wrong place at the wrong time is what jake had said. all tommy’s life’s work was gone just as fast as your sisters was— even though cancer killed her slowly.

in the end, it didn’t matter.

all it takes is one second to die.

all it takes is one second to make the biggest damn mistake of your life and almost get eaten alive by a leathery, nightmare-inducing, panther-looking thing on your first ground excursion.

grace had prepared you for taking samples. she taught you how to use the log device and the tablets. she went over how to input data and file in her research. what she hadn’t prepared you for was the off chance that a monster larger than a car leapt out from the bushes and chose you as it’s afternoon snack.

and that off chance chose you today like god had chosen mary.

“oh shit! oh fuck!” you gasped as you ran as fast as your feet could carry you.

it was not very fast.

avatar bodies were a work of scientific genius— but no one cared to think about how much training the body would need to be able to perform well.

a shrieking roar told you that the monster was still behind you.

that and it’s thundering paws hitting the ground as it chased after you.

this was karma.

it was karma for enjoying animal planet reruns on the shit-box tv in your apartment. you would sit on your couch with a bowl of over-done popcorn drenched in salty butter in your lap while you watched lions chase gazelles.

at least the gazelles were fast.

why the fuck weren’t you fast!

your throat burned alongside your lungs. you couldn’t breathe. your vision tunneled. your legs ached. you could hear your heart in your ears. sweat poured out of you like bullets.

“run!” grace had shouted.

jake had unloaded a whole clip firing at the panther-like beast— but the damn thing had dodged and ducked behind trees.

that’s why it chased you.

because it had seen you cowering behind a tree.

one stupid mistake.

one stupid second.

claws swiped at your backpack and it sent you toppling over. teeth dug into the pack and with one violent shake, you flew up into the air.

you hit the ground hard. all the air gasped out of you. your ears rang. but you had time. the beast tore your pack to shred and you didn’t stick around to see it realize that backpack à la carte wasn’t tasty.

“oh jesus!”

swinging your arms like a mad man, you steadied yourself at the cliffside. a raging, rushing waterfall hammered into a river below. far below.

a feral snarl sent you whipping around.

backpack was not tasty, it seemed.

the pandoran-panther leapt into a sprint.

and you leapt off the cliff.

the water below felt like a wall. croosh! bubbling, swirling rapids rushed around you. it clogged your nose and burned. you struggled to kick your feet in the current.

swimming was a luxury on earth. what water was clean enough and who had money to go to a pool? only the ultra-rich liked pools. poor people liked old tv specials like animal planet.

instinct and the sway of the current helped you surface. you gasped like a baby taking their first breath. coughing out the water in your mouth, you fought hard to stay above the water. with your arms extended, you caught hold of rocks. you used all the strength your avatar body had and you hauled yourself up onto the rock.

all you could do was breathe.

in and out. fast and deep. over and over again. in and out. in and out. all that mattered was air even when the beast above snarled and screeched at you from the cliffside.

“fuck…you…” you panted.

while you could’ve passed out from exhaustion there, you couldn’t. you forced yourself onto your feet and leapt from the rock to the riverbed. you fell face-first into the mud. it didn’t matter.

nothing mattered but staying alive.

if the avatar died, you’d be shipped to an RDA labor prison to pay back the billion dollars it costed as best you could before you died.

keep moving, you told yourself. if you moved, you lived. movement is life. an actor named brad pitt had said that in an old zombie movie your dad had once showed you.

movement is life.

that became your mantra.

it was funny. running through the forest for you life, it was just funny that with all the money the RDA pumped into mining and space travel, no one could equip the avatar drivers with GPSs?

irony.

irony and karma.

the fear didn’t kick back into you and rattle your bones until the sun began to set. you tried to find shelter as fast as you could. all you had on you was a knife and a flashlight at your hip. the panther had taken your backpack and tore through it like it was clocked into their shift working for the TSA.

the TSA used to at least give your bag back to you.

you’d be getting no such treatment because you had no such luck in a place like this.

a place like pandora.

it was gorgeous. during the day, pandora was utterly jaw-dropping. at night— you didn’t want to know.

whether it was beautiful or not, it wouldn’t matter. it was horrifying. it nearly brought tears to your eyes as you stumbled through the forest with only your flashlight to guide you.

twigs snapped in every direction. a pack of cackling creatures ran through midnight brush. insects whirred and buzzed. massive leafs rustled in the breeze.

every noise made you jump.

every noise made you grip your knife tighter.

hurrying through the dark, you made more noise than you realized. ragged breaths. rustling clothes. loud footsteps. you may as well have been calling out for any dangerous creature to come and eat you whole.

when you exhausted yourself, you finally stopped.

in a clearing between massive trees, you fought to catch your breath. while standing in the open may have been stupid, at least you could see what sprung out at you first. whether or not you could fight it off was something you would deal with if it happened. for now, you breathed.

you clicked off your flashlight and you breathed.

lowering to a crouch to rest, you kept quiet and you kept vigilant. your breath soon returned. you knew to keep calm. while the anxiety you felt now was primal, it was still just anxiety. with each breath, you focused your mind.

you needed a plan.

you couldn’t keep running in the dark. you had to find somewhere to hide until morning. a cave. up in the trees. somewhere. somewhere away from danger.

the forest was glowing.

it was only once your heart had calmed and air actually got the chance to reach your brain that you realized the forest around you was glowing.

you felt your tail flick as amazement bubbled up inside you. you turned to look at it. you forgot you that the spindly blue thing. it fascinated you almost as much as your braid did.

at its core, this whole thing amazed you.

standing in an avatar body of a navi in the bioluminescent forest of pandora was amazing. while part of you had felt guilt leaving earth— pandora was a wonder you would choose again and again.

you got to your feet and admired the way the grass lit up as you took small steps. you smiled as glowing bugs buzzed by. the more you looked around, the more their was to see. truly. with your flashlight off, the forest lit itself. wonders of all kinds became visible.

a soft laugh escaped you as something white floated around your head. it reminded you of a jellyfish. a small, luminescent jellyfish. you spun as it circled you. your tail flicked and your ears perked as the fascinating little thing seemed to interact with you.

all the fear you felt was gone— but unbeknownst to you, you were in the most danger of your life.

in the tree above you, an arrow was begging to fly free from his bow and strike you through the chest.

as the small jellyfish creature landed in your hand, the sun would’ve felt ashamed to not be as bright as your smile if it were up.

the moment lasted only a few seconds. the floating creature hovered over your hand only for a fleeting moment before it moved up and up and up into the air.

you followed it with your eyes.

your little jellyfish friend was not the only thing you saw.

you could see his gleaming, glaring yellow eyes.

you could see the massive silhouette of his body.

you could see his bow that he held half-drawn.

all the shock you felt seeing his blue shadow in the night was nothing compared to the pack of wolf-like monsters that sprang from the dark and attacked.

teeth and claws ripped at your legs. taking out your ankles first, the pack of monsters knew how to hunt. when you fell, one of the large ones leapt at you. your hands shot out to catch the ugly mutt and protect yourself anyway that you could.

an arrow shot through its head and blood splattered across your face.

a gasp escaped you as the blue shadow jumped from the tree above and sprang into action. arrows flew as fast as bullets. one. two. three dead before you could even fumble for your knife.

a knife was nothing compared to him.

he alone with his teeth bared scared off the pack of horrifying wolves.

you could hardly breathe.

in utter silence, you watched as the Navi male retrieved his arrows. he was mumbling to himself. soft hisses escaped him as he pulled each arrow free from the kills he had made.

“thank you…” you whispered. tried to. you could hardly hear your own voice.

the beads in his hair clicked as he moved. he did not look at you. he didn’t have to. the scowl on his face sent a shiver of fear racing down your spine.

like a newborn deer, you tried to stand. the pain in your legs made you wince. again, you tried to get up but the pain only worsened.

a hiss sent you rigid.

you didn’t have to look up at him. he was crouched beside you with no taste for personal space. he grabbed your legs and tore the fabric around your knees off. you opened your mouth to shout at him but his scowl shut you up.

if he was going to kill you, he would’ve.

if he was going to hurt you, he would’ve.

he was checking your injuries.

“it’s bad, huh?” you asked in a whisper, “it’s really bad, isn’t it?”

he said noting.

all he did was prod at the wounds with his large, calloused finger.

“hey!” you kicked him lightly. “that hurts!”

he grabbed you by the bend of your knee and shoved. your head hit the ground hard as you fell back. tears wet your eyes on reflex. a soft groan escaped you. anger boiled in your blood. you pushed yourself up on your elbows intent on cursing him out.

you stopped as he wrapped your wounds in the fabric he ripped off your pants.

you grit your teeth and kept quiet. it hurt like a bitch. the rough, gritty fabric was unkind to your wounds. despite his never-ending scowl, he was gentle.

“thank you…” you whispered for the second time. this time he heard you.

“do not thank.” he hissed, his voice a deep, sharp slash in the space between you. “you should not thank for this. this is not good. this is sad.”

“i— i’m sorry?” you offered, just wanting him to know that you appreciated his kindness.

he only scowled at you.

when he stood, panic rushed through you. before your mind to race to any awful thoughts about how he may abandon you now, he extended his hands.

you hesitated.

he huffed out of his nose and curled his lip.

you reached for him instantly.

“ah— fuck…” you muttered as you stood. it was an awful stinging pain. it shot up your legs as you put your weight on them.

“very painful?”

you looked up at him as he placed his hand on your waist to support some of your weight.

tall.

so, so tall. a head and a half taller than you. it almost had you tongue tied. all you could do was nod. for a stupid, dumbfounded moment, you nodded like a idiot.

by the look in his eyes, he seemed to think you were exactly that.

the male grumbled. under his breath, he seemed to curse. your brows drew together as he turned around and crouched down. you stood still. your ears pinned back and you tilted your head. his tail began to flick. sharp and fast.

you had a cat once.

cats flicked their tails like that when they grew angry.

he reached back, grabbed your arm, and gave it a harsh tug. a gasp escaped you as you bumped into his back. the realization dawned on you when he brought your hand over his shoulder to his chest.

he would carry you.

carefully, you hooked your arms around him. with a fluidity that stunned you, he rose to his feet. you weighed nothing to him. even as a massive navi avatar yourself, you weighed nothing. his hands curled around your thighs and he hoisted you up higher on his back. you clung close and kept your head tucked toward his shoulder to try and keep his arrows from smacking you in the face.

“thank you— sorry.” you cringed. “sorry. not thank you. im sorry.”

for a moment it was silent as he walked.

“you are welcome.”

something tickled your belly at his response.

your heart was sprinting without you having to run from his acknowledgment alone. your head spun as it tried to keep up with all that had happened. he had leapt from the trees and saved you with no hesitation. he had tended to your wounds. he carried you to safety.

you couldn’t pull your eyes off his face.

his features were sharp. he had a sharp jaw. he had sharp ears. his flat nose was pointed down at the end, still making it sharp. his eyes were sharp. his lips. his teeth. his voice.

everything.

he was like a dagger.

heat rose to your face as he turned his head to meet your gaze. for the first time, he did not scowl. not at first. for a moment too fleeting, he was cat-like. he seemed to look at you just as closely as you looked at him. his pupils dilated and his ears perked— but his face soon became a disgruntled scowl as you stared at him too long and he jostled you as a warning.

you looked away. “what is your name?”

“tsu’tey,” he said after a moment of debating whether or not to answer.

“tsu’tey.” you repeated. it was fun to say. it made you smile. “my name is eris.”

“okay.”

his blunt, simple reply made you laugh. his ears pinned at the sound and he turned his head to look at you. he seemed bewildered by the fact that you laughed. embarrassment made your ears ring.

“uh…so…how old are you?” you asked, trying to keep the awkward tension at bay.

“cannot answer. don’t know how to say it like you.” he said with a small shake of his head.

you bit your lip. you were going to humiliate yourself but you may as well try.

“age?” you asked in navi.

tsu’tey looked back at you. a smile curled across his lips that disarmed you entirely. “i am twenty-five.”

“twenty-five? that’s cool. i— i’m also that. twenty-five, too. we’re the same age. that’s so…cool.” you stammered, at a loss for coherent words.

his smile dropped entirely and he shifted you on his back.

you had never wanted to die more.

“you must be getting ill from their claws. fever is common. we must get to the tsahik quickly.” tsu’tey said with a single nod of his head.

of course, yes.

your state of bumbling idiocy came from wounds— not that fact that a giant blue man had saved you and now carried you to safety on his back. it was a fever that made you hot, not the way his fingers felt around your thighs or the way his skin felt like velvet under your fingertips.

maybe you were having a stroke, too.

burning toast?

no, that was just the earthy, spicy scent of him that made your mouth water.

it wasn’t until he put you down that you had any idea of where you were. there was only one place you could be. you had read about it in the prep books that had once belonged to your sister.

the tree was larger than life.

hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air, home tree towered the way colossus of rhodes could’ve only dreamed to.

you hissed under your breath as the weight on your wounds sent sharp pain through your legs. as you looked up at him, you realized there had been softness to his sharp features this whole time.

that softness was gone.

a startled yelp escaped you as he grabbed you by the end of your braid and pushed you forward.

“ow! hey!”

his voice was lethal. “walk, demon.”

with him guiding your every move, you walked. your face burned as you entered home tree. hundreds of navi turned and gasped. they chirped, calling out to inform others there was an intruder in their home. soon, the inhabitants were all too close trying to catch a glimpse of you.

tsu’tey hissed as hands stuck out to touch you. he barked orders in navi that were lost to your ears. so much was. hundreds of voices spoke at once. the chattering was deafening— and so was the sound of your racing heart as tsu’tey brought you in front of the chief.

your mind blanked on the navi title he held — as it had blanked on every word — but you knew who the male decorated in feathers and beads was. his large bow was hooked around his back. his old, sunken face was a masterpiece of stoicism.

beside him with her tail flicking was none other than the tsahik you were here to see.

tsu’tey let you go but he did not go far. not far at all. his hand curled around the hilt of his knife. if the order was given to kill you— it would be him who snuffed the life from your lungs.

you felt like you had been dropped into the middle of the ocean. you were fighting to stay steady. the pain in your legs had you wobbling. the conversation you found yourself in the middle of was lost to you ears. you could only pick out a few words.

kill her?

a question from the chief.

no.

an answer from tsu’tey.

eywa has given a sign.

your head snapped as those words left his lips. you looked up at him, your ears perking. as he met your eyes, his ears pinned back.

you understood. how much he didn’t know, but you understood. you knew more than he imagined you could’ve.

“you are injured.”

you turned your head as the tsahik approached you.

with a slow nod, you signed ‘i see you.’

a collective gasp was one that even tsu’tey shared in.

the tsahik’s tail swayed and she looked back at the chief. he had an expression you found hard to read. without another word, the tsahik grabbed your arm and guided you along. you swallowed your whimpers as you kept up with her long stride.

these people and their grabbing…

you glanced back over your shoulder to see tsu’tey let go of his knife and kneel before his chief.

“sit.” the tsahik demanded as you entered her hut.

slowly, you sat down on one of the mats. the hut was full of herbs, oils, and hanging flowers. a small fire burned in the center of the room. around it, mats lay in a circle. a small wooden table is where she stopped. she gathered medicines and supplies.

“what attacked you?” the tsahik asked.

“uh…i— i’m not sure.” you said with a shake of your head.

“describe.”

you swallowed thickly. closing your eyes, you tried to conjure any glimpse you could remember. “they…they were like dogs. six legs. black teeth. growling and cackling like hyenas. there was a pack of them.”

how the hell would she know what a dog was let alone a hyena?

idiot.

“nantang,” the tsahik said as she turned. she kneeled in front of you and seemed to smile with her ears, as if she found this amusing. “sky people like you named them viperwolves.”

“nantang…” you repeated softly. you’d surely remember that word.

“how did tsu’tey find you?” the tsahik asked as she unwrapped the makeshift bandages from your legs.

you grit your teeth as the air stung your wounds. you tried to sit still. “i was with my group. the other avatar drivers? we were out in the forest doing research with dr. augustine. grace. do you know her?”

the tsahik nodded once. she stuck her fingers into a jar of greasy ointment and began to lather it on your wounds. a soft grunt escaped you at the sting.

“i got separated,” you said through your teeth. you focused on telling your story. it distracted you from the pain. “there was this huge fucking thing that attacked. massive. all black. had these face-flap things that look like this.”

you tried your best to mimic what it had looked like with your hands and the tsahik stared at you with wide eyes.

you dropped your hands and fought the urge to strangle yourself as embarrassment churned in your gut.

“palulukan.” the tsahik said. she wrapped your legs in leafs and tied them with long grass-line twine. “i do not know what your people have called it, but it is very dangerous.”

“yeah,” you said with a small nod. “palulu…yeah, it was that thing. it chased me. i had to jump off a waterfall and i got lost. he found me in the forest playing with um…”

“it was small,” you raised your hands to show the size of the tiny thing. you traced your palm. “it could fit here. so small. it was white. it looked…like a jellyfish.”

the tsahik stopped.

she looked at you.

with blown pupils, she looked at you.

“atokirina…” she murmured.

your brows furrowed. “ato-what-now?”

the tsahik stood suddenly. she placed her hand on your head before she left her hut. you sat in silence. your ears pinned back and your tail swayed across the woven mat.

had she just patted your head?

maybe you weren’t as doomed as you thought you were.

alone in the warm hunt, staying awake began to get hard. it smelled like heavenly incense. the stinging in your wounds disappeared into a cool clam. the fire warmed what the icy river and night air had chilled.

if it weren’t for the urgency to know this body would be safe and the hunger that rumbled in your belly, you had every intention of falling asleep. not only was the body tired but you were tired.

how you could you not be with all that had happened?

not just today.

with everything.

her face was like a bruise on your soul that you hated to see even in your mind. looking at your own face in the mirror was just as hard because it looked like hers.

would your sister have been able to survive the palulukan? would she have had the guts to jump off the cliff? how the hell had you even had the guts to do that? on earth, you worked a shit job servicing food at a drive-and-dine and spent your nights watching old tv cartoons. where the hell had all your courage come from?

looking back; though, you’d always had some courage.

your sister had none.

and she would’ve been eaten alive.

guilt burned in your stomach as that thought resonated in your mind. you pushed it away as best you could. you pushed it all away. none of it mattered now. nothing about earth and your old life mattered. there was only here and now.

just as your eyes drooped shut, the beaded curtain pulled apart. you turned your head to find not only the tsahik but tsu’tey. him and his awful scowl.

“get up, demon. you come with me. it is decided.” tsu’tey said gruffly. he reached for your arm.

“what?” you asked, shaking your head.

“eywa has given us a sign, dreamwalker.” the tsahik said as she crouched to your level. she pulled a thorn from her chest piece and stuck your arm with it. she licked off the blood and smiled. “you are to stay here where we can keep our eyes on you.”

you rubbed at the small hurt on your arm. looking between the two of them, all you could do was nod. you wouldn’t pass up their hospitality. especially not if you knew the body would be safe here.

“tsu’tey himself saw the atokirina bless you. you are his student now. he shall teach you our ways.” the tsahik said. “it is decided.”

you looked up at him.

he scowled at the fire.

how fun…

“alright,” you said as you tried to heave yourself up. your body weighed a thousand pounds and your legs ached still, but you could move a bit easier. “it is decided then…”

tsu’tey shot the tsahik an annoyed expression but she only waved her hand. he huffed under his breath and grabbed you by the arm. he tugged you out of the hut.

“hey, man, c’mon!” you said, pulling your arm from his grasp. you glared up at him. “stop pulling me around. i can walk just fine.”

he only stared down at you. his tail swayed behind him and his ears perked. you could’ve sworn that you saw his lip curl into a smirk.

he turned and walked off.

fast.

“hey!”

you nearly had to jog to keep up with him. when you caught up to his side, he was smirking. this was a punishment. what an asshole!

“you are slow.” tsu’tey said without looking at you. his voice was always so sharp. his accent was thick and it made your ears tingle. “you are weak.”

“climb.” he said, flicking his head towards the center column of home tree. a spiraling, colossal root that acted as a staircase.

you grit your teeth. you hated heights but you hated that smug look on his face even more. you began to climb. he followed behind you. he watched you like a hawk. while his cold, challenging demeanor was as rough as sandpaper— his attentiveness was so sweet it could’ve rot away all your teeth.

he grasped your waist as you slipped. steading you on your feet, he kept you in place. you looked back at him. his hairless browns seemed to raise. it was like he was saying, ‘careful, demon.’

you brushed off his hand and continued on. you had no idea how far he was expecting you to go. you refused to look down. your breath was jagged in your throat and you had never felt more tired. just as your muscles couldn’t take anymore, he tugged your arm. together, you walked along a thick branch as wide as a runway. you followed him into a hanging hut.

it was small. three baskets by one wall. a woven mat across the floor. a bed of furs. small holes in the ceiling to let strands of light in. it was cozy. it smelled of him. you liked it.

“remove those clothes.” he said as he crouched over one of the baskets. he dug through it.

you eyes widened. “excuse me?”

he looked back at you. “remove. the. clothes.” he said again. this time, as if your were an idiot.

when he stood, he held a garment made of beads and a long loincloth similar to his own. standing before him now, you realized just how much of him you could see.

he was broad. impeccably so. his long limbs were slim and his frame was slender but he had muscle. you knew he did. you felt it as he grasped you and carried you through the forest.

bands decorated his arms. a woven leather corset was snug around his ribs. it probably was meant for something tactical but to you it looked like a corset. his waist was small. his legs were long and powerful. around his neck was a collar-like necklace made of hundreds of beads.

his blue skin held the most interesting stripes. his tail was long. a lot longer than yours. it flicked impatiently. his hair was braided back, except for a few pieces with red breads hung by his face. the long braid of his queue flowed down his back. in the dim light of his hut, his freckles glowed.

“now, demon.” he demanded again, throwing the garments at you.

“turn around.” you said, jutting your chin at him.

he narrowed his eyes at you and shook his head. “what?”

“turn.” you said, gesturing the action with your finger.

he scoffed.

“have you no sense of privacy?” you asked with a scowl that seemed to amuse him.

“privacy. human word. meaningless to me.” tsu’tey spat as he passed by you. he made sure to hit you with his shoulder as he exited his hut.

“savage…” you muttered under your breath.

as you undressed yourself, you could hear him pacing outside. he must be paranoid. did he think you would stab him in the back if he turned? wouldn’t you have done that in the forest?

or maybe privacy really wasn’t a thing to him— to any of the navi. less so than humans, at the very least. they did only cover their gentiles with loincloths and breasts with beaded tops. they showed far more skin than the average human did.

dressed in such a thing now, you felt entirely out of your comfort zone. the string of the loincloth rode up your ass. you had to adjust it for it to feel comfortable. the beaded top you wore hid your perky blue nipples, but not much else. while navi breasts were small, your chest wasn’t flat. the human dna used to create the avatar gave the body extra features.

five fingers. hairy eyebrows. the queues extending out from the nape of the neck and not the top of the head. the male avatars had more muscle. they were bulkier than navi-born males. the female avatars were aerodynamic and slim like navi-born females, but their chests weren’t as flat. compared to your real body, the boobs on your avatar were nothing. but the boobs compared to the populaces normal, it was definitely something more.

as you exited his hut, tsu’tey turned. the cold, harsh scowl he wore faltered. you felt something warm tingle in your stomach as his eyes mapped the whole of you. his pupils dilated and his ears perked up as his eyes landed on your chest.

you swatted at him— or tried to.

he caught your wrist and tugged you along. you did not protest. protesting with him did you no good. that was something you learned quick.

“tomorrow, i teach you how to ride.” tsu’tey said as he led you back down the main column of home tree.

going down was much scarier than going up. you gripped his hand and stared at the back of his head the whole time. while he was tense, he did not pull his hand from yours.

“ride what?” you dared to ask. your heart was in your throat.

“pa’li.” tsu’tey said. he glanced over his shoulder. “you call them…horse.”

a horse? that should be easy enough. you used to watch old western specials as a kid. nothing too terrifying about a horse, right?

instead of walking back down to the ground level, you entered a large hollow section of the tree. hundreds of navi gathered. sitting down all together, you realized they were eating.

you could’ve cried. thank you, lord! your stomach felt hollow with hunger for the last hour.

“sit.” tsu’tey said, pushing at your shoulder.

you sat. the navi beside you seemed to shy away. you looked up at tsu’tey but he was gone. he was off to the side gathering food off a long wooden table. when he returned, he handed you the leaf piled with meats, berries and nuts without a word.

you ate in silence across from him. he sat with the tsahik and the chief— the olo’eyktan. you remembered the word. beside them, a strikingly beautiful navi woman. she ate without lifting her gaze.

as her ears pinned back, you knew she could feel you staring. you were quick to look down at your food.

it tasted better than anything you ever had before and you ate with haste. the pain in your stomach ceased and you ate your fill. it was rude not to clean your plate. you made sure to eat every last bite.

when you finished, you looked up to see tsu’tey watching. your ears perked as he flicked his head. you followed his gaze to the long table full of food. it took you a second but you realized he was asking you if you were still hungry.

meeting his gaze, you shook your head no.

he nodded once.

the clan ate all together— and they slept at the same time, too. filing up through the main column, people separated into their designated beds. hundreds of hanging hammocks and nests filled the space between the internal branches. single navi slept alone. pairs slept with each other. families shared nest-like hammocks.

“come,” tsu’tey said, guiding you onward.

as you followed him, you couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes deadlocked onto the back of your head. looking over your shoulder, you saw her again. the female navi. she climbed down into her own hanging hut and disappeared. when she was gone, that’s when you remembered tsu’tey was an impatient jackass who would yank your arm if you didn’t pay attention.

he nearly did but you reacted just in time.

“what’s her name?” you asked. you flicked your head in the direction of her but.

tsu’tey followed your gaze. his shoulders stiffened and his lips twitched. not a smile. a frown. “that is neytiri. daughter of olo’eyktan and tsahik.”

“this is yours.” he said with a lazy point towards a hanging hammock. it was nearby his hut. a branch below. “you sleep now. tomorrow is going to be long.”

“aye-aye, captain.” you said with a salute.

tsu’tey narrowed his eyes as a puzzled expression took over his face. you swallowed hard. slowly, you signed to him.

‘i see you’.

he only huffed out a small goodbye. you watched as he climbed his way to his own hut. he did not look back at you. he disappeared inside and the flap shut.

you sighed and carefully slipped your way into your hammock. it was comfier than you thought it would be. warmer, too. the warm air and soft breeze made it easy to feel drowsy as you laid down. the gentle sway of the hammock made your eyes heavy.

it felt like you had fallen asleep. black muddled behind your eyelids before bright, tunneling white.

all you could see was white.

there was a loud, incessant ringing in your ears.

“c’mon, kid, wake up.”

the white blinding light began to morph into shapes. into colors. into people. a ginger haired scientist. she moved her flashlight in and out of your face, patting your cheek.

“hey,” grace said, her voice coming in clear. “snap out of it.”

sense rushed back into your brain as she snapped her fingers beside your ear. your eyes widened and a gasped cleaved it’s way out of your chest. the whirr of the machine purred in your ear. the bright lights of the room were harsh after the gentle luminance of the pandoran forest.

“are you okay?” grace asked, pushing your hair behind your ears. it was the kindest she’d ever been. “how are you feeling? is the avatar safe?”

“i— i am. i’m good…” you said. your voice was hardly a whisper. your breath came hard and fast. even then, a smile curled onto your lips. “doc, you’re gonna do backflips when you find out where i am.”

[thanks for reading :3 this is a lot of fun to write and i have a lot planned <3 tsu’tey is an underappreciated king and a slow burn romance fic is exactly what the world needs i fear :) see ya next chapter! —moony]

next chapter >

#tsutey #avatar 2009 #james cameron avatar #avatar 2009 fan fic #human reader #Avatar driver reader #Navi x avatar driver #tsutey x you #slow burn #angst #yearning #jake sully #neytiri #enemies to lovers #found family

67 notes · View notes