#school has been actually insane like i just had midterms but i still have more work grrhrhrhrhrhhr

[battlecriesandroses]

hi tumblr 👋

[dreamsteddie]

AITA Steddie Au Part Three

Part Two

Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!

Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓

------

Eddie takes Steve on that second date.

And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.

Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.

Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.

Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.

------

"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.

He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.

"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.

Gareth doesn't say anything.

The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.

He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.

So why this? Why now?

"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.

Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.

Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."

With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.

"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.

Eddie kept walking.

-------

That was over four weeks ago.

He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.

In other news.

Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.

"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.

"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.

"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.

But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.

Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.

"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.

"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."

Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.

"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.

Silence.

Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.

Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"

And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.

"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.

"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.

"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.

It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.

Eddie squeezes his hand back.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.

Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.

"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.

"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.

"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.

Gotcha.

Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.

Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.

Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.

Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.

Tag List

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[chiscaralight]

"8 months?!"

synopsis: weeks of stress call for a friday night of lazing on the couch and drinking with your roommate!toji. you may or may not have accidentally let something slip, and toji takes it into his hands to fix it. not without making sure you're up to the challenge first.

includes: nsfw! toji x fem!reader, drunk sex, they're drinking throughout, alcohol play, all consensual, reader gets referred to as doll/dollface, girl among other things, slight choking, low-key face fucking, p in v, oral both receiving. i love toji, miss u stink w.c: 3.4k

It's been almost two months since you’ve had time for yourself. School, work, and friends have been plaguing you with duty after duty for the longest and it’s all been weighing on you heavily. Now that the midterms are over, you’ve decided to take the next two days off of work and have a long weekend. Five days of doing absolutely nothing and just recuperating from all the stress of the world.

But actually doing absolutely nothing is far from your agenda. You’re shutting your shared apartment door with your hips because your hands are full of bags. Bags of bottles.

No, you don’t have a drinking problem. But everyone needs a good drink once in a while. And what better way to unwind than straight hard liquor and shitty tv shows? Straight hard liquor and shitty tv shows with your roommate, Toji!

You haven’t asked him yet, but you sent a quick text asking if he’d binge a show with you. You make sure to include the fact that there might be some drinking involved, and by the time you’re back from changing, he’s patiently manspreading on the couch, bottle in hand as he smirks at you. You shake your head and make your way over, picking some random sitcom to cheese over while you drink.

It’s not long before you start to get woozy, and you’re much more relaxed and chatty. He’ll never admit it but he’s pleased to see you like this. You haven’t been sharing this apartment with him for so long, so you’re still somewhat reserved. It’s fine though, because it makes the way you talk to him now much more enticing.

You’re even forgoing the show you put on to just drone on and on. His whole demeanor changes when you say something about last getting nasty in February.

“February…girl, it’s October—you haven’t gotten laid in eight months?”

You groan and slap your hands over your face.

You scowl at the thought of that dreadful night. You weren’t some kind of sex god yourself, but you’re pretty sure no one should feel as bad as you did that day. The whole thing was dry, fast, and painfully unsexy. You’re snatching the bottle out of your roommate's hand and raising it to your lip to wash away the memories of pain.

Toji is absolutely dumbfounded at your words. He’d be damned if he could go two weeks without getting his dick sucked, what do you mean eight fucking months??

“must’ve been some weak ass dick to get you out the game for almost a year. fuckin insane.”

toji's eyes rake over your exposed thighs and the buzz from the alcohol is starting to get a bit stronger in his mind.

"y'know, maybe I could help ya with that."

Once the words register in your hazy mind, you're choking on the remaining liquid that covers your tongue. toji's large hand swats rather gently at your back as he grumbles.

"Easy now, didn't mean to startle you. s'just a suggestion anyway."

He leans back and shuts his eyes, letting the swirling feeling take over his body rather than the thought of you. Having to hide the fact he's been eyeing you for the longest time has been hard enough, he doesn't need the air getting too awkward because he couldn't shut his drunk ass up.

"what if... I do want it?"

You’re trying to catch the words before they come out, but your reaction time has been stupidly slowed by the intoxication. You’re inwardly cursing at yourself, turning your head the other way to avoid his eyes.

toji is cracking an eye open to look at your expression, but you're avoiding his face. You gasp as he grips your chin to force your gaze into his own.

"you sure about that, dollface?"

Maybe there is a little doubt somewhere in your mind, but it's not like you haven't thought about fucking toji before. And with the alcohol jumbling the last three thoughts you've managed to hold onto for the last hour, you give him a shaky nod.

Toji smirks before licking the trail of alcohol that had dribbled from your lips prior. His tongue is wet and warm as it drags over the corner of your mouth. He's so close to your face like this and you're parting your lips instinctively. He takes it as a sign to place his mouth on yours. Your lips are just as soft as you, but they're way softer than he imagined. His hand moves towards your neck to grip and pull you closer to him. The quick action has you yelping, and he's shoving his tongue into your mouth.

The kiss is rough, sloppy, and full of teeth. It's so primal, so messy, so toji. You're getting giddy-brained from how that scar is grazing your lip and the strong taste of alcohol isn't helping your situation.

Your body is twisted weirdly to accommodate his position, but something in the back of your mind is telling you to move. You’re fighting a losing battle trying to overpower it, because soon enough you're climbing into his lap to get as close as possible.

This is something he generously welcomes. Placing his hands on your hips, he's guiding your clothed cunt over his hardening cock. His lips trail down the side of your face to the skin of your neck. The harsh bite he gives your neck has you yelping out, and it comes out broken.

His rough fingers are moving up your sides, under the flimsy material of your tank top, and you are getting impatient. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose to piss you off, but you’re not angry—more desperate than anything. You’re pushing hard against him, whining—begging for him to help you out. It’s been so long, and toji is doing such a good job at riling you up, you’re sure you’ll explode if this goes on any longer.

“Ah ah, not so fast. Before I fuck this cunt, Y’gotta prove you deserve it. Show me how badly you want it.”

He’s softly shoving you off him, but his face is still so close to yours.

“Y’er mouth, doll. Use that mouth of yours.”

Knees planted firmly into the carpet below you, you’re a little scared. Toji’s cock is out before you; long, angry, and leaking. You always assumed he’d be big, but seeing it up close like this was a whole different story.

“If y’keep starin’ like that, nothing’s gonna get done, princess.”

you suck in a breath before covering the tip of his cock with your lips. His precum is salty-sweet, but you savor the taste nonetheless as it mixes with your saliva and spreads all around his tip. Toji groans at the sensation, throwing his head back.

With a few bobs of your head, you’ve managed to take most of his length without an issue. But he’s still so big, and he’s entirely keen on having himself fully sheathed in your mouth. You whimper when his heavy hand comes in contact with the back of your head.

“c’mon doll, know you can take it all—fuck yeah, jus’ like that.”

The tears welling in your eyes are threatening to spill over when your nose presses against the base of his cock. Your eyes are pressed shut, and you’re barely able to swallow around his cock. When you’re finally able to open them, you catch Toji’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows another mouthful of alcohol. His eyes meet yours in a lustful gaze, and you’re finally comfortable enough to move.

Whether it’s the recent shot he took, or you’re just insanely good, the dark-haired man is losing his fucking mind. The heat from your mouth coupled with the vibrations from noises you’re making around him is sending him to another plane. His entire body feels like static, and he's getting so lost in the pleasure he's completely unaware when he starts to guide your lips up and down his length.

Your nails are digging into the exposed muscles of his thighs as he humps up to meet your head coming down, and you can't hold back the tears anymore. You're taking everything he's giving you so well, not a single complaint from the moment he started to fuck your face until he finishes staining the back of your throat with his thick cum.

He rides every single drop out into your mouth, making sure his balls are completely empty before letting you pull off. Your face is tear-stricken, and you're huffing to catch your breath, but you're far from done.

“fucker really lost a gem, huh. Alright—your turn, get up here n’lay down.”

With your back pressed to the arm of the couch, toji is staring at you from

above. Usually, you’d be self-conscious, being fully naked and all, but it looks like the gears in his head are turning, and they’re turning hard. he takes another second before pausing, reaching over behind you to grab at your almost empty bottle.

It’s quick, and soon enough the room-temperature liquid is trickling down your body. The lips of the bottle are pressed just above your tits, starting to dribble down between them and the trail is messy and diverging. You can feel the drops splitting off and falling onto the cushions below you, but you’re much too enticed by the concentration on his face.

You shiver when you feel the drink starting to pool in your belly button, and he decides it’s enough. He places the bottle down on the ground beside him before connecting his mouth with the beginning of his newly made trail.

Even in the cool air of the living room, your body is insanely hot. His lips are working stupidly slow, warm tongue flicking over every droplet he could catch. It should be weird, but the way his brows are furrowed in deep concentration is making the heat brewing in your belly pick up. He’s taking his time, bending and weaving his neck as he makes his way down, down and down.

Toji’s rough tongue swirls deep in your belly button, and you can’t help the way your stomach churns. It’s doing weird things to you, the way he’s drinking out of the shallow dip. he only stops when he’s satisfied with how much he was able to get out. His hot trail of biting, sucking, and kisses doesn’t stop until his lips are stationed right above your clit.

In terms of patience, toji doesn’t have a lot of it. He thinks he’s done an almost perfect job of taking his time with you, making sure you’re as wanting as possible. But your scent is assaulting his mind, and the bits of intoxication he’s picked up from drinking off your body alone are starting to fuck with him just a bit.

So he mumbles something under his breath before pushing your thighs up and diving in. It’s almost all too quick the way his mouth closes around your swollen clit. Your body is raising from the chair, but toji is keeping you so strongly grounded against his face as he sucks hard. Your hands are trying to find something—anything to keep you from absolutely losing it, and your shaky fingers settle on his head.

Your nails are digging deep into his scalp, fisting at his dark locks that are now damp with sweat. You’re pulling him closer and closer into your heat, and your vision starts to go white once he invites a thick finger in.

It’s not normal how good this feels. Even though your last fuck was so ass, all the good ones combined couldn’t even compare to what you’re feeling now. Your mouth is leaking words your brain can’t register, and Toji’s scar grazing the puffy skin of your pussy is not helping.

His large hand still has your leg up in the air just high enough, and he’s giving you the benefit of the doubt that if he lets it go you won’t disappoint. He can feel the way your foot starts to rest on his back once he releases.

But it’s almost immediately that his tongue is switching out with his finger and your thighs are closing in quick on his head. He circles an arm around, thumb roughly pressing against your sensitive nub as he fucks you with his tongue. The wet muscle is twisting and turning inside you, brushing all around against the best spots that have you choking and crying out praises of his name.

In tandem with his finger, his nose is still bumping harshly bumping your clit and that’s what sends you almost toppling over the edge. Your eyes roll back and as you look up you can’t even see the roof, just waves and waves of hot pleasure spreading over your brain like the way your release is spreading all over his tongue.

toji is lapping up your essence like a dog, sucking and drinking it all in as he ‘cleans’ you up. He nods in satisfaction, and he raises himself to give him space to pull his shirt off.

“want another shot before I fuck the shit outta ya?”

So vulgar. But you nod regardless. Reaching back down, Toji grabs the almost empty bottle and fills his mouth with the rest. His hand grips your cheeks until your lips are slightly parted, then he places his on yours. You can feel the punishing liquid flow into your mouth. Once he’s sure his mouth is empty, he pulls back and waits for you to swallow. Then he shakes.

He’s shaking your head with such a force that would definitely leave you dazzled sober, but your head is absolutely rolling mixed with the alcohol. You whine from the way your vision blurs and you can hear him laugh.

“Don’t be like that, it’ll make it much nicer. C’mon, flip over, lemme show you.”

Your fingers are holding onto the arm of the chair as he bullies the tip of his cock into your entrance. He’s hissing at the way you’re swallowing him up with that cunt of yours, and you’re just trying not to let your brain get too far from your head.

Whatever amount of alcohol he gave was definitely more than a shot, and the way he shook you right after was definitely too much because you can barely register anything else than the stretch of his cock and the way the room is wobbling.

He’s barely halfway in when it really starts to hit you. Your lips are curling into a wry smile as the base of his cock is pressed flat against your ass, and you’re almost completely sure you’re in heaven. Your mouth is open but nothing is coming out, and it’s a smack! on the ass from his heavy hand that’s drawing you back in with a moan. All it takes is you looking back at him with those adorable eyes of yours to turn him right on, and he’s starting to fuck you with a speed that’s causing your brain to lag.

Toji is a big guy(in all aspects) with a lot of energy. And all that energy is going into ruining your cunt at this very moment. His hands are tight against your hips as his come flush with yours over and over, balls smacking against you. Your eyes are shut and you’re practically wailing from the pleasure overload. He’s grunting hard above you, voice deep and gruff all while keeping you in place to take every thrust.

“Move those hips, girl. Fuck—yes. Keep movin’ like that.”

You’re trying your best to keep up with his pace as best as you can; which to be honest isn’t that good. The speed he’s moving is inhumane, but he’s rewarding your efforts by angling his own hips up to help his tip push perfectly against that certain spot deep in you.

Your words have lost all coherence, and you’re just a crying mess of pleas. He’s planted one foot on the ground for leverage, knocking something over that’ll be a pain to clean later, but he doesn’t care. Right now he’s completely focused on you and the stupidly sweet noises you’re making that he’s not sure when he sends a thrust that has you almost toppling off the couch.

Even with the way his mind is all over the place, he’s still quick to pull you back before you get too far. Your breathing is all over the place, your face a fucked mess, but you’re still functioning enough to mutter out a weak-

“p-please don’t stop!”

And who is he to deny you in this moment, hm? But he’s not big on the idea of risking that dumb little head of yours, so he moves his hold to your elbows. He’s holding your entire front weight up without a problem, and picking up his pace again without much of an issue.

And you’re completely crumbling under his hold when he starts to pound into you once again. He's hitting too deep, too hard, too quickly and it's all too much for you. That familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach is spreading all through your body; flowing through your entire being like the blood in your veins.

"t-toji, m'cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck-"

And your entire body is flashing white hot as you cum, trembling under his hold. Your voice is a shrill hoarse cry as his hips slow; grinding against your ass to fuck you to your orgasm's end.

You're losing all energy, barely able to even keep your head up, but Toji is far from done with you.

"You tired?"

But you're quick to shake your head no. It's been months, almost a year since you've gotten even a fraction of what this is. You're not about to pass it up for anything. he mumbles a sultry 'atta girl' before pulling you towards him. Your back is hitting the soaked seat of the couch as he kneels above you. His grip is finding your knees and bringing them down towards your chest, before filling you up with his still-hard length.

"Shit, that fucker lost a treasure. Basically won the damn lottery here."

His words are going straight to your cunt, and your hole is fluttering around him, almost locking him in place as you writhe from the overstimulation.

Toji is pushing a lone finger past your swollen lips, and it's almost instinct the way your tongue flits over it. You're sucking moaning around it, and the way your face contorts as he continues to move in and out of you is making his cock twitch inside you. Each twitch and pulse of the thick vein lining the underside of his cock have you jumping at each slight movement.

But he's nothing but a man, and the weight in his balls is becoming too much to bear. He has no intentions of cumming anywhere that's not inside you, so he dips his head as close to your face as possible.

"Gotta fill this cunt up. Y'er gonna take it all, yeah?"

You're gurgling something unintelligible around his digit, but the way you look up at him is all the confirmation he needs.

hes releasing from your mouth, pushing the wet finger against your clit as your back arches off the chair. He can feel you pulsing around him, and it's a sob full of his name that has him groaning, pressing his forehead flush with yours as he pumps you full of his cum. Each spurt is thicker than the last, and by the time he's done you feel completely full, still plugged up with his softening cock.

When he does eventually pull out, you can barely lift a finger. Your entire body is flushed and sticky, and the reality of what just happened is starting to hit you hard. Toji is getting up and scooping you into his arms to take you to the bathroom.

"Y'er paying to get that shit cleaned, by the way."

"You're the one who got alcohol all over it?"

"Yeah, but it's your cum that's soakin' into those cushions right now, doll."

Toji snickers when he hears you call him an asshole under your breath. He won't be as much of an asshole if he bends you over the bathroom vanity though, right?

[lil13]

Pov: Enemies to lovers. Specifically, Ethan is your academic rival and you absolutely hate him. Or so you think.

•

You walked through the door of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s New York apartment with Mindy and Anika in tow. Mindy was your roommate, someone you’ve known since preschool, so it wasn’t a question that the two of you would be roommates.

“T, please tell me this is going to be a girl’s night.” You asked, falling down on the couch you had taken 1 too many naps on over the past few months you all lived in the city.

After the most recent stabbings, you all managed to get into a summer program at Blackmore. The excuse was that you wanted to get ahead in college, but the real reason was you all couldn’t stand to be in Woodsboro any longer.

A blush rose on Tara’s cheeks and you knew that your girl’s night was in jeopardy. “Chad… might be coming.”

“If he brings his fucking, smart ass roommate i’m leaving.”

Mindy scoffed, sitting down on the couch with you. “Relax, Y/n, if he brings him, just ignore him. I don’t understand the beef between you two… I know why I don’t like him.”

The girl Meeks-Martin twin claimed that Ethan Landry — Chad’s roommate and your self-proclaimed mortal enemy — was not to be trusted. Ever since Amber and Richie, Mindy rarely trusted another person.

“There are a lot of reasons as to why I hate him, but one of them has to do with our Econ class.”

Sam handed you a beer, knowing you needed to be somewhat buzzed if the curly-headed boy was coming over. “Econ?”

“Yes, Econ, he’s… too good at it.” You scoffed, “He consistently has the highest average in the class and—”

“You’re not used to being second to anyone.” Tara connected the dots, clinking her beer bottle with yours.

You had been the Valedictorian in high school, #1 overall. So, coming to Blackmore and having this curly-headed boy so easily beat you out aggravated you. Since you realized he was your academic rival, you began finding more and more about him that bothered you. That way you’d hate him instead of only being jealous of him.

Jealousy bothered you.

On a list of things about the boy that bothered you:

His hair was too curly.

He was too nice.

He remembered details about everyone, down to their favorite m&m color.

He was a virgin.

He was insanely attractive, yet still single.

His study habits didn’t make sense, he got perfect grades and she had yet to actually see him study (but then again you didn’t try to see him at all).

You could go on and on.

“Knock, knock.” Chad’s voice rang through the apartment.

Two sets of footsteps could be heard and you groaned, Ethan had in fact tagged along. You chugged the rest of your beer, letting the alcohol course through your veins. Sam obviously saw this and brought you another, having it already opened for you.

“If I was into girls, Sam.” he winked at her and she laughed.

Chad and Ethan both sat on the couch and Quinn made you sit up to make room for the rest. Unfortunately for you, when you sat up, Ethan was directly next to you.

“For fucks sake.” you muttered, sinking back into the couch.

Tara and Mindy fought over the movie you all were to watch and you somehow landed on a scary movie you hadn’t heard of, but it was a group thing — you only watched scary movies.

Mindy and Anika were cuddled up and so were Tara and Chad. Quinn and Sam flanked the rest of the group. You and Ethan? You were dreading being in the same room as each other.

Time went and the week’s events and your now 3 beers had caught up with you, you were exhausted and somewhat drunk. Everyone was asleep and you couldn’t help but think how good of an idea it was.

You’d had a busy week, midterms had kicked your ass. You might’ve only slept an average of 3 hours each night. So, sitting still for an extended period of time made sleep want to come quicker. You gave in and let your head fall to the side, not even caring that it landed on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Y/N.” Ethan muttered, trying to make sure you were aware that you had your head on his shoulder — knowing of your hatred toward him.

Unbeknownst to you, the hatred was very much one sided. Ethan had the biggest crush on you. It was almost embarrassing, truly he wondered how you hadn’t noticed yet.

You were one of the main reasons as to why he was still single.

“Shut the fuck up, E.” you waved him off, “I’m aware you’re who i’m laying on, but everyone else is too far away.”

The movie continued to play and you got yourself comfortable, more of your body now lay on Ethan’s. You tried to ignore the feeling that surged through your body at the contact between your bodies. Your bodies were so close that Ethan’s hand almost had to rest on your thigh, you gave him no space to put it anywhere else.

Your eyes were pulled away from the screen when you felt movement on your thigh. Ethan was absentmindedly tapping on your leg and for some reason it was driving you crazy. Each tap from a finger sending electricity through your leg.

It was too much.

So, you jumped up from your spot, successfully making Ethan jump. “Y/N, what the hell?”

You shook your head and stumbled to the kitchen. Time for another beer.

You were quick to open another, number 4.


Before you were joined in the kitchen, by none other than Ethan, you’d downed half of it. His eyes were wide as he reached over to slip it out of your hands. “That’s enough, Y/N.” A laugh fell from his lips.

You pouted, reaching for the bottle, but the boy held it out of reach. “E.” you whined.

The boy faltered, his hand dropping just enough for you to snatch the beer back. Another sip.

“Y/N.” he reached for the beer again.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, some of the beer had spilled. Enough to make Ethan slip when he lunged forward, making him fall, taking you down with him.

Luckily, the fall didn’t hurt you too much, but now you were pinned underneath the boy.

“Ethan, you’re on top of me.” you whined again.

You could feel his heart beating against your chest. Was he nervous?

“Y/N, why do you hate me?” His voice sounded soft, almost as if he were hurt by your hatred.

He looked like a sad puppy and it made your heart hurt.

A sigh fell from your lips, “In all honesty, the only valid reason was that you’re better than me and Econ. My… my academics are all that I have, E. It’s all my parents cared about… you wouldn’t understand.”

Ethan let out a shaky breath, one of his hands came up to your face, his thumb running over your cheek. “I understand more than you know.” Your breath hitched at the skin-to-skin contact.

He must’ve noticed, because his eyes shot back to yours.

“I don’t actually hate you.” you whispered, his brown eyes were captivating.

The curly-headed boy stared at you breathlessly, his eyes now were flickering from yours to your lips. You paused for a second, thinking about what to do next. Should you kiss him, try to escape, or wait for him to grow a pair and kiss you?


All seemed like good options?

However, if you and Ethan did kiss — laying on the kitchen floor covered in beer — you’d have to admit to the others that you didn’t actually hate the boy. In reality, your hatred had just stemmed from an insecurity.

So, you did it. You took the risk and lifted your head off of the ground, closing the small gap between you and Ethan. Your lips connected and it was like the final missing puzzle piece had been found. His lips fit perfectly with yours, no matter how cliche it sounded.

The hand he’d had on your cheek now held the back of your neck, holding your face to his. His heartbeat also hadn’t slowed, if anything, it got faster.

After a few seconds, Ethan pulled away. His cheeks had deeply reddened and both of you were out of breath. For someone who didn’t have experience in the dating department, Ethan kissed scarily well.

“Holy shit, are you guys okay? Your fall woke me up, but I kind of had to figure out where I was first before I came to check.” Anika’s sweet voice caught your attention.

Ethan rolled off of you, both of you startled by the sudden presence of another, his rather large body slamming into the cabinetry. It sounded and looked like it hurt, you’d make sure to check on him later.

“Oh.” She had a devious smirk on her lips, “Did I walk in on something? Y/N did you finally give up on your ‘I hate his guts’ bit? The tension between you to is so-”

You waved your hands to stop her, “Ani! Stop, please.”

She giggled, “And now i’ve got my answer.” Anika playfully waved, skipping back out of the room.

You covered your face with your hands out of embarrassment, trying to ignore the events that had happened. Ethan falling on you, being covered in beer, kissing Ethan, and Anika walking in on the two of you in a rather compromising position.

“Y/N.” Ethan tugged at your wrists, attempting to uncover your face. “I understand if that was a heat of the moment thing, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

His voice sounded small, like earlier.

Your eyes went wide and you dropped your hands, rolling over to your side to face the boy. “No, no, no.” This time it was you who ran a thumb over Ethan’s cheek. “I was stupid to hate you, E! Please don’t think I didn’t want to kiss you, I don’t kiss someone if I don’t want to.”

“But all those guys at the parties-”

“I wanted to.” You laughed at his question, “But you’re different. You’re special, Ethan Landry, and I was too consumed by my own academic agenda to notice.”

He was quiet, but not in a sad way. The boy looked at you with more adoration in his eyes as you’d ever seen someone look at another with.

Then his lips found yours again.

[nerves-nebula]

Every day I’m more and more convinced that despite being largely absent, my dad was the better parent. (Dad rant)

For one thing he’s like a real person who can get vulnerable with us. He has feelings and cares about things. My mom is hidden behind so layers of spite and hatred and bigotry and privilege, I literally don’t know anything about her. She lies and manipulates and shit talks constantly. She never let us know what our dad paid for growing up so we got the impression that he wasn’t giving us very much money at all, when sometimes he was literally giving her like 20k randomly.

There’s a kind of critical family event that happened at some point where my dad gave her some money for my older brother to pay for like college or something, but my older brother got his stuff paid for some other way, so my mom just decided he didn’t need it and spent the money. My brother, being a grade A misogynist, still talks about how Dad was stupid for “trusting a woman with his money” and will sometimes go on insane rants about how dad owes him that money that mom stole from him.

Dad had a life goal & a purpose and has rebuilt peoples homes and entire villages back in Nigeria. He is the reason countless people were able to get an education at all because he thought it was important and cared about it. The only thing my mom cares about is being a housewife and destroying everyone else else’s lives because she married someone who can’t make that a reality for her.

After all the time and money he’s given to her, while he’s like 70 and disabled and NEEDS to be taken care of- she won’t even give him $10 without demanding to know what he’s going to use it for, because she has to decide his reason for wanting 10$ is good enough.

I used to think he was being dramatic when I was a kid, talking about the symbolism behind respect and disrespectful behavior, and how mom is trying to emasculate him, but I genuinely think it’s true now. She’s constantly downplay his (and everyone’s) feelings and opinions. She doesn’t think he’s amounted to anything because all his work (including founding multiple universities!!!) has been in Nigeria, and she doesn’t think of Africa is on par with the US.

Also, and I only just remembered this, but he’s really the only one who took my suicidality seriously. He pulled me out of school for a whole week before midterms just so that we could talk and stuff. It didn’t really help, and didn’t make me want to talk to him about my feelings, and mom was super mad about it- but it was at least SOMETHING. As opposed to the literal NOTHING my mom did and then afterwards admitted she knew I was suicidal. And then forced me to hug her. 

Like hes bad at it, he’s a bigot and a sexist and racist and just plain mean sometimes. But he’s also genuine, he wants to help, he cares about his kids. And when he talks to us, it feels like he is talking to us as people.

My mom didn’t tell me that my sibling was homeless for three years. Actually, she didn’t tell me anything at all. I found that out later from that sibling when they came to visit.

Her favorite trick is to fuck with someone to the point that they explode about something that seems small so that everyone around her will think that they are being the unreasonable person.

Once she forced me to go shopping when I repeatedly said I didn’t want to, and then once we went to the checkout, she mentioned how I would be paying for my own things. She tricked me into spending like $150 a very limited funds that I have been saving up because if I had tried to get out of line or said I wasn’t going to get the coats it would’ve made a scene because we were about to be at the register.

Ok, but now I’m just rambling about shit. The point is. I dunno. The point is that my dad might die soon from medical neglect and financial, emotional, and physical abuse. I guess.

The point is also that my mom has absolutely raised a mass shooter and if my older brother ever kills her and goes on a shooting spree I will be not surprised at all. I’ll be on the fucking news saying nobody who knew him could possibly be surprised by this outcome. Literally everyone saw this coming.

[1d1195]

I would NEVER purposely skip a post of yours! especially Zipper! I love you and them too much to do that!

So Im not on the semester system, it's actually the quarter system! Which means I have 10 weeks of instruction and 1 week of finals! So I will be finishing up my second out of the three in the academic year. Truly hell lol midterms start the end of the 2nd week for some classes.... like today (Tuesday) I had my 3rd and final math midterm and our final exam is this Saturday. Truly insane lol OMG ALSO THIS WAS MY LAST DAY WITH MY HOT PROFESSOR 😭😭😭 so sad about that because I wont get to see that man anymore! LIKE WHERE IS MY MOTIVATION GONNA COME FROM NOW?! and we had our final presentations today and I got a compliment from him and dear god that sliver of praise made me dizzy😵‍💫

ANYWAYS! Im glad you have other writers as a support system!!! and yes! miss fireflies is so kind in general! and it's good to vent especially with someone you're comfortable with!

Im glad you're feeling a bit better about it! It's okay to have those feelings and sometimes you just have to feel them. I think overall tumblr has been a bit "slow" in general but maybe a middle of the week post may help? Like a little treat to keep going until the weekend? IDK either way you know your readers vibe so whatever you decided to do will be good!

ABAHAH OMG WE ARE BOTH BROWN HAIRED AND EYED GIRLIES CONSTANTLY OVERWHELMED!!! truly an accurate description of myself lol you're not alone at least!

and im kinda honored that you thought it was me?! liar is SO ME coded due to the lack of allowing myself to experience good things in life but that's a different story lol like Im about to fangirl for a bit but they did this podcast called song explore and they went into detail of how they made it in terms of instrumentation and all and UGH THIS WAS SO GOOD! i don't think ive ever mentioned it before but I was a musician so learning the details of the composition was a gift! Also if you ever need sad song inspo i got you bc the majority of my playlist is depressing lol

ANWAYSSSSSSSSSS im glad im back too! Hope you're well and that your week is good!!!-💜

Omg I would never think you purposefully didn’t read something! But still, you know I don’t expect you to read everything; I kind of thought you forgot and I sort of anticipated a follow up message! 💕😉

QUARTERS of course! I don’t hear of too many schools doing that so I totally forgot that exists. Well that makes more sense. That’s so overwhelming, V, I’m sorry :( I’m sure you’re used to it now but I would cry everyday so I have no doubt you’re doing phenomenally and I’m so proud of you!!! Omg RIP hot professor. I’m going to miss him 😭 you should go to his office hours if you need help with another class every once in a while just to say hi 😉😉

I would die without Miss Firefly having to put up with me all the time 😂

I didn’t know you were a musician!!! I’m musically DE-clined so I could never but that’s amazing. You have to be SUPER smart 😭 I can sing a little but I’m not good at instruments or composition or anything. God bless.

Every time I think my weeks can’t get crazier, they do 😂 but I’m alright. Excited to do NOTHING on Saturday

Xoxo

P.S. I think it’s cute we’re both brown haired and brown eyed 💕

[notnctu]

backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst  wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi​​​ ; @darkneogotmyback​​​ ; @im-lame-irl​​​ ; @p-mini​​​ ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck​​​ ; @saniahmichael​​ ; @jaehy9ngs​​​ ; @danyxthirstae01​​​ ; @jaehyunoos​​​ ; @pikijaemin​​​ ; @suhweo​​​ ; @yunoyeol​​​ ; @lanadreamie​​​ ; @ta3ilmoon​​​ ; 

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating. 

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart. 

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well. 

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.  

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you. 

[reverie-starlight]

can i request Semi and his s/o are very busy and when they finally get together, s/o gets sick and she feels bad because she thinks she ruined the date.

Yes ofc!!! This is such a cute ask 😭 and I’M SO SORRY it took me this long to write it, anon, I hope you can forgive me!! School has been insanely busy and I’m still getting used to university life, so writing kind of had to take a back seat for a bit (and still might, considering I have my first midterm on Oct.7th). 

Also- I am currently a little bit sick, so I definitely modeled the reader after myself with how they act in this fic :’)

{a change of plans - semi. e}

GN!reader

Genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF i got butterflies writing this :’)

Warnings: none, just absolute fluff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light shone through the curtains of your bedroom as you rolled around in your sheets, trying to get comfortable after being rudely woken up by your alarm. When that task proved to be impossible, you groaned and rubbed a hand over your eyes. Something felt off with, but you were still too sleepy to put a finger on it. 

It wasn’t until you tried to sit up and the room started spinning that you realized-

You felt like shit.

You groaned once again and flopped back into bed. Reaching over for you phone, you checked the date and frowned. Guilt pooled in your stomach. 

It was Friday- your day off, which meant you could rest, but you and your boyfriend had been trying to plan a date for weeks now. School and work kept getting in the way, and your schedules finally seemed to align this weekend, starting today. 

But now it looked like you’d have to cancel again to prevent him from getting sick. 

Semi was meant to come over around lunchtime and spend the weekend at your place, starting with a date tonight at a fancy restaurant, so there was still enough time to call him and let him know, but if you were being honest with yourself, all you wanted in that moment was to be cuddled up in his arms as he ran a hand up and down your back. If you could admit one thing about yourself, it was that you got incredibly needy for him while feeling sick. 

It wasn’t fair that you hadn’t actually spent any quality time together in the last few weeks and now you were getting frustrated with yourself for getting sick on the one weekend you finally could. Thoughts of pretending to be fine and having him over anyway popped up. 

However, you knew telling him the truth was the only option here. He had shows next week, and you would hate to infect him and take him away from those. Not to mention he’d also be out of his day job for a couple days.

Plus, after an intense coughing fit and a sneeze, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fake your health anyway. 

So you slowly sat up again and pressed the call button on his contact with teary eyes. It took a few rings for him to pick up, but when you heard his voice on the line, you sniffed. “Eita?” 

“Baby? Hey, what’s wrong?” He was obviously woken up by your call, but the sleepiness in his voice was soon overtaken by sweet concern at the sound of your scratchy voice. 

“Eita, I’m sick. I woke up with a cold and now you can’t come over because I don’t want to get you sick too, and I’m so so so so sorry that I got sick this weekend, I miss you and I know we were both looking forward to it and now I’ve ruined it and-” you broke into another fit of coughs.

“Hey y/n, calm down, it’s okay,” his voice was calming and slow and successfully soothed you. He waited for you to finish coughing before continuing. “You didn’t ruin anything, alright? It’s not your fault that you got sick. Just relax for a bit, try to get some more sleep.” 

You frowned. “Are you sure? Eita, I’m really sorry. I miss you so much.” Your voice cracked at the end as you fought back some tears. 

 “I’m sure. I miss you too, but please rest up. I’m coming over anyway.”

Your eyes widened. “Eita, wait-”

“Nope. You can’t convince me to stay home, I want to come and take care of you.” 

Your heart swelled. You felt guilty that he might end up sick, but he was insisting so you thanked him instead. 

“Of course, baby, anything for you. I’ll let myself in with the key in case you’re asleep by time I get there. Love you, bye.”

He hung up after that, and you stared at the black screen for a minute after that before smiling a bit. You loved your boyfriend so much. 

Despite him telling you to sleep some more, you wanted to get up and tidy the house like you originally planned. A foggy head and sore throat wasn’t enough to stop you. Being awake and moving around usually helps with feeling better. You always feel worse in the morning when you’re sick. 

Plus, laying in bed any longer without your boyfriend might just end up making you more touch starved than you already were.

So you got done with your morning routine and headed into the living room to tidy up a bit. An hour later, when you were on the couch with a blanket and some tea, you heard the lock of your front door turning and instantly smiled. 

After some fumbling, Semi finally walked through the door with his overnight bag among other things and headed right for your kitchen. You giggled a bit as he looked over to the couch then did a double take. “I thought I told you to get some sleep, my love.”

You just put your arms out for him and he set down his bags before diving for you. You laughed as he wrapped his arms around you and got as close as possible. Moving your head away from him, you said “Eita, I just wanted a quick hug, if you get too close, you’ll get sick too!”

He nuzzled even closer to you and kissed along your jaw and cheeks. “We do this every time you get sick, beautiful, when are you going to realize that I don’t care about getting sick? Also, I missed you, let me smother you a bit.”

You tried to hide your smile from him but he saw it and leaned in closer so that his breath was on your face. “Besides,” he whispered, “we both know that you turn into the biggest baby when you’re not feeling well and you get so needy for me.” 

This time you couldn’t hide your smile and you whined. “Eitaaaa, don’t tease me, I’m vulnerable right now.” 

He laughed and apologized with more littered kisses across your face. You started laughing a bit, too, enjoying the attention you were getting, but you cringed as you turned your face away from him and coughed into your sleeve. 

He stroked your cheek with his knuckles when you were done, frowning. “I’m sorry you’re sick, baby, I brought you some medicine if you want.”

You shook your head. “I haven’t eaten yet, I don’t want to take it on an empty stomach.” 

“I brought food if you want something. We can call it brunch. Or we can just wait until lunchtime comes, but I think some food might do you good. Your face is warm, but you’re shivering.”

You hummed and leaned into his hand, eyes closed. “Mmm, yes please. Food sounds good.”

He smiled fondly at you and kissed your forehead. He got up and handed you your tea, which had been placed on the table beside you when you beckoned him for a hug. 

“I love you, y/n, I’m always going to take care of you when you’re not well, you know that right? And really don’t worry about our date, baby, we’ll make it fun from home.”

You gave him a shy grin. “Thank you, Eita, I love you too.”

He kissed your cheek and then he was off to the kitchen to prepare your food.

An hour later when you were done eating and your medicine was kicking in, you turned to Semi and looked at him expectantly. You fiddled with your hands a bit and tapped your foot on the ground. You weren’t good at asking for the things you wanted.

He raised an eyebrow and scanned your body language before breaking out into a tender smile. “Would you like some affection now, sweetheart?”

You nodded and immediately went into his arms. As an adult, and also someone who was always giving your all to others, you rarely got the chance to be taken care of and babied in return. So when you were sick (and even when you weren’t sometimes, to be honest), Semi took it upon himself to be the one to pamper you and love on you a little extra the way you deserved.

And you took full advantage of that.

He pulled you onto his lap and you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into it as well. When he stood up, you wrapped your legs around him and he began the trek back to the bedroom.

He tried to set you down on the bed, but you giggled and held on tighter so that he physically had to pry you off of him. One of his hands held you protectively on your back, the other pinched your side, causing you to squeal and let go of him. He laughed when you fell back onto the bed and followed you down so that he was laying in on top of you.

You frowned and lightly pushed him off, lying down by the headboard, and he followed suit once again. His front was calling to you and you flopped on top of him, finally getting what you’ve been waiting for since you woke up.

He rubbed your back soothingly up and down as your face nuzzled into his chest. Instant waves of comfort washed upon you. Sweet nothings were murmured into your ear. “You really are just a big cuddly baby deep down, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Starting to fall asleep, you just nodded along making him snort. “My baby.”

You smiled and planted a kiss right on his chest, not caring that his t-shirt now had lip balm on it. “Thank you for everything, Eita. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, y/n. Now get some rest. When you wake up from your nap we can get take out and watch a movie.”

You drifted off into a peaceful sleep shortly after that.

Thank you for reading!!! Sorry this took so long, once again, but I’m happy with this!! I’m literally the biggest baby when I’m sick and just want to be held, so if this is too cheesy for you, I’m very sorry but it’s what I needed to write at this point 😭

Please reblog!! <3

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ starting prompt: “Everything changed for me when I met her... My Beloved.”

♡ pairing: yandere! damian wayne (Robin) & fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “imagine me and you? I do. I think about day and night, it’s only right, to think about the girl you love and hold her tight. so happy together.” 

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / in this AU everyone in the batfamily is a yandere and probably has a darling so yeah.

Gotham Academy, for the wealthy and elite one might say. you were one of the lucky ones who got accepted through their scholarship programs and busted your ass off to keep your grades up all years. 

you had very few friends considering most Academy students hardly interacted those who they deemed poor. one friend you did have though was the Wayne heir himself. Damian was one of the first to introduce himself to you when you first arrived to Gotham Academy and really remained your friend throughout the years. 

the fresh morning air blew in the wind, making you pull your jacket closer to you as you tried to find warmth in it. the jackets they provided for your uniform were extremely thin and hardly held in any kind of heat. 

“hey! I think the Wayne kid is looking for you!” you heard your friend, Reagan tell you, “he’s waiting for you at the central garden!” you gave him a smile, thanking him for letting you know before running to where Damian usually was in the morning. 

your mornings with Damian, when he would attend school, would start with him bringing you your favorite coffee and switching homework assignments. 

unlike Damian, you were usually better in courses that had to do with humanities, such as history and english courses and you lacked the smarts that Damian had with science and math courses so the two of you would swap homework first thing in the morning. 

“good morning Wayne,” you said, sitting down on the bench. he handed you his coffee, blowing it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, “good morning, beloved. how did you sleep?” he asked, making sure your eye bags weren’t too harsh. 

you shrugged, “I’m okay. just stressed because of midterms and all of that. how did you sleep?” you asked, taking a sip of coffee. “great considering we fell asleep on Facetime together,” he mentioned, “I did the ap calc homework that you can finally copy!” he added on. 

Damian handed you the calc homework as he watched you scribble down the answers. he noticed that you had painted your nails a new color and touched the polish with his finger, “baby blue? that’s new,” he murmured. you nodded happily, “I love this color on me. I even brought color with me in case it chipped throughout the day!” you exclaimed. 

you showed him the bottle and he grabbed it, “put it on me,” you were taken back by the request. you didn’t take Damian was the kind of guy to dabble in wearing polish but nevertheless complied and put the polish on it before grabbing his hand and blowing on it to make it dry quicker, “I didn’t know you wore nail polish!” you mentioned. 

Damian thought for a moment. 

“I don’t but that way people will know we’re matching,” he murmured as the warning bell rang off. 

you and Damian walked slowly to your first period class. the summer going into your Senior year, Damian made it a duty of his to make sure that the two of you shared the same classes. so without you knowing, he had Tim hack into the Gotham Academy school system and pull Damian onto the rosters where you were enrolled in. 

you found the similarities to be funny, however; some of the teachers wondered how the hell they put the two of you in every class together. some didn’t care considering you were able to keep Damian from saying smart shit to someone in class and others were just weirded out by the coincidence. 

“god, I hate this class. you know Matt who sits in front of the class? I have to swear some gross comment about how great my legs look in the uniform by him at least twice every day.” 

Damian’s eye twitched at what you had said, “does it bother you?” he asked, his fist clenched. you nodded annoyingly, “more than anything in the world. I can’t go one day without hearing the comments,” you groaned. 

the two of you got to class but as you walked in, you had saw that Matt wasn’t in class and sighed in relief. Damian had told you he was running off to the bathroom before class started and just to write down whatever he missed while he was gone. 

you sat down, immediately writing what was already on the board but as the class started, Damian still hadn’t shown up. you were beginning to think that maybe the coffee had upset his stomach but about half way through the class, Damian came and plopped down at his desk. 

“where were you? Jackson nearly had a fit because you were late!” you muttered to him. he shrugged, taking out his pen and notebook before leaning over to copy what you had on yours.

it took about another twenty minutes when another teacher ran into the class frantically, “Matthew Harrison was just found in the garden, unconscious and is barely hanging onto his life!” the teacher told your teacher, making all of you gasp in surprise, “call an ambulance!” 

you stared to Damian wide eyed, “my God, that’s insane! we were just there. I wonder who did it,” you told Damian, chewing your lip nervously, “I hope whoever did it doesn’t come for any of us.”

Damian could tell you were scared from the news and he quickly grabbed your hand, “I think you’re safe, beloved. you shouldn’t worry about it,” he assured you. you nodded, going back to writing down the notes, “hey, he finally got what he deserved for harassing you, right?” Damian mentioned. 

you laughed shaking your head, “I guess but I mean, I hope he doesn’t die or anything,” that was the last thing you said before the both of you got to working on the work the teacher assigned for the class while she was gone.

Damian could tell you were shaken by the news but at the end of the day, he did what he had to do. someone was harassing his beloved and he’d be damned if they got away with it. it took every ounce of self restriction to stop himself from actually killing the idiot but the beating he actually gave him did more than enough to satisfy him for the time being.

two broken legs, a broken nose, and making him go blind in one eye was more than enough. the great thing about Gotham Academy was that because of how old the building was, cameras weren’t installed anywhere outside and any cameras that were inside were just in the upgraded part of the school which happened to be the front of the school and the gym. 

the end of the day came as Damian had offered to take you home. you denied the request, telling him you wanted to walk to get some fresh air before you trapped yourself in your room for the rest of the night. 

Damian was hesitant on letting you but at the end of the day, you weren’t his...yet. he knew his feelings for you weren’t exactly normal. far from it, actually. 

when his feelings for you boiled over to damn near obsession, he confided in the one person he trusted the most and that was Dick. he practically confessed how he needed to be near or around you every day or else he would go insane. even if it was just seeing you from afar made his day a 100x better. 

Dick laughed at his brothers confession because he knew it was about time it happened to him. he had gone through the same feelings when he met his now wife and so did Bruce, Tim, Duke, and Jason. 

when Damian was finally confident enough to tell everyone else, they finally let him in on the family secret. these feelings were nothing to be afraid of. he should embrace them and hell, make his feelings get even ‘worse’. it was his job as your protector to feel that way and act on his instincts for you. 

Damian got home, seeing his father and brother watching the news. they were covering what happened at school and a part of him laughed seeing the coverage. 

“did you see what happened?” Dick asked his brother. Damian nodded, kicking off his shoes and laying on the other couch, “of course I did because I was the one who did it,” he said nonchalantly. 

Bruce and Dick stared at him, wide eyed and shocked, “the scum was messing with my beloved. he was making disgusting comments about her and degrading her in a way she and I didn’t like. the piece of shit deserved more than what he got,” he stated, not even bothering to look at them to see their reaction.

“so it’s best we don’t investigate this, I assume?” Bruce asked, “you would assume right,” Damian replied. 

Dick got off the couch and went on one knee to look at his brother, “Damian, you know the implications that comes with how you left him. you know that, right?” he stated. Damian stared at Dick with no fear in his eyes, “everything changed for me when I met her... my beloved. I would kill for her if I had too.” 

Bruce sat in his seat, proudly smirking at what his son said. Dick nodded, walking back to the couch as Damian stood up to go to his bedroom, “it’s only a matter of what before I make her mine so expect her to be around soon enough,” he told them.

+

a few weeks had passed since the incident with your classmate. since then, you had gotten clingier to Damian, not wanting to be at the end of the beating. Daimian had no issue in it, he was practically basking in the touches and side hugs you were giving him. 

you and Damian had decided to head back to his place after school to get some studying done. Friday nights were usually reserved to studying at your place but Damian had offered to make you dinner at his place and study before watching a few movies. 

you had never been over the Wayne manor before and frankly, you were kind of scared to run into his father. THE Bruce Wayne would most likely be in attendance and meeting the most powerful man in Gotham would probably scare anyone. 

Damian unlocked the gate, quickly taking your backpack as you snuggled into his jacket. you were immediately welcomed by his butler, Alfred who offered to put both of you bags in the hallway so no one would step over them. you thanked him profusely, making Damian mutter to you that that’s why he was here. to serve you. 

“so, what would you like to eat, beloved? I can make you anything you desire,” he boasted. you looked at the cookbook that was laid next to you and flipped through the first few pages, “this sounds nice,” you pointed to the plant based steak with veggies.

Damian quickly got to work, making the veggies first as he offered for you taste them every now and again. you would usually relay a kiss on his cheek as he finally got to cooking the steak. you couldn’t help but wonder how he got to be such a great cook, however; as he was finishing plating the food, you saw his father as well as you assumed were his brothers. 

“uh Damian?” you mentioned, pointing to the three men who walked in. Damian sighed knowing that of course his brothers were going to come and annoy him, “who’s your friend?” Dick asked, putting his chin on his hand. 

“this is ( your name ), my beloved,” he told them proudly. you were a bit taken back by the nickname he so easily used on you, “ahh, we’ve heard so much about you,” Tim continued, “she’s so pretty....she’s not like other girls,” Dick mocked. 

your face felt a burning sensation as Bruce told his sons to be quiet, “nice to meet you ( your name ),” Bruce introduced, “welcome to the family,” you barely caught what he said as Damian excused the two of you to go up to his bedroom. 

“your family is...nice,” you tried to say without sounding nervous. Damian rolled his eyes, “they’re bunch of idiots. that’s what they are,” he muttered, not bothering to look back at them. 

once you got to his room, your mouth dropped a bit. you had never seen such a luxurious bedroom before. satin sheets, the coldest pillows, his bedroom could probably house a family if he really wanted too and the fact that this was his bedroom, you were taken back. 

“wow, so this is how the rich and famous live?” you joked, sitting down on his bed. he shook his head, “all this means nothing to me...as long as you’re with me, I’d be the happiest person alive,” you stared at Damian, wondering if what he said was really true. 

the two of you ate, mostly in silence as you tried to take what Damian had said. there had been rumors floating around Gotham Academy that Damian might’ve liked you. you tried to dispel the rumors, claiming that someone like you was no where near Damian’s type but now that you were hearing the words he was telling you, you were more keen on acting on his feelings. 

after finishing dinner, he offered for you to join him on his bed to watch a movie. you had never actually gotten to hang out with Damian outside of school. since you were always so busy doing schoolwork and Damian always had things to take care of, as he put it, you two never relaxed together. 

the aura in the room was cozy as he offered you a very expensive looking blanket to cover you up from the chilly air coming from his window. the movie the two of you picked was some random rom-com, it felt kind of stupid to be watching this kind of movie with Damian but at some point, you stopped paying attention to the movie and looked up to him. 

“did you really mean what you said earlier?” you whispered to him. he gave you a confused look, “of course I did. would I ever lie to you?” he said back, kind of offended that you would even accuse him of lying. 

you sat back up on the bed and turned to fix yourself as you finally gave him a kiss. Damian’s eyes widened, not expecting you to do that to him. regardless, he immediately pulled you on top of him and deepened the kiss by pushing you up against him. 

Damian slid his hands in the back pocket of your skirt, finding it a bit confusing why the uniforms even had pockets on the skirts. he gripped your ass a bit, making you moan in surprise as Damian tried his hardest to contain himself but failing as he slipped his tongue into yours. 

the two of you remained kissing for what felt like hours. you knew your lips were bound get bruised from the amount of tugging Damian was doing but by the time you pulled away, you could see the faintest of blushes appearing on Damian’s brown skin. 

“wow, didn’t know you felt like that for me,” you muttered shyly. Damian chuckled, giving you a quick peck, “I have feelings you wouldn’t even begin to understand but one day....one day you will,” he replied. 

you didn’t pay no mind to his reply as he had brought you down for another kiss. what you didn’t catch was the smirk playing on his face. he knew that once graduation came, there would already be a ring on that left ring finger and soon enough, you’d be baring his heirs. 

the Wayne’s got what they wanted. it didn’t matter what they had to do to get it but what the Wayne’s wanted, they got. 

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part II

[ previous ] 

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 10.2k

Warnings: specific character attributes (not appearance, mentioned favorite color, movie, etc.), oral, rough sex, multiple orgasms, Erwin is kind of annoying, semi-exhibitionism, too much testosterone  A/N: And, here we go again. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first part and told me about it. This one’s for y’all~

Mike immediately notices when you start to avoid him. You had already been doing it, but now it's to the point of ducking into buildings you have no business being in and walking a little too briskly when you catch sight of him somewhere on campus. You also won't get anywhere near the Pi Kappa Alpha house.

 And, he gets it. He fucked up that night. Or, he didn't fuck up, but he opened up. Too much. Showed that he was willing to be vulnerable, and you obviously had not liked that. 

 The first week of watching you duck and cover from afar isn't so bad. He's a little bummed, yeah, but he figures you'll come around, if not for him then at least for his dick. 

 But, one week turns to two, and Mike gets irritated, a little angry even. Because it's not like he did anything wrong. It's not like you haven't wanted it every time. 

 He doesn't know your class schedule exactly, but he does know when you get out of your 11 AM and have to cross the courtyard to your dorm. It's where Mike caught you last time when he was playing frisbee with Nile, and it's where he catches you now. 

 Your speed walking is no match for his normal stride, and he easily closes the distance between you two and grabs your wrist to tug you toward a more private area by the library. 

 "What the fu—what are you doing?" You spit, pulling yourself free. 

 "What are you doing?"

 "Trying to get to my fucking room to nap! Is that okay?" 

 Mike ignores it, glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching, then asks, "Why are you avoiding me?" 

 Scoffing, you mumble an unconvincing, "I haven't been avoiding you."

 "Bullshit."

 "I've just been busy, okay? Midterms are coming up, and I'm falling behind…" He can tell you're lying by the way you can't meet his eyes. "I need to focus."

 "Am I that big of a distraction?" 

 You don't miss a beat—"Yes," and your eyes widen at your own answer like you're surprised by it. 

 Mike raises his eyebrows, taken off guard, and you try to cover your tracks. "I mean, like, I don't have time to be fucking frat boys. And, I know you have the pick of the litter, so it's not like you'll go without." 

 He has to bite his tongue, a confession right on the tip of it—I pick you—but knows that's the last thing you want to hear. It's too early for thoughts like that anyway. You're too closed off, and he's too transparent. It's not like anything serious could work out anyway, and even if it could, he shouldn't tie himself down. 

 "I mean, yeah, but—"

 You hold a hand up, take a deep breath. "Look, I'll be honest with you. You seem like an okay guy, but you should find some other girl to do this with. I don't wanna be another notch on your bedpost—"

 "Then, don't be. We can just hang out."

 "Yeah, we tried that at the party and still ended up sleeping together."

 "We can make it a rule then." He's trying too hard, he knows, but he can't help it. "No fucking. I won't come onto you, and you won't come onto me."

 You snort and pick at the hem of your shirt, obviously not buying any of this. "Why do you wanna be friends so bad anyway? Is it the hard-to-get thing? Is it that I'm making it difficult?"

 "Maybe but not entirely."

 Why does he want to be your friend so badly? You haven't given him any real reason to. You can bond over nerd shit here and there, but other than that, you don't have a lot in common. 

 You just seem… Cool. Aloof. Like you don't give a shit about anyone or anything, and Mike never thought he'd find that attractive in a girl, but apparently he does. 

 "Just come over one more time. We can watch something again or—"

 "I'm not going into your room again!"

 "You don't have to," Mike says, speaking with his hands to emphasize his point. "We can stay in the living room. Totally public. Any of the guys could walk in."

 "Has that ever stopped any of you before?"

 Not a hundred percent of the time. Mike has definitely seen more of Erwin and Gelgar than he'd like, but he can tell a little white lie.

 "Yes." 

 You stare up at him, a skeptical look on your face, and then, "I'll see if I can pencil you in." 

 "Fuck yeah, I promise I'll show you a good time without, like, showing you a good time." 

 "Yeah, whatever." 

 You're unimpressed, turn to walk away, but Mike is feeling a little too triumphant, a little too bold, and catches you before you can get too far. 

 He premises, "Just to get it out of my system," then bends down and kisses you. Palms covering your cheeks, fingers curling around the back of your head kisses you. He uses both of his thumbs, just under your mouth, to part your lips so that he can slide his tongue past them, and you push at his chest half-heartedly, no real force to it as you let him lick into your mouth. 

 The first whimper that escapes you is what makes you break away, your hands stronger against him to shove him back, and Mike smirks when you glare at him. 

 "You're on thin fucking ice, Zacharias. Thin ice."

 "I'll keep it in mind."

 With that, you leave the little alcove the two of you were in, grumbling and cursing the whole way. Mike just watches the sway of your hips and licks his lips. 

 *

 You come over on a Saturday afternoon. Mike can tell you've tried to make yourself look not cute in loose, ripped jeans and a t-shirt, but it doesn't work. Mike still smiles, and you still roll your eyes at him before kicking your shoes off by the door. 

 "Okay, so what are we doing?" You ask, sitting two cushions away from him on the couch. 

 "I brought my Switch in here, so we have that…"

 "Oh, do you have the SNES games downloaded?" 

 "Dumb question. Of course I do."

 "Rude. Open that shit up."

 He does, and you demand to play Donkey Kong, which Mike has no problem with, but, "A please would be nice."

 You click your tongue, holding your hand out for the second tiny controller and tell him, "You don't get to hear me beg anymore."

 Mike feels his shorts tighten, but all he does is kick a foot over his thigh and warn you, "Best not test my self-control like that."

 "Is that a threat?" You laugh, toggling down to 'Two Player' on the screen and clicking it. 

 "Not a threat." He bobs his head to the theme music. "Just lettin’ you know."

 You get as far as Mine Cart Carnage together, but Mike ends up getting tossed from the cart, leaving you to take over as Diddy. He watches the way you move with your character, sitting up straighter, raising the controller to your chest, swaying one way then the next as if your body is tied directly to the game. 

 Erwin walks in a little while later when you're focused on Stop & Go Station. He sits down in a plush chair, phone in his hand that he ignores in favor of asking, "What are you guys doing out here? Shouldn't you be in Mike's room?"

 Mike glances at him, gives him a look and shakes his head, but you're much less subtle when you snap, "Can it, Smith," eyes never leaving the screen. 

 "Don't count on that," Mike snorts. "I think it’s physically impossible for him to keep his mouth shut for longer than four seconds." 

 "Wooow," Erwin drawls, thick eyebrows high in offense. "I'm supposed to be able to trust you, and now you're just talking shit right in front of me."

 "For some reason, I get the feeling your ego can't get bruised that easily," you muse out loud. 

 "I'll have you know I can be very sensitive," Erwin informs you matter-of-factly. "I have a heart. I have feelings. And, I've been told on multiple occasions that I'm more considerate than most men, so there."

 You laugh, a silly sound that gets stuck in your throat. "Oh, really? And how many of those women—'cause that's what they are, I'm sure—were left behind after they built you up like that, hm?"

 Biting both of his lips, Erwin sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. "I plead the fifth on that one."

 "Uh huh, that's what I thought."

 While you're fixated on the screen, Mike glances over at his friend, sees blue eyes shining as Erwin stares at you, a tell-tale smirk on his face. He's amused by you. Interested, even. 

 You stay for about an hour longer before going back to the dorms. As soon as the front door shuts, Mike swivels around and points a finger at Erwin, uttering a low, "Don't you dare," that makes the blond chuckle. 

 "Wouldn't dream of it."

 *

 You mostly hang out on weekends and only in small bursts. Alternating between movies and video games, it's a little hard to speak to one another, but Mike is still able to pry some information out of you and share more about himself. 

 You're majoring in geological and earth sciences while Mike is working toward a degree in environmental science— "Kinda weird we haven't run into each other before." 

 You played basketball for a year in high school before getting annoyed by the other girls. Mike, on the other hand, made some of his best friends on his old soccer team. 

 You had a ferret growing up and now you'll "Never get another pet again 'cause when he died, I died a little with him." (It's the first time Mike has ever seen tears in your eyes, but you blink them away at record speed). He tells you about the dogs his family has had and how the one at home with his parents now is actually his. (Her name's Scout, and I would take a bullet for her.") 

 Hitch is your best friend even though she irritates the shit out of you, and Mike says something similar about Erwin. "He's a good guy. He's just… Passionate about so many things. He gets obsessive. Drives me insane."

 "Obsessed with that pussyyy," you joke in a deep, stupid voice. 

 Mike snorts, "Perv," and keeps watching the movie that's playing. 

 And, speaking of movies, your favorite Disney film is The Fox and The Hound— "Good taste," while his is Lion King— "Classic." As far as other movies, though, the two of you spend half an hour arguing over which Mel Brooks is the best, end up having to agree to disagree (Young Frankenstein vs. High Anxiety).

 Your favorite color is green. Your favorite food is pizza (“What are you, twelve?”). Your favorite animal is the pangolin. They’re all little facts that Mike stores away, and by the end of the semester, he actually feels like he kind of knows you, and somehow, against all odds, you've managed to not hookup through it all. 

 That's not to say it hasn't been hard (that he hasn't been hard). Sometimes you come over in skin tight jeans or crop tops, outfits that accentuate your body in all the right ways, and Mike is pretty sure that you do it on purpose. 

 You're both careful not to drink too much at parties, aware of the likely consequences, but you hang around him enough to gain people's attention—jealous girls watching in disappointment, curious guys sizing you up. 

 Questions inevitably arise. You complain about Hitch pestering you for details that you will not give her, and he tells you how he has to keep brushing off his brothers. 

 "She doesn't, like, know we've had sex—would never fucking leave me alone if she did. But she and all her other little friends are so annoying about it."

 You're on the steps outside of the frat house, jackets zipped up, nursing steaming cups of cocoa you got from the nearby shop. 

 "So, what do you tell them?" Mike asks. 

 You shrug your shoulders. "That we're not fucking. Just friends. They don't believe me, but that's my story, and I'm sticking to it, dammit."

 Mike laughs through his nose and takes another drink. "I mean, it's not a lie since we're not fucking and we are friends."

 You make a high pitched noise, doubtful, challenging. "Friends is a strong word."

 "Whatever." 

 He's used to you doing that now, denying him every chance you get even in a joking way. You've never once admitted to any type of feelings out loud, and he isn't sure why, some kind of avoidance behavior, but he won't complain because he knows you're at least a little fond of him. You wouldn't keep spending time with him if you weren't. 

 Deciding to change the subject, Mike prompts, "So, Erwin's party over the break," and you glance at him over your cup with interest. "You're coming, right?" 

 "I don't know. Isn't it at, like, his ranch house in bum fuck nowhere?" 

 "Kinda. It's only about a two hour drive from here, but it's definitely off the beaten path."

 "I'll have to see. Need to spend time with my mom while I can." 

 Understandable. He's looking forward to seeing his own parents (and Scout, of course). 

 The last game of the season is played and won, then finals pass after too many all-nighters and too much Red Bull. Mike actually sighs in relief when he slides into his white Wrangler, all packed up and ready to make the drive back to his house. 

 He sends one text before pulling out onto the main road—Be safe—and hopes he won't have to wait an entire month to see you again. 

*

 Staying with your mom is nice but always slightly depressing. The house is empty with just her in it, less lived in than ever before. You can tell exactly which spots she spends most of her time in—her office to work and the couch in front of the TV to wind down. 

 You sleep in your old bedroom, spend most evenings texting Hitch after your mom goes to bed, but a few conversations with Mike slip in too. He sends you several pictures of Scout—beautiful but always wearing one of those perpetual Boxer frowns—and in return, you send him pictures of the pretty betta your mother has in her office. It's the best you can do. 

 After a week of being in your hometown, you're ready to leave it again. It's not terrible or in a bad part of town. It's just… lacking. You'd never tell your mother this, but you have a feeling she knows. It's probably why she doesn't put up a fight when you tell her you're gonna run off for a couple days to attend Erwin's party. 

 "I promise I'll be back. It's just one night and then the drive back."

 Her tone is very serious when she tells you to stay out of trouble, but then she walks you out to your car and hugs you, watching and waving as you drive away. 

 You text Erwin on the way there to ask if it's okay to arrive early—like a few hours early cause I needed to get out of my house—and he replies enthusiastically.

 Absolutely! Mike and Levi are already here 😃

 You have no idea who this Levi is outside of hearing Erwin mention him a few times, but you very quickly find out when you get to the large but secluded house. You see Erwin's stupid (gorgeous) vintage Mustang parked in the gravel driveway as well as Mike's white Jeep and an unfamiliar, black Prius. 

 All three of them are on the porch occupying outdoor chairs that probably cost more than your fucking dorm expenses, but Mike and Erwin both stand when you make your way up the sidewalk. Staying seated, or really sprawled out with his hands behind his head, is a fairly small man (boy, maybe) with inky hair and sunglasses covering his eyes. He’s dressed much differently than the other two, ripped jeans, Doc Martens, and a striped long sleeved shirt under a short sleeved band tee. 

 “What in the e-boy fuck…” You mutter to yourself, nodding at the blonds and letting Mike take your backpack—not that you really have a choice considering your grip on it is no match for his. 

 “Was the drive okay?” He asks, swinging the bag over his shoulder and making it look incredibly small. 

 “Yeah. Once I hit the backroads I could start going, like, eighty-five, so that shaved some time off.”

 Mike snorts. “You sound like Erwin. Dude’s always speeding.”

 “Don’t fucking start with me. I was in the car with you when you almost hit a pedestrian on a crosswalk.”

 “We don’t talk about that.”

 Everyone follows Erwin inside the house. It’s just as nice as you thought it’d be, sprawling and open with wood floors, plush furniture, and rustic decorations. There are moose antlers mounted in one room and a god damned bear head in another. It makes you roll your eyes, but to say you’re unimpressed would be a flat out lie. 

 “Not everyone is staying the night, but I know you have to, so just pick an upstairs room,” Erwin tells you after the grand tour. “I can take you around on the golf cart once you settle in.”

 You see Mike roll his green eyes and amend, “We can take you around.” 

 “Yeah,” Erwin nods. “That’s what I meant.”

 Levi is making a face up at Erwin, furrowed brow, squinty eyes, and a little grimace. He hasn’t said more than two words to you since you’ve arrived (“I’m Levi.”), but he doesn’t seem like the chatterbox type, a little more standoffish, and you can’t blame him for that. 

 “Just in case you’re wondering, I’m in the middle room,” Mike tells you with a grin.

 “And why, pray tell, would I be wondering that?”

 He basically sings in his deep voice, “No reason,” then walks back downstairs with Erwin and Levi, leaving you to make yourself comfortable. 

 You take the bedroom at the far end of the hallway out of spite more than anything, but you figure the farther away you can be from Mike the better. After setting your things down and organizing deodorant, perfume, and every day jewelry on the dresser, you join the guys downstairs to find them huddling over the kitchen island talking about plans for the night. 

 “Should we get a keg? It won’t be that many people, but it might be easier to just pour from one,” Erwin thinks out loud. 

 “Don’t bother getting a keg if it’s gonna be the same shitty beer you guys have at Pike parties,” you chime in, hip checking Mike so that he’ll scoot over and allow you join their little meeting. 

 Levi lets out a little laugh, the most expressive you’ve seen him so far, while the other two pout at your criticism. 

 “Why don’t you pick the beer then?” Erwin prompts. “Since you have such refined tastes.” 

 Eyebrows lifting, you laugh. “Oh, we’ve got a smartass in the house tonight.” The blond smirks and dusts off his shoulders, making Mike groan in either annoyance or embarrassment. You can’t be sure which one. 

 “Fuck, is this what it’s always like between you three?” Levi asks, looking between all of you. “Just constant bickering?”

 “More or less.”

 “That seems exhausting.”

 “It is,” you confirm. “‘S’why I can only hang out with them in small doses.”

 “Ouch.”

 “Wounded.”

 “Anyway,” you let your head hang so that all they can see is your shoulders shaking as you giggle, and when you look back up, you make sure that the smile is mostly wiped from your face. “I’m not saying I’m some kind of beer expert, but I at least know that the shit you serve at parties is rancid.”

 “And yet, you always seem to forget,” Mike teases. “I always end up having to finish yours.”

 “You don’t have to. You choose to, you fucking alkie.”

 It’s hard to come to any sort of decision with the non-stop push and pull of the conversation, and eventually Levi just walks away to let the three of you work it out. Erwin orders a keg of Rolling Rock, says something about, “Dad won’t mind me splurging a little since I downsized this whole thing for him,” and you scoff at him. 

 He’s well aware of his privilege, talks about it in an ironic manner that’s both maddening and hilarious— “Father is going to let me take the yacht out this weekend,” and, “Oh, that’s not country club appropriate.” It makes you laugh every fucking time, but it also usually earns him a smack or two. 

 The next few hours are spent gathering party supplies and getting the house ready (as in moving some furniture around and hiding valuables). Erwin leaves to pick up the keg after assuring the vendor on the phone that he can drive to them and pay extra for the short notice. You don’t know how he manages it, but you assume his confidence has a lot to do with it.

 Only about twenty people are supposed to come, “An Erwin Smith exclusive,” Mike jokes with you as you stash a couple of vases in the kitchen cabinets. 

 “Oh, does that mean I’m special?” You play.

 “Absolutely.”

 There’s something churning in your gut as you move around downstairs with Mike and Levi, an omniscient feeling, like you know how the night will end, but you’re going to fight it every step of the way. You’ve made it this long without a slip-up, and you’re determined to make it one more night. 

 Erwin gets back with about three hours to spare. He and Mike disappear to change into what you assume to be their usual douche-y attire, and you and Levi sit alone in the large living room waiting quietly. 

 You’re surprised when he speaks first, stating, “You don’t seem the sorority type.”

 Turning, you try to make sense of it, respond, “Well, I’m not.” You’re almost offended that he’d even consider you were.

 “Then what are you doing hanging around with those frat boy fucks?”

 “Oh, that.” You sigh. “Uhh, my friend made me go to one of their parties, and I just… Made an impression, I guess.”

 “You fucked one of ‘em, didn’t you?” Levi is smirking, so sure of himself that you don’t really see the point in denying it.

 “Yeah.”

 “Rich boy or the giant?”

 You look over at him, defenses rising like they did your first night in the Pi Kappa Alpha house. “The fuck is it to you?”

 Holding his hands up, Levi chuckles, “Alright, alright, forget I asked.”

 You cross your arms over your chest, stare off as you wonder if it’s actually that hard to tell. You figured it would be obvious that you’re more comfortable with Mike than with Erwin, but you have been getting more used to the other brazen blond over the last few months, just like you’ve been getting a little more used to Nile and all the other brothers. You haven’t sucked any of their dicks, though. 

 “How’d you meet Erwin?” You try.

 You’re not surprised when Levi snarks, “The fuck is it to you?” 

 You can’t tell if the two of you are going to leave this ranch house as mortal enemies or as friends, but it’ll definitely be one of them. 

 “‘Cause you don’t seem the type to hang out with them either,” you tell him.

 It's definitely odd. He and Erwin have to go back some time to have been able to stick together through their college years and all of their superficial differences. 

 Levi admires the black polish on his nails then informs you in a bored tone, “We’ve been friends since we were kids, but it’s no big deal. Just can’t get rid of him.”

 The corner of his mouth turns upward, so he can’t be too heartbroken over it. You understand that, haven’t quite been able to shake your puppy-dog of a friend since the beginning of the semester, but you’re not as annoyed about it as you pretend to be. 

 “They certainly do get attached,” you hum.

 The two men in question join you once again, looking much more palatable in jeans and v-necks. Erwin has a button-down hanging open and rolled up to his elbows while Mike is wearing a black and white flannel in similar fashion. It’s the most casual they’ve been at a party, and you can’t help but joke, “Wow, look at you two. More human, less lizard people for once.”

 Erwin rolls his eyes while Mike mumbles a Doctor Who reference that makes you suck on the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning. 

 He’s got his charm turned on tonight, the kind that appeals to you, which will definitely pose a problem.

 People start arriving at around eight, some you recognize from the college, some you don’t who you assume to be some of Erwin’s older friends. Gelgar taps the keg within minutes of walking in then plays the role of bartender for the next ten minutes as everyone lines up for a drink. There’s liquor and mixers set up on the counter, and you consider just making your usual, but you figure you should have at least a little of the beer since you’re the one who fought for the more expensive brand. 

 When you get your cup, foam nearly overflowing past the rim, you take one sip only to cough it back up when Mike shows off his usual party trick—appearing out of thin air—and asks, “You gonna finish it this time?”

 You splutter as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand then glare up at him. “I’m gonna try, but it’s gonna be pretty fuckin’ difficult if you keep making me spit up like a god damn baby.”

 He’s amused, light eyes dancing mischievously, and you know you’re in for a long night. 

 Erwin has a playlist filtering through the house’s sound system, a nice balance of several different genres playing at a bearable volume for the first time. Games start up in the kitchen, rage cage around the island, beer pong at the table, and while you’re content to just wallflower in the corner, Mike drags you into it. 

 “You’re just as bad as Hitch," you complain, but he isn't fazed, just plants you in an open spot at the island and stands right beside you. He's gonna regret doing that; rage cage is one of the only competitive games you're actually good at, but he'll find that out. 

 It's fast-paced, full of screaming and laughing, jumping and shoving. You get to slam your cup into Mike's on several occasions, drawing curses from him every time. 

 "Honestly, it's a little embarrassing," you ridicule with a smile. 

 He downs the small amount of beer in the cup he pulls, adds it to the stack, then challenges, "I'll show you embarrassing. Just wait." 

 You've had maybe two beers altogether, but it still sends a jolt down your spine. 

 The two of you play another couple of rounds, and Mike does seem to catch on a little more, but he eventually bows out and pulls you away with him. 

 More beer. Meandering around the party. It's pretty tame in comparison to all the Pike events you've attended, but the later it gets, the rowdier everyone becomes. Music gets turned up to dance. The keg stops being used for pouring and starts being used for stands. You have the absolute pleasure of watching Erwin hold Levi upside down as the smaller man chugs as much as he can. He beats Nile's record, raises his arms in victory as Erwin shakes him by the shoulders in excitement. 

 "They're pretty close, yeah?" 

 Mike looks down at you as you stand on your tip-toes to get closer to his ear as you speak. 

 He nods. "I don't really understand them, but yeah. They've been friends since, like, elementary school, I think."

 "No shit?"

 "No shit."

 You play beer pong against Gelgar and Nile, end up losing by quite a lot, and by the time you finish the remaining cups and another full drink, you're feeling good. Warm, happy, dangerously giggly. 

 Mike stands too close as you make your rounds to talk to people, many of them asking how the lacrosse season went. He puffs his chest a little, tries and fails to act modest, but instead of getting irritated like you usually do, you find yourself resting your cheek against his arm as you shake your head. You don't know if the action is to disagree with him or to get closer, but it makes Mike chuckle and shift so that he can wrap that arm around you and pull you to his chest instead. 

 He smells nice—woodsy with a sweet little bite. It makes your mouth water. You try to call back your determination from before, that readiness to fight and deny, but Mike's body is firm and massive and hot against yours, and he's also drunk and smiling sideways. His eyes are hazy and gorgeous when he peers down at you. His stubble has grown into that perfect length, the kind that feels incredible between your legs, and you can already see your hands tugging at his shaggy hair as he flips it from his face. 

 "You okay?" He rumbles, tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

 He knows. You know he knows. And, he knows that you know that— 

 Fuck. Stop. Just…

 "What do you think?" You're aware of what you're saying. The words make perfect sense. You just can't stop them from falling from your mouth is all. 

 "I don't know," Mike says, a playful lilt to his voice. "Why don't you tell me?" 

 You're not sure if he's asking for your consent or if he just wants to humiliate you by making you spell it out for him. 

 "I mean…" Your gaze travels from his face to his neck to his pecs and downward. "The semester is over."

 "It is," he agrees, hand moving from your waist to your hip. 

 "Don't really need to be, uh… What's the word…" You squeeze your eyes shut, splaying your fingers on his stomach. "Studious," you snap. "Don't need to be so studious on vacation."

 Mike very slowly starts walking backwards toward the staircase, holding you at arms length by both your hips now. 

 "No, you really don't." 

 Voice of reason fading away, you step around him but grab his hand, taking the stairs two by two until you're on the balcony that wraps above the living room. Once you slip into the closer room, yours, you lock the door. 

 Mike's mouth is familiar in its desperation—tastes like beer and want and him. He pulls his flannel off behind him by the sleeves just in time for you to start pushing his shirt up over his abs, in awe all over again at the muscle group. 

 It's really not fair. 

 You pause between kisses to strip, smiling and groaning whenever your lips meet again. You've missed it on some level—the heat, the fucking attraction you just can't shake. All the times you hung out with him, purposely keeping distance, avoiding flirting and touching and staring—you figured it would come to a head. You even guessed there was a good chance that it would be at this party. 

 But, that doesn't mean you're prepared when he throws you onto the bed, doesn't prepare you for the way he bites your lip and sucks on your neck and pinches your nipples until you moan his name and grind against him, and it certainly doesn't prepare you for the way he spreads your legs, runs his nose up the inside of your thigh, then drags his tongue over your slit. 

 "Fuck, Mike." 

 He groans, quick to slide the muscle into your pulsing cunt to taste you. His fingertips are digging into the fat of your thighs, keeping you still save for your trembling which makes the feeling of his mouth even more intense. You want to buck against his face, want to put out the fire raging inside of you by moving somehow, letting some of the energy out, but you can't. All you can do is lay there as Mike licks around your hole and nibbles at your clit and laps up your juices. 

 "Missed this fuckin' pussy," he breathes, sucking on one of your lips and then the other, pulling blood to the surface and making them puffy and sensitive. 

 You card fingers through his hair before fisting your hand in it and shoving his face further into your cunt, trying as hard as you fucking can to ride any part of him you can manage—his tongue, his nose, anything that will give you friction. 

 The sound he makes at your pathetic attempt is bestial, a low, throaty grunt as he rubs his chin up and down your slit, drenching himself in your slick and quickly overstimulating your swollen clit with his stubble. 

 "Oh fuck, oh fuck—"

 "You wanted it," he grits. "You pushed your sloppy little cunt right in my face, so now you've gotta take everything I give you." 

 You cry as he continues the motion, pussy drooling as the little bud starts to grow raw. "Mike, please, please…"

 "Gonna make sure you feel this tomorrow." He stops only to lean back down and suck your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue is soft in comparison to the coarse hair, but it still makes your hips twitch, and when he grazes his teeth over it, you squeal and kick. 

 It's so close to hurting, right on the edge, but it's that helplessness that has you steadily leaking on the bed. It's what makes it easy for Mike to push a finger into your clenching hole, pump a couple times, then slide another one in beside it. 

 Your climax is coiling in your gut, compressed like a spring and only getting tighter with every thrust of long, thick fingers and every measured flick of his tongue. 

 Gripping his hair again, you ride it out. Mike loosens his grip just enough to allow you to undulate in time with the waves that wash over you, and you moan loudly as he moves to flatten his tongue over your entrance so that you come on and against it. 

 He gives you some time to settle down, but you know he isn't done yet, and since you're not quite ready to take his cock in your sensitive pussy, you pull your legs from the sides of his head and crawl to lay with your head off the side of the bed. 

 Mike gets the picture immediately, and you hear a huff of air leave him all at once before he clambers off the mattress to position himself at the edge. You're a little too low, so he grabs all four pillows to shove under you, and as he does, you lavish his bobbing cock with kitten licks, going as far as sucking on his balls when he leans over you. 

 "Jesus fucking—" 

 You can feel the way they tighten, his cockhead dripping pre that lands just below the notch of your sternum. It isn't until he's thoroughly coated in spit that you stop and let him straighten, then open your mouth and relax your shoulders. 

 Mike is careful as he slides his tip past your lips, letting you adjust to the weight of his cock in your mouth before he pushes in a little further. Your eyes start watering as soon as he passes between your molars, making you stretch your jaw and drool from the corners of your mouth. 

 He pulls out then, taps his cockhead on your cheek, leaving a mix of precum and spit on your skin before lining himself up again and sliding back in. 

 He repeats the process a few times as if it'll actually get you used to his size, but it's just not possible. You gag and gurgle, slurp back drool when you're given the chance, and your entire body throbs when Mike tells you, "I'm gonna give you more now, okay? Wanna see your throat bulge with my cock."

 You moan around him, try to make the passage of your mouth and esophagus as straight as possible then let your eyes roll back as he slips into the tighter sleeve for a few seconds. Your toes dig into the bedspread, fingers clawing at the material as you fight back the panic that comes with not being able to breathe. 

 Mike pulls out panting, and you wish you could see his face, the look in his eyes, but you can't. All you can do is lap at his cock until he pushes it into your mouth again. 

 This time when he slips into your throat, he reaches down to press a hand to your neck, letting out a deep, disbelieving laugh as he feels the way his length moves in it. "Holy shit. I could—" he just barely gives you more, and your responding whine is completely muffled by him, "—Could come like this."

 The thought makes you tingle. Or maybe that's the lack of oxygen. You are feeling a little lightheaded. But the idea of him coming down your throat, right into your stomach, fuck, it makes your cunt pulse again. 

 Mike pulls out, and you suck in deep breaths, a little sob making your chest heave. Tears are streaming from your eyes, getting caught in your hair, and you have to wipe other various fluids from your face. 

 He helps you sit back up, rubs your shoulders and kisses the back of your neck as your heart rate returns to normal. As soon as he sees you relax, though, he's tugging you from the bed and bending you over it. 

 The scream that's pushed from you is hoarse as you're split open on his cock. Mike holds you by the hair, pulling your head back as he snaps his hips forward and back relentlessly. He slides in and out of you easily, but that doesn't mean he isn't stretching you to your breaking point. 

 You shake on the bed, thankful when he lets go of your head so that you can fall back to the mattress, crying and moaning all you want. 

 "Feel so good, baby," Mike groans. "So good."

 He punctuates it with a slap to your ass that causes you to squeeze him, and that only encourages him to repeat the action until both your cheeks are radiating heat and stinging from his hands. 

 He flips you like a doll, and you're finally able to see his face clearly as he stares down at you with a dropped jaw and heavy lids. You know you're a mess, fucked out and sloppy, but as he abuses your g-spot with the ridge of his cock, all you can do is grin drunkenly and let your eyes roll. 

 "So pretty when you smile," he praises. Fingers grip your chin, and when you're able to focus your gaze again you find Mike leaning over you, face level with yours. "Open your mouth for me." His tone is soft yet demanding, and you don't hesitate for a second as you do what you're told. 

 Mike pushes spit through his lips, letting it drip and stretch until it lands on your tongue. It makes you feel cheap and disgusting, but it doesn't stop you from squirting around him. 

 Devolving into nothing more than grunts and groans, Mike continues to fuck into you but straightens so that he can reach your clit better. He flicks it back and forth until your true orgasm hits you, and then he keeps going. 

 You cry out, squirm wildly beneath him, but all it results in is two fingers being shoved in your mouth. Stroking over the back of your tongue, more saliva pours from your mouth just like the slick that pours from your pussy while he toys with your clit. 

 You come again. And again. When Mike finally removes his hand from between your legs, you're nothing more than a puddle, moaning and crying for him. 

 Every orgasm has made your walls swell around him, his cock feeling longer and thicker than ever as he kisses your cervix with every thrust. That lightheaded sensation is back, white dots dancing around your eyes, and you just barely manage out his name, tapping in his forearm. 

 "Need… need…"

 "What do you need, babe?"

 Your arms curl up by your head, fingers moving and spasming as every one of your senses is overwhelmed.

  "Need you to—t-to—to come. Need you to c-come." 

 You've never had to tap out before, but you can't take him anymore. His size. His expression. His lack of fucking mercy.

 "Yeah?" He coos, but his cock is still dragging in and out of you. You nod, but Mike draws it out, asking, "Where do you want me to come?"

 "Don't… Care…"

 "You don't care?" He's still moving, fucking you absolutely stupid as he lists out, "Your face? Your tits?" He gropes your chest, pinching both nipples, and the fact that you don't even whimper must clue him into the fact that he's about to lose you. 

 Your mind is swimming, fading every time he pulls out only to be brought back online when he pushes back in. 

 "What about your pussy? Want me to come all over your pussy?" 

 You moan, the simplest part of your brain apparently finding that appealing, so after a few more thrusts, Mike pulls out entirely and jerks himself off until he covers your folds in hot cum. He gets some on your thighs, some on your pelvis, soaks your peaking clit so that you take in a stuttering breath. 

 His hand is between your legs again, fingertips spreading the viscous fluid around and dipping into your slit.

 Your eyes shoot open for the first time in God knows how long, a panicked, "M-Mike," tumbling from your lips, but he hushes you.

 "I'm not pushing it inside or anything. Just having fun."

 And, fuck, tonight is the night you learn how filthy he is. Mike spends a few solid minutes rubbing his seed over your puffy lips, fingers the raw tissue around your hole so that you leak for him, then uses it to massage your clit slowly and softly, pulling one last orgasm from you that makes fresh tears spring in your eyes. 

 You're going to be in a world of pain tomorrow, but you can't regret it—not when your legs continue to shake long after your climax, not when you can already feel that satisfying ache deep inside of you, not when Mike crawls to sit on the bed and lifts you into his arms. 

 "You okay?" He asks into your hair. 

 He's rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you drift in and out. You know you need to shower, but you're so tired and so wrecked, you doubt you'll be able to stand for long enough to clean yourself. 

 "Did I hurt you?" 

 "Mm, little bit," you tell him honestly. You can actually feel his heart start to beat harder in his chest, so you reassure him, "Liked it, though."

 You think something like twenty minutes pass, but you can't be sure as you keep dozing. It's hard not to with Mike rubbing your stomach, his body rising and falling in rhythm with every breath he takes. 

 When your eyes open more than halfway, you begin to move, grimacing at the soreness between your legs as well as the mess. 

 "'m gonna hop in the shower," you announce. 

 Mike sits up too, stretches his arms and asks through a groan, "Want me to come with?"

 "You've done enough coming tonight," you snort. "But nah, I can clean myself on my own."

 His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn't say anything, just lets you get up and walk to the bathroom on shaky legs. 

 The hot water almost puts you back to sleep. You manage to rinse off where you need to, step back into the room fully expecting to see Mike passed out in your bed, but he's nowhere to be found. 

 As you crawl under the covers, you try to swallow the feeling of disappointment that's stuck in your throat. 

 *

Mike is up before almost everyone in the house the next morning, so he spends most of it trying to clean up alongside Levi, though he apparently isn't doing a very good job of it according to the smaller man. 

 "Jesus, have you ever mopped a floor in your life?" 

 "Oh, so we're just throwing everything in the same trash bag? No recycling? Your future kids will thank you for that, I'm sure."

 "No, there's no way I’m letting you wipe down the counters. Just move." 

 Levi is lucky Mike is as laid back as he is otherwise he would have thrown the little fuck into the koi pond behind the house a long time ago. 

 Erwin wakes up around nine and walks down looking a little rough, but Mike has definitely seen him in worse states. 

 "Thanks for cleaning up," he says, bent over the island and holding his head in his hands. "Pretty sure I would have thrown up if I'd tried. Several times."

 He tells the other two that pretty much everyone else started heading out at around three and that he has a list of party-goers he needs to text to make sure they made it home in one piece, "When I can actually fucking see straight."

 Naturally, the conversation turns to Mike. Erwin, with his cheek now pressed against the cool, granite countertop, smirks up at him and asks in a sly voice, "So, how was your night?' 

 Mike bites his lip to hide a smile, leans out of the kitchen to make sure you aren't stumbling down the stairs or traipsing about the house, then looks back to his friend and laughs, "Fucking mind-blowing, dude." He doesn't go into explicit detail—that's never been his style—but he does whisper about you taking him better than any other girl and that he's, "Addicted, dude. I genuinely think I am addicted to her pussy." 

 "Don't be fucking dramatic, Zacharias," you pop out behind him, slapping his back as you pass him to get to the fridge. He can see the ghost of a smile turning your lips up, but it's hard to feel satisfied at that when his own face is beet red. 

 Looking at Erwin, Mike throws his hands out by his side, mutters an incredulous, "Dude," that makes the other blond chuckle. 

 You grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, making Levi grumble, "Are none of you guys concerned about the planet? God damn."

 Standing between Mike and Erwin, you take a few gulps, all eyes on you until you swallow and question, "Can I help you?" Now that you're right next to him, Mike can hear a scratchiness to your voice, almost as if you're getting sick, but he knows better, knows exactly where it came from, and fuck if it doesn't make him twitch in his sweats. 

 "Have a good time at the party?" Erwin pries once again. 

 You look at him with a deadpan expression, then answer, "Seems like you already got the deets, so sure. I had a grand time."

 Mike isn't sure if you're being sarcastic about it just like you are everything else. You had just kind of left him hanging when you'd gone to shower. He hadn't thought too much into it even if he'd been a little bummed, but he thinks he understands. You just need more space than he does. 

 Or, it could have been that you hadn't enjoyed yourself. Oh god, what if you'd just been faking? What if you'd lied to him when he asked if he hurt you? What if you're in pain right now and just hiding it? 

 Mike zones out while you talk with Erwin and Levi about plans for the day, works himself into a nice little panic but is still able to hear you tell them you're just gonna head back to your mom's. 

 "You sure?" Erwin asks. "I know you only planned to stay one night, but you're more than welcome to hang out for longer. We’ll be here for at least another few days."

 Levi adds an, "Unfortunately," that earns him a hair ruffle he swats away. 

 "No, it's cool. I can't leave mom alone for the holiday or she'll start to think I don't like staying at the house."

 "You don't, though."

 "Yeah, but she doesn't have to know that."

 Mike stares after you as you take your water bottle and return upstairs, and it doesn't escape the notice of the other two men. 

 "You're so fuckin' whipped, man," Erwin teases. 

 Mike doesn't deny it, just holds up a middle finger. 

 Erwin isn't entirely wrong, though. Mike has been trying to deny it or play it off as nothing more than lust, but there's more to his feelings at this point. He tries not to be obvious around you, to keep his cards close to his chest because he knows you just want to keep things casual—barely even want that if he's being honest. 

 So he can hide it. He can pretend it isn't happening. In fact, Mike should be thankful that you only want sex (sometimes) because it leaves him to do whatever he wants. He could fuck other chicks left and right, and you wouldn't even bat an eyelash. That's a good thing, right? 

 That worry about last night still has him on edge, though, so before you can leave, Mike catches you in your room as you're packing up and closes the door. 

 He expects you to make some kind of comment about not being able to go again, but all you do is tilt your head to the side in a dangerously cute way. 

 "Hey, I, uh… I just wanted to make sure you felt okay after last night." 

 You blink at him, pause in folding your clothes, then show a wide, real grin. 

 "Yeah, I'm fine. Sore in various places—like, super sore—but I'm fine."

 Mike's mouth twists to hide his smirk, and he mumbles a low, "Sorry."

 "Don't ever apologize for your monster cock," you tell him, setting your shirt down on the mattress before pacing over to him. "Like, unless there's tearing of some sort, which there really shouldn't be since you're good at preparation, whoever you fuck should be okay. Sore but okay."

 His eyes go a little wide when you stop in front of him, looking up with an expression he's really never seen before—or maybe that you've never allowed him to see before—and the longer he stares, the more he realizes that you're god damn glowing. 

 Taking a chance, he finds your waist with his hands, inches just a little closer, then leans down when you stand on your toes and tug him by the shirt. 

 You taste like peppermint and already smell like the perfume you wear every day, the scent that has made Mike dizzy for the past few months. He moves a hand to your back to press your body into his, and when you take his bottom lip into your mouth, biting and sucking, he groans and pulls back before he can get too hard. 

 "What's all this? Why are you so perky this morning?" 

 "I get giddy after good sex," you say with a shrug. "Sue me."

 "That why you run away every time I fuck you?" He questions.

 You nod. "Couldn't run away this time, though."

 "I'm sure it's really bruising your pride, letting me see you all warm and gooey." 

 "I am not warm and gooey," you protest. "I was last night, but—"

 "Aw, gross, why'd you have to say it like that?" 

 You giggle—giggle—then remind him, "You're the one who felt the need to fucking fingerpaint."

 Mike vividly remembers the way your pussy looked covered in his cum, the way it felt to smear it and play with your swollen entrance and clit, and now… Now he is definitely hard again. 

 "Better stop before you end up on that bed again."

 Your eyes are dancing, tone mischievous when you respond, "Only if you're gentle."

 "Christ—"

 He's got you naked and spread on the mattress in less than thirty seconds, tongue buried in your cunt as he soothes every part of you he can reach. 

 It would be cruel to actually fuck you again. He knows you're probably a little more tender than you're letting on, so Mike settles for licking into you and flicking your clit, never using teeth as it swells in his mouth so that you pant and moan, and promise, "I can handle it, Mike, I can…"

 "I don't care if you can or can't. Just lemme do this."

 And, it's not like he hasn't pulled his cock from his pants, pumping it and coating his length in the pre-cum he drips at the mere sight of you.

 He can tell you're getting close when your thighs start to tense. You alternate between shifting your hips and going slack. It's the latter that you leak the most, pussy opening around his tongue only to clench a few seconds later. 

 "Just one finger, Mike, please, I want—I need something inside me, please, please," you moan. 

 Mike turns his face to kiss your thigh, sighing but giving in easily when he acquiesces, "Only one."

 The noise you make as he slides his middle finger into you is like music, high pitched and drawn out, with an awe one would sing hymns with. 

 "Yes, yes, yes, thank you, fuck, tha—"

 He understands why you wanted it so badly when he pulls it out and sees his finger coated in white, considers fucking you with it to the point of tears, but before he can, the door to the bedroom swings open and fucking Erwin walks in to ask, "Levi and I are going to the store—"

 “Jesus fuck, Erwin!" Mike swears. "A little busy here!"

 His friend is unfazed, but more importantly, you are too, arching your back, pulling Mike's hair to get him back where you want him, then moaning his name like you never have before as you come. 

 You tremble and take in stuttering breaths, and Mike does his best to hide your exposed pussy from prying eyes as he looks at Erwin and barks out a furious, "No, I don't need anything from the store. Get out."

 The blond shrugs and turns, walking out without shutting the door, and Mike swears he's gonna kill him. He's too bold and too entitled and now he's seen far too much of your body, and Mike doesn't like that. 

 "Did you come?" You ask in an airy voice. Mike guesses you could feel the rhythm of his hand on his cock, probably pushing his face harder against you with every pass. 

 "Uh, no. I don't know if you noticed, but Erwin walked in."

 "I noticed," you snort, sitting up on your elbows. "Why do you think I moaned your name like that?"

 "What?" It had seemed a little odd. Mike knows he's pretty good at oral, but you've never made a sound like that before. 

 "Fucker wanted to see what we were up to, I decided to show him. Now he knows how good you are."

 Mike stands, peers down at you skeptically and says, "You're being too nice to me today. It's freakin' me out a little."

 He doesn't think it's necessary to add that Erwin is already aware of his sexual prowess considering they definitely had a threesome with a rather adventurous girl back in freshman year. It's just not pertinent information. 

 "Soak it up, Zacharias. I'm sure the good mood will be gone by tomorrow."

 "Why, cause I won't be at your mom's to fuck you stupid every night?" His voice comes out cocky, but it's stifled by the way you squeal when he slaps a hand over your wet pussy.

 "I'm sensitive, you asshole!" You're smiling even as you whine. "And, here I was about to give you head to get you off."

 "I mean, you can still do that."

 You glare up at him the whole time you slide off the bed to your knees, warn, "Better hope I don't bite."

 *

 After you leave (and after making out against Mike’s Wrangler for a little too long), he goes back inside to find Erwin and Levi lounging in the den with a movie playing. He wastes no time in snapping his fingers at Erwin and commanding, "We're gonna talk."

 "Oh, are we?" Erwin doesn't even look away until Mike grabs the back of his shirt, and only then does he move from his spot. "Okay, okay, watch the wrinkles, bro."

 He follows Mike into the kitchen, out of earshot unless either of them raise their voices which… Could happen. 

 "What the fuck was that?" Mike hisses. 

 Erwin looks at him with big blue eyes and plays dumb, "What the fuck was what?" 

 Taking a deep breath through his nose, Mike makes sure his voice comes out low and steady, "Smith, I swear to God, it's been a long time since I've punched you, but you're fuckin' testing me, dude."

 Erwin smiles, face lighting up with what looks like excitement but could also be fury. 

 "Mike," he starts. "Don't tell me you're getting violent over a girl." His tone is patronizing, his eyebrows are high, and his grin is downright menacing. 

 "I haven't gotten violent yet," Mike grits. 

 "Hey, how was I to know what you two were doing up there?" 

 "It's not about you walking in, dude! It's about you just fucking standing there!"

 Erwin chuckles and blows him off, "Mike, I've seen your dick before. You've got nothing to worry about."

 "That's not what I'm worried about. You just, like, came in when she was in a vulnerable position, and that's fucked up."

 "She didn't seem to mind."

 Mike sucks his teeth, takes another grounding breath, then asks again, "Why? Why did you wait to leave?" 

 "You want me to be honest?" Erwin rolls his neck then his shoulders. Mike has seen him do that many times before lacrosse games to loosen up—to get ready for a fight. 

 Mike's fist clenches at his side. "Yeah, I do."

 "You've been making yourself crazy over this girl since the start of the semester, and I want to know why."

 "What do you mean?" Mike doesn't know why he asks, has a pretty good idea of what Erwin is alluding to. 

 The blond still dodges the question but in about the worst way possible. "It's not like you two are exclusive or anything."

 Mike feels the way his lungs fill to the point of burning, how his jaw clenches until his molars begin to ache under the pressure, and before he really knows what's happening, he's bowing up to his best friend. 

 Erwin matches him, only a couple inches shorter, chin tilted, that maddening light in his eyes. 

 "Walk away, Mike," he warns. "And, we can forget this little spat even happened."

 Mike peers down his nose at him, trying to rein in his emotions because Erwin is right. You two aren't exclusive. You don't want to be. You told him it was because you need to focus on school, but it could be that you want other options. 

 But fuck, Mike doesn't want Erwin to be one of them. He's stolen more than a few girls right from under Mike's nose with his stupid charm and stupid face and stupid money. He doesn't want you to fall prey to all of it too. 

 Mike doesn't even register the quiet footsteps padding into the kitchen, but Levi's smartass, "You guys about to kiss or somethin'?" definitely snaps him out of his head. 

 Stepping back, Mike resists the urge to punch the counter and break his fucking hand, then turns and strides out. 

 He's supposed to stay at the ranch house for a couple more days, but Mike needs to distance himself before he does something stupid. 

 When he comes back downstairs with his bag on his shoulder and his keys in his hand, Erwin seems to realize his error on at least some level and stands from his place on the couch. 

 "Mike, come on, I'm sor—"

 "Let me cool off, dude,” Mike snaps.

 Erwin shuts his mouth and sits back down, smart enough not to follow Mike outside.

[ next ]

[jalapeno-princess]

Kiss Me More

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word count: 6.1K

Genre: Very fluffy smut

Warning: Some sexy time in there nothing too extreme (hehehe...or is there?)

Summary: You were confident in the fact that your sex life with Mark was very exciting, wild and fun to say the least. In more or less words, it was perfect. Just your relationship in general was the kind that many people around you would be the envy of. It’s been four years since you began dating and you could honestly say it has been the best four years of your life so far because of him. He was the best boyfriend you could possibly ask for; kind, funny, gentle, considerate, soft-spoken, generous and extremely handsome. He took really good care of you and it was obvious by both his actions and his words that he was madly in love with you. As the two of you are coming down from your sex highs, you grow curious as to why once your love making sessions were over, so is the intimacy. Surely, your boyfriend has his reasons for not kissing you for too much longer as you’re about to go to bed. Right?

A/N: Based on the song “Kiss Me More” by Doja Cat and Sza. I am obsessed with this song and I knew I had to write something based on it so I hope you all enjoy! (I don’t really care for how the ending turned out but whatever).

We hug and yes, we make love And always just say "Goodnight" (la-la-la-la-la) And we cuddle, sure I do love it But I need your lips on mine

Can you kiss me more? We're so young, boy We ain't got nothin' to lose, oh, oh It's just principle Baby, hold me 'Cause I like the way you groove, oh, oh

Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it (la-la-la-la) Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it

“Ah—shit, shit—baby, I’m going to need you to slow down. Please—we have the whole night, I just—y/n—fuck. You’re so fucking sexy—“ Against your boyfriend’s pleas, you only sped up your pace to rile him more than he already was. 

“The whole night? We’ve been at this for three hours baby. I think I’m gonna tap out here soon. Aren’t you tired?” 

The devilish grin that immediately rose on his face at your confession confirmed that no—he was not tired or if he was, he still had enough energy to keep pumping in to you. You were currently bouncing on his cock; sinking up and down on him like it was your life duty to do so. 

Your walls were clenched around him deliciously; his hardened length filled you up to the hilt with every thrust. The tip grazed along your nub; flicking it with every pump and it was quickly driving you to the brink of insanity. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d find yourself in this position tonight. 

The two of you were exhausted beyond belief; you were at school since six in the morning up until four in the afternoon earlier today. You had finished two midterms and one very important exam you’ve been studying almost an entire month for. Tired wasn’t even a good enough word to describe your current state. 

Your boyfriend was just as much in bad shape as you were. His boss had him doing multiple errands today on top of completing his own assigned work. He only arrived home a little over an hour ago. When you heard the front door of your shared apartment gently open, you had to prevent yourself from running towards him and embracing him with all the power you had in your tiny body. 

You were confident that he was probably worn out and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. From previous experiences, sometimes your boyfriend would go straight to bed upon arrival—being too fatigued to care about eating or taking a shower even. 

Although you were just as tired and in more or less words; overworked to the bone, seeing your boyfriend slumped while his dark circles grew more and more prominent every day, you mustered up enough energy to iron his clothes for the next day, prepare the clothes he’d wear to sleep, pack him a lunch and even get some of his toiletries ready if he felt like wanting to rinse off just a bit. 

To your surprise, as soon as he made his way towards you—before you could even open your mouth to ask your boyfriend how his day was, his pretty, heart-shaped lips that you loved so much were fervently smashed against yours. He gave you no time in preparing yourself for what was to come next before he roughly grabbed you at your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

His mouth never left yours as he led the two of you to your shared bedroom. It boggled your mind that he was giving you his full attention; gnawing and sucking on your lips while he carried you to the room without bumping in to anything or tripping on the rug. Maybe he’s gotten used to doing so since the two of you have been in this exact same scenario more times than you can count on both hands. 

There were so many thoughts running through your mind and questions on the tip of your tongue—concerning the sudden affection and lust he was currently showing you, but whatever you wanted to ask him no longer mattered the second he shoved his tongue down your throat and squeezed both your ass cheeks before slapping them hard. 

“Mark—babe is everything okay—“

“Work was shit—complete and utter shit. I missed you so fucking much like I do every single day I’m at that shithole and so I logged on to Snapchat and to my surprise—and delight, my beautiful girlfriend sent me a few snaps of her pretty outfit today. Don’t play innocent baby, you knew exactly what you were doing as soon as you hit send. You are well aware of the fact that I was seconds away from calling in sick this morning and fucking you in to oblivion right against the kitchen counter when you walked out in to the living room. Ah—there was so many things I wanted to say. Don’t get me wrong, you look breathtakingly beautiful in every single thing that you wear, but my dress shirt and that pencil skirt that hugs you in all the right places and leaves little to the imagination? Tsk tsk—it’s like you wanted me to rearrange your guts tonight.” 

You looked at him in curiosity; it took you a few moments to pin point exactly what photos he was referring to. Since you were so busy today, you completely forgot about sneaking to the bathroom and taking a few pictures of yourself. This last week has been extremely busy for both you and your boyfriend—and so the thought of being intimate with him felt like a fever dream. 

Sex with Mark had to be one of your favorite activities not only as a couple, but just in general. One thing about the older boy that you admired was the fact that he was very talented in each and every single thing he put his mind in to. Baseball, volleyball, football, golf, tennis, soccer, martial arts—it wasn’t even only sports. 

Mark was exceptionally intelligent; he was one of the only people you knew that was good at both reading and math. He also could finish a Rubik’s cube in under two minutes which was quite the impossible task. Every single thing your boyfriend did never failed to impress you. However, you felt as though he was the best at blowing your mind in more ways than one. 

The older boy was extremely generous; he always bought you cute little gifts that reminded him of you, he’d pay for every single date against your pleas no matter where the two of you would go, he’d sacrifice his time and work his schedule around yours so he could pick you up and drop you off wherever you needed to go. When it came to the bedroom, he always put you and your needs first. Mark always made it his main priority to make sure you came first, that you were genuinely having a good time and overall he wanted to do whatever he possibly could to make you comfortable. 

Some days, he’d be so focused on eating you out that he found pleasure and got his full strictly by sucking on your pussy. If you were having a rough day, he’d prepare you a bath and get you all your favorite snacks in attempts of cheering you up but not before finding his place in between your thighs and dragging his tongue along your slit faster than you could actually handle. Mark was the king of overstimulation; one of his kinks was driving you crazy and not giving you a chance to do anything about it. 

He was extremely good at sex— and his body was handcrafted by God. Every single thing about him was annoyingly perfect; he wasn’t the most muscular man but he wasn’t exactly skinny either. He had just the right amount of muscle, a six pack and he was well endowed. Although you considered penises very unattractive before you met Mark, something about his was so pretty and it always made your mouth water. 

You weren’t sure if you preferred having it buried deep inside of your cunt, or filling up your throat—both felt so phenomenal. Out of all the positions you and Mark experimented in during your four year relationship, your favorites had to be doggy, missionary and the one you were currently in right now. In most of your love making sessions, Mark took the lead and dominated you—not that you ever objected. 

A dominant Mark—degrading, rough, animalistic was the sexiest Mark—well, next to jealous and overprotective which usually led to the passionate and extremely freaky sex the two of you’d have. But there were times where you would take control because Mark was the definition of a switch; and something about him submitting to you and whatever you told him to always sent your mind in a frenzy.

Mark was very vocal about how he came faster whenever you would find yourself riding him specifically because watching your breasts bounce, getting to see your gorgeous face and observing your pussy swallow his cock whole—your juices coating his entire length, the sensation was lethal. His hands gripped on your waist all but gently; you might have been the one on top but your boyfriend was a powerbottom. He never allowed you to do things on your own, especially during sex. 

“Nope. I’m like the energizer bunny whenever we make love. In fact, I could probably fuck you for a solid four more hours. I know sex isn’t everything in a relationship and there are so many other things I love to do with you—but damn, you’re a fucking dream y/n. We have sex almost every single day and it always feels like the first time. If you’re exhausted baby, you can get off. As much as I particularly enjoy and get off on the feeling of your ass clapping against my balls, I’m sure it’s pretty tiring.” 

You had to stifle back a laugh at his choice of words; when the two of you first became intimate with one another, there was a lot of laughter and playful banter in the duration of your sexy time to which you didn’t think was normal. Then again, your relationship with Mark was never normal from the start. Your relationship was the envy of a lot of the people around you. 

It’s been over four years yet somehow—maybe it was the deep, passionate love you held for one another, but you were still surprisingly in the honeymoon stage. Neither you or Mark could get enough of each other. Sometimes, whenever the two of you would tumble in to bed together, some jokes, corny pickup lines and even riddles would be thrown in while Mark would be railing you and on some occasions, he’d say things at the wrong time, but you still had so much fun nonetheless. 

“I’m not too tired, I just don’t want to be immobile for the next week. My thighs are jelly and I have work in the morning. I’ve called out three times already in the last month because you fulfill your promises of wrecking me and I’m sure my boss is aware of the fact that it’s not possible for me to get food poisoning that many times within days of each other—“

“I mean, I have no regrets honestly and if I remember correctly, you’re always the one telling me to “go faster” and to “fuck me harder daddy”—ow! What? I’m just stating the facts—“

“I know, but it sounds weird when you say it.” 

He playfully rolled his eyes before stealing a sloppy kiss from the corner of your mouth and motioned for you to get off of him. As much as you were reveling in his many wanton noises and lustful facial expressions, you could feel your legs giving out and you were in no position to be calling out sick again. At least not for another week or two. You let out a whine at the feeling of him slowly pulling out of you; you weren’t ashamed to say you were a huge fan of how it felt to be full of your boyfriend’s cock. 

Cock warming was another favorite kink of yours. Mark on the other hand, would have to mentally prepare a few minutes prior to staying inside of you. It was hard for him to stay idle—he’s told you this many times. As much as he wanted to do whatever you asked of him and wanted to please you no matter what it was you desired, the feeling of your tight, wet and warm walls clenching around him was too much. He allowed it to happen, but not for too long. He could be the one to tap out, but a couple minutes of cockwarming could lead to another round of sex and in many cases; it did.

“What a baby, can’t even go a couple of seconds without my dick inside of her—“

“Shut up, I can go in to the bathroom and finish myself off if I wanted to—“

“We all know your fingers aren’t enough to get you seeing stars princess. And that stupid dildo you bought when I was away in Taiwan last year can’t do shit for you either.” 

Thankfully, he didn’t take too long in throwing you against the bed and lining himself back at your entrance. You were seeping of your essence at this point and he swiped himself along your folds so that it would be easier for him to slip back inside. He brought his face up to your ear and his breath was hot against your jaw as he leaned in to whisper naughty words that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. 

“Only I can bring you to sheer ecstasy. Only I can get you to see white—only I can get your head spinning. My fingers; we both know how much my fingers are one of your favorite body parts of mine.” He wrapped one hand around your neck gently, making sure to glide his thumb along your pressure point while swiping some of your juices with his index finger and bringing it up to your mouth. 

“Taste yourself baby. I want you to experience the euphoria I go through whenever I eat out this pretty cunt of yours. Well—back to what I was saying, my tongue, I know exactly how to use it as we make out, when I suck on this pretty little neck of yours or when I suck the life out of your pussy—so even if you were to finger yourself like the dirty girl you are, you’ll never reach the mind blowing orgasm only I can give to you. Now, I think it’s time I teach you a lesson for speaking out against me.” 

You bit your lip in anticipation for the excitement that was to come; whenever Mark would get jealous or whenever you were bratty and went against whatever he commanded you to do, that’s when he would fuck your brains out. How the two of you were still going at it with such a rapid and forceful pace had yet to really process completely in your mind, but you didn’t question it. A muttered groan fell from both your lips and his as soon as he found his place back inside of you. 

Immediately, he placed his face in the crook of your neck for what you were accustomed to him trying his best not to moan loudly. He dragged his teeth along the juncture of your nape before sinking his teeth in and leaving a dark love bite in its wake. 

“Mark!” 

You swatted his arm once you felt the spot begin to throb. Sure, you found it extremely sexy whenever he’d mark his territory because it proved just how possessive and overprotective he was over you but at the same time, hickeys were difficult to cover up and you were confident the purple mark would be on display for your professors, classmates, coworkers, boss and clients to see. 

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t help myself—I’ll help you put some makeup on it tomorrow. It’s just that—ugh, how the fuck are you always so damn tight? We have sex on a daily basis, you should be stretched out by now.”

“You men obviously don’t understand the anatomy of a woman. You’re lucky you’re attractive and very sweet, you’re lacking intelligence—“

“Hey—“

“Just fuck me already asshole.” 

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He went straight in to ramming his cock in and out of you. There was no time to be soft or gentle; the two of you were just moments away from your releases. You preferred the softness and romanticism that came with making love, but right now all you could think about was how amazing it felt when the tip of his cock reached your cervix. 

“Feels—“

“So fucking good.” 

Your breasts were bouncing up and down with every thrust and to your delight, your boyfriend cupped one of your mounds in his hand; flicking your nipple all but gently and earning himself the sexiest growl he’s ever heard in his life. He wrapped his lips around your other breast and swirled his tongue around your nipple—bringing the nub in between his teeth and nibbling on it. 

“Such pretty titties—so soft, so big—your body belongs in an art museum. You’re a masterpiece. Everything about you—I can’t even wrap my head around your beauty. You’re really a sight for sore eyes you know that?” 

Slowly, you shaking my brought your palm up to his face and cupped his cheek feather lightly. You brought your free hand in to his hair and softly tugged at his curly, brown locks. 

“I—I love you Mark—“

“Mmm—I love you more baby girl. So much more. Every time you say those three words, I feel like a little kid who’s crush complimented his outfit. You do wonders on my heart. What did I do to deserve you?” 

Out of no where, he lifted up one of your legs and placed it on his shoulder. This position allowed him to reach deeper inside of you which you didn’t even know there was more of you for him to reach. 

“Shit—shit, just like that Mark—“

“You like that baby?” 

You nodded in agreement fervently; he needed to know the effect that this position was having on you. Something about having him on top of you, even if missionary was a position that most people considered boring and ordinary—you felt like you were going to burst in to flames at any moment. The sound of his pelvis clapping against your ass cheeks sounded off throughout the room. It only heightened the sexual desire that already filled up the atmosphere. His grip on your lower waist tightened as the two of you grew closer and closer to your ends. 

“So tight—so wet—so perfect and all mine.” 

He brought your other leg up on to his shoulder and you could fill your orgasm right at the edge. A loud moan fell from his lips and he tried to conceal it by smashing his mouth against yours, but you only felt the vibration on your tongue as he hummed in contentment. 

“Mark—I can’t—it’s too much—“

“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there too. Can you hold on for just a little longer?” 

With all the energy you could muster, you nodded against his chest and allowed him to reconnect your lips together; his speed was relentless and with the way the bed was creaking, you knew that there was a huge chance it would break soon and you would get yet another noise complaint. Probably the seventh one in the last month. You were secretly hoping that he was closer than you were and that he was only holding on as long as possible so you both could continue your late night romp. 

Your boyfriend was a nymphomaniac; sex might not have been the most important part of your relationship, but after a long, stressful day at work, he found relief in releasing his anger and frustration on your body. Making love was even better—but it didn’t matter how the two of you were intimate, just having your skin against his and your tongue battling for dominance with his, the sensation never failed to turn his sour mood in to a much happier and lighter one. 

He was happiest being one with you. Just by the way he let go of your hips to intertwine your hands together, you were confident that he was about to cum. Whenever he was at his end, he’d stop whatever he was doing to hold your hands and leaned back so that he could get a better look at you. Seeing your fucked out state; sweat dripping down your neck and chest, cheeks flushed with warmth, hair sticking to your forehead, mouth gasping for air—knowing that he was the cause behind your beautiful glow, it brought him confidence and glee. 

Soon, you were being filled with his warm creamy liquid in spurts—the sensation of being full of his sperm was one that you still haven’t gotten used to. It was just that mind blowing. Your orgasm followed in suit just seconds after. It felt like a tidal wave swallowing you whole, you were drowning but in the best way. It was hard to describe; but it was a high you never wanted to come down from. You were speechless; there were no words to describe just how on top of the world you were currently feeling. 

Mark called it a sex high. Whenever you and your boyfriend would find yourselves tangled in the sheets, you felt like you were in another world. Maybe it was just a high off of Mark himself. He was hot; there was no doubt about it and honestly you could stare at him all day if time permitted you to. For a couple of minutes, there was a peaceful silence.

All you wanted to do was calm your rapid heartbeat and to get your breathing under control. Mark’s heart pounded against your chest and his dick that was once hard as a rock was now soft and limp inside of your cavern—neither of you moved; he was pressed up against your breasts and his head was smashed up along your collarbone. Your mind was too hazy to really feel the stickiness of his sweaty body, but if this were under different circumstances you probably would’ve pushed him off. 

Less than five minutes later, Mark leaned back enough so that he had a better view to look at you. He gently brushed back some of your hair and glided his thumb along your cheek—bringing it down to your bottom lip. The soft smile he was giving you as you placed a kiss amongst the calloused digit sent electricity through your veins. In times like these; where you were bare, not just physically but spiritually and mentally and in the comfort of your boyfriends arms, you always felt so safe—so at ease, so serene, so loved. 

You might have just did something so naughty, yet you couldn’t help but blush timidly. No matter how many times the two of you relished in your love for one another, you always felt so shy with his wandering eyes gazing all along your body. Even if he’s seen you naked at least a hundred times, you still found yourself turning red under his stare. 

A few sweet kisses were placed against your mouth as what you assumed was a distraction because as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, he slowly pulled himself out from your slick walls. The two of you groaned at the feeling of emptiness; you gave him a glare—upset that he pulled out so soon especially since you told him earlier that you were in the mood for cockwarming. 

“Mark—“

“I know, I’m sorry baby. I just want to clean you up and get us ready for bed. I think your pussy puts me to sleep a lot more often now. But if you want to take a bath, I can go prepare one for you—“ 

Something about the thought of fucking Mark to exhaustion made you giggle. Especially because moments ago, he was wanting to continue having sex for much longer. “No, I don’t think I can walk you asshole. I’ll just take one in the morning before my shift. But thank you. Am I wearing you out Tuan?”

“Yes and I’m not afraid to admit it. I think five orgasms in less than two hours would do that to someone. You’re so fucking sexy and so damn good to me there’s no point in trying to conceal my feelings for the sake of my pride. I’d shout it at the top of my lungs if I had to—I’m completely whipped for you and I have every intention on keeping it that way for the rest of our lives. Now, I’ll be right back okay?” 

With a couple of kisses against the corner of your mouth, he disappeared in to your bathroom. It was only natural for you to snicker to yourself at the sight of his cute little butt as he quickly walked over to get a warm wash cloth and a bottle of water. You decided to take that time to reminisce on tonight’s escapade. 

Every time you thought about your love making sessions with Mark, your stomach would swarm with butterflies. In the beginning of your relationship when you were just beginning to learn more and more about each other, the sex the two of you would experiment in was exciting, fun and intoxicating—not that it wasn’t like that anymore. 

But now that you were both so madly in love with one another, it was more passionate, more meaningful and a lot more desirable. You always had to be touching him and without even having to ask him, he’d always have his hands on you too. The bed sank and before you could even comprehend what was going on, a wet towel was gently being brushed along your lower body. 

He first got in between your thighs, making sure to wipe up any excess cum that might have dripped from your entrance. Then he brought it up to your navel, making sure to rid visible sweat—then finally he cleaned your folds and with the way a tingling sensation began to develop, you knew he was purposely taking his time to mess around with and to get a rise out of you. 

Right as you were about to whine in attempts to get him to stop, he got another washcloth and wiped your face. Mark was well aware of how your skincare was very important to you. He’d watch you take the time to put on moisturizer, toner and sunscreen on in the mornings and right before bed. 

It was the little things that he recognized that made your heart swell; no matter how many times a day he’d tell you that he loved you, he professed his love just a little bit more through his actions. Once he was done, he helped you put on a clean pair of underwear and one of his t-shirts—a reoccurring act of affection he did not too long after you came down from your highs. 

With a sweet kiss on your forehead, he went back in to the bathroom to prepare for bed; brushing his teeth and putting on a pair of sweatpants before taking his spot next to you under the covers. By instinct, you were pulled up against his chest and his arms snaked around your hips. He left wet kisses all along your face; making sure to steal a few pecks from your lips as he smiled against your mouth. 

“That was mind blowing as always. My pretty—pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect. What did I do to deserve you? God, I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve made love—“

“It’s been three days Mark—“

“Exactly. That’s a long time baby. Especially because I crave you every second of the day. I can’t get over how wonderful you are. Literally flawless. Rest up baby, once you come home tomorrow I’m having you again and again and again—“

“Oh God, how I’m not pregnant at this point is still a mystery to me. Horndog.” 

He let out the most adorable little giggle while turning your body so that he was spooning you. He’s told you many times that as much as he loved being able to see your face, he was more comfortable in this position. You were confident it was because he’d get to feel your ass pressed up against his length, but you didn’t want him feeling embarrassed if that was the real reason behind. Besides, you felt so safe and protected in this position. 

However, you’ve been contemplating on voicing your feelings about how nights would end right after you and your boyfriend would tap out from either exhaustion or overstimulation. Sure, you loved the cuddling and being held by him, but that was pretty much it. He’d kiss you a couple of times and then he’d say good night. If you both had even the tiniest amount of energy, you’d stay up and talk about whatever it was that your hearts desired. 

You wanted to kiss him for much longer than the fleeting kisses—you fantasized about spending a little more time with his soft lips on yours. Maybe he saved the makeout sessions for the bedroom. But even during sex, the kisses were hot and wild—in the heat of the moment, but you were too busy focusing on being penetrated to really enjoy kissing him. 

“Well, I mean my pullout game is the best—“

“You literally just came inside of me that’s a joke right?” 

He let out a scoff of disbelief and although you couldn’t see him, he playfully rolled his eyes. “I mean, well, you know—yeah whatever. The thought of impregnating you is a huge kink of mine. You’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives. You’re going to be the best mother one day and the cutest little pregnant lady. I can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby and I’m even more impatient in finally starting a family with you. You really are the love of my life. Look at how sappy you’ve made me. Mmm, I love you, I love you, I love you. Sweet dreams my love.” 

Hearing him confess all that he did about his love for you and the future the two of you had together—you couldn’t stop the smile from taking over the entirety of your face. Almost every single thing Mark said—no matter how naughty or straight up cheesy it was never failed to make your heartbeat increase. You were soon feeling silly for worrying about such a minuscule thing and you wished it could have been enough for you. Yet, the question was on the tip of your tongue; you were mentally battling with yourself. 

There had to be a reason why the kissing stopped once you both reached your fill. You didn’t want to seem too clingy or overdramatic—maybe you were overthinking things. Your mind kept telling you to leave it alone and that he had his reasons, yet you couldn’t stop the tiny voice in your head that begged you to continue to pry at him. Mark looked down at you in curiosity when you turned around to face him. He lifted up your chin and furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“Everything alright y/n?”

“Why don’t you kiss me more?” Your question was muffled since you were too shy to ask him out right and hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you—“

“I want you to kiss me more.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean? Where is this coming from baby?” 

An exasperated sigh fell from your lips and you were soon regretting actually asking him the question that’s been weighing heavy on your mind for months now. It was extremely silly now that the question was actually out there but the reason why your relationship with your boyfriend had been so healthy all these years is because conversation was one of the most important keys to making sure you were both on the same page. 

The last thing Mark wanted was for you to be uncomfortable or to feel as though you had to hide your feelings for his sake. Which is why you weren’t surprised to see him looking at you worriedly, waiting patently for you to go in to further detail. 

“Right before we go to bed, whether it’s after sex or just once we’re done doing whatever it is after we both come home from work, you give me a few kisses and then we cuddle and fall asleep. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy doing those things. I just—I want more. I love kissing you if you didn’t already know that by now. Kissing you is one of my favorite activities that we do because your lips are so addicting. But we only ever passionately kiss during sex and when we make out it usually leads to love making and theres really nothing wrong with that. I just wish we could kiss without having it end up or only be during sex.” 

Although the lights were off and you could barely see him, you could tell he was wearing a blank expression on his face. He continued his ministrations of gliding his fingers along your sides but he stayed silent for a few moments. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole; you were so embarrassed but this was your boyfriend. 

He needed to know how you felt if your relationship was going to continue as beautifully as it currently was. To your surprise, he lifted up your chin and reconnected your lips together in a very passionate kiss. His hands cupped either sides of your face and he roughly nipped and sucked on your lips; leaving you breathless as he deepened the kiss further.

It was only natural for you to smile against his mouth; you were hoping you didn’t upset him and that he was only kissing you like this to please you. You were hoping he too was finding some enjoyment in kissing you right now. As his lips continued to attack yours, he took that chance to flip you on top of your back and stole a couple more kisses before sucking on your sweet spot right below your ear. This was what you wanted; it felt so wonderful and you felt even more closer to him than you felt a little over half an hour ago with his cock buried deep inside of you. 

“How was that? By that gorgeous smile of yours and the way your lips are swollen I’m assuming you quite liked that.” You nodded in agreement and stole a few kisses from the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel as though I’m not interested in continuing our intimacy once we’re about to go to bed. Trust me, kissing you is my favorite thing to do with you too. You drive me fucking crazy. I’ve actually questioned myself about this numerous times too but I just assumed you were tired and I didn’t want to press you in to doing something just because I wanted to do it. Plus—“ 

He led your hand down to his sweatpants and your cheeks grew warm at the feeling of his hardened cock. It never failed to make you laugh seeing as how easy it was for him to grow horny at just the simplest touch. “This is why our make out sessions lead to sex and why I was hesitant about telling you that I wanted to be more intimate with you rather than the small pecks and holding you before falling asleep myself. It’s just going to lead in to another round. God, I sound like such a nymphomaniac but I’m proud to say that I am. I got a very sexy girlfriend, who could blame me for wanting to relish in our love at least once a day? Well, now that I know how you feel y/n, I would love to kiss you more. A lot more. why don’t we experiment a little tonight and see where it leads tomorrow?” You beamed up with him and with all the energy you still had left inside of you, flipped your bodies so you were on top. It obviously riled him up and the cheeky grin he was giving you sent warmth to your core. 

“That sounds like a plan. Now kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

[tooruluv]

Tobio Kageyama x F!Reader ( part 9 )

❝ goodbyes hurt when the story is not finished, but the book is closed. tell me, have we started a new one? ❞

description: it had been years since you and kageyama broke up. it had been years since the two of you left each other, hatred brewing. fate works in funny ways, you thought, as you caught his eye across the café. love works in funny ways, you thought, as you woke up in his bed the next morning, his fiance calling his phone.

genre: forbidden love, cheating, ex lovers, (all characters are aged up)

word count: 2,109

warnings/notes: im so sorry for the delayed update!! midterms have been kicking my ass. anyway. only one part left!

tag list: @kara-grayson04​ @sadhwstudent​ @unlikelytigerqueen​ @kageyamavibes​ @monviemoo​ @tazzi-baby​ @1800xibal​ @amirahroronoa​ @lozzybowe​ @stinkybitch1919​​ @sillykittt​​ @pinknugget​​ @celamoon​​ @bokutosworld​​ @elianetsantana​​ @chao01248​​ @vhskenma​​ @yoitsseulgi​​ @milegonzalez96​​ @doremifa-so-fucking-done​​ @cuddlejeongin​​ @yeahhemmings-​ @melanieacademy​ @killuaking​ @animewhore28​

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The second that the words left Oikawa’s mouth, he was paralyzed. He hadn’t expected to say it. His eyes were wide, skin flushed and mouth agape. Surprise and regret immediately masked his anger.

He couldn’t even move as you turned and left.

Let’s paint the picture, shall we? You, a girl who still had an incredible amount of love for your ex boyfriend to the extent that you were comfortable being the mistress in his affair. Kageyama, said ex boyfriend who still had a lot of unresolved feelings for you to the point where he had considered (on more than one account) disregarding his entire upcoming wedding. And Oikawa, your best friend and fuck buddy for the past five plus years who had just accidentally revealed that he was, in fact, in love with you.

Let’s just say that you walked a lot that day.

You walked through the city until the sky turned dark. You walked along the neon lights, through the park, and back into the city streets. You walked near the water, you walked past hundreds of people. It was incredibly melodramatic.

It wasn’t until you realized that you were actually tired, and your feet hurt, that you sat on a bench. It was pretty secluded. The bench sat facing the water, the city behind it, and you did nothing but sit.

A body sat beside yours, on the complete opposite side of the bench with as much space as possible between you. You almost giggled to yourself, despite everything.

“Hey.” The person spoke, and you knew who it was. There was only one person on the face of the earth that would take it upon themselves to be that respectful to sit on the opposite side of the bench you were sitting alone at, at night.

“Hey, Hinata.” You looked up at him. He’d grown a lot since high school.

“You found my bench.”

“Your bench?”

He chuckled, making you smile. “No, not my bench. But the bench I like to sit at when I have a lot to think about.”

“So, you would sit and think about volleyball on this bench?”

“Yeah.” He smiled brightly. There’s something about Shoyo Hinata that made it impossible not to smile. “It’s really pretty here. And there’s a lot of good food behind us.”

You turned back to the water, eyes scanning for answers.

“I’m still in love with Kageyama.” You told him.

“I know.”

“And Oikawa just told me that he was in love with me.”

“Wait, really? Finally!” He stopped himself. “I mean. I knew that, too.”

“Does everyone tell you everything?”

“Yeah, usually.” He moved a little bit closer, but not by much. “If you think you know someone’s secrets, I’m sure I already know about it.”

“Even Tsuki?”

“You mean how Hana cheated on him with Kageyama and now you are going to the wedding with him, him being Tsuki, to make them both jealous?”

“Damn. You’re insane.”

“Nah, I’m just a short stack of secrets.”

Another bubble of laughter. 

“You don’t plan to ruin the wedding, do you?” Hinata asked. 

You shook your head. “No, no. We aren’t monsters. We just want to make the two of them shake in their boots a bit. There’s way too much money being spent for us to ruin the wedding. Besides, I would somehow end up being the one sending out apology letters to family and friends for coming.”

“Yeah that would be embarrassing.”

The wedding was the next day.

You didn’t go to the rehearsal, and even took it upon yourself to stay the night at Tsukishima’s.

When you arrived at his door with a bag (that you quickly snatched of necessities from Kageyama and Hana’s), Tsuki just opened the door and simply asked you to join him in watching a murder mystery podcast. You accepted.

“Why can’t I wear a fucking suit?” You complained as you shoved yourself into the nicest dress you owned. It was beautiful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, and hugged you in exactly the right places. You just hated the process of getting ready.

“Because you look great in that dress. Now hurry up because we don’t want to be the only ones late.”

You left Tsuki’s bathroom in full glam.

You watched Tsuki’s eyes shift from your chest to your eyes. You smirked. “I guess the dress works.”

“It definitely works.” Tsuki rolled his eyes, bringing his arm up for you. You linked your arm through.

“You guys have fun!!” Yamaguchi called from the living room. You waved as you walked by. “Holy shit, you guys look likes gods.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you cuss.” You said.

“You’ve obviously never talked to him.” Tsuki scoffed. “We’ll be back later. Or, at least, I will be.”

“Don’t die. And don’t kill anyone!”

“No promises.”

Tobio Kageyama always thought that on his wedding day, you would be the one walking down the aisle in white.

He would never admit it; but to be completely honest, he had thought about it a lot during the duration of your relationship. He had imagined standing at the end of the aisle and you walking down, and kissing you as man and wife. It was a stupid imagination for a high school relationship, but he did imagine it.

He watched as you walked into the building by yourself. He was greeting everyone, welcoming them before the wedding and telling the women where to find Hana in her dressing room.

You were absolutely stunning in the most brilliant red dress he had ever seen. The wedding was white and blue, and you stood out in the most amazing way he had ever witnessed.

Kageyama couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you turn to the door, where Tsukishima just entered. His stomach churns when he sees you greet him with a hug and the two of you laugh at something Tsukishima said. And he hates how evidently the man is your date.

He has to physically stop himself from chasing after you when you pull Tsuki by the hand and drag him through the sea of bodies to where a few members of the old volleyball team are (ie Hinata, Daichi, Suga, and Noya).

His heart leaps violently against the bones of his chest when a thought floods into his mind. The thought that you were with Tsukishima, the thought that you knew of everything that happened since you’ve been gone.

He felt as though he couldn’t breathe.

You kept yourself at Tsuki’s side the entire time.

There was a little get together before the actual wedding. Everyone just stood around and chatted with everyone that they only get to see once a year, greeting the groom and making him more nervous. After a bit, it would be time to sit down and watch the ceremony.

The thought made you want to eat dirt.

Tsuki put his hand on your waist and you looked up at him. The two of you were still in the middle of talking to the old volleyball boys, Hinata talking about his travels.

“He can’t take his eyes off of you.” Tsuki muttered into your hair. It wasn’t unnoticed by Daichi and Suga, who just exchanged a look (as they always seemed to be all knowing).

“Just wait until Hana gets her eyes on you.” You lean into his side. “She won’t make it down the aisle.”

He chuckled and placed a kiss on your temple, feeling the eyes of Kageyama on your back.

“The man of the hour.” Daichi spoke up.

Kageyama appeared beside you. Tsuki’s hand stayed on your waist.

“How are you feeling?” Suga asked, eyes shifting between you and him. You could swear he knew more than you could ever imagine.

“Good, good.” Kageyama plastered a fake smile on his face. “Just nervous.”

“Well that’s normal.”

“Can I borrow her for a second?” Kageyama turned to Tsukishima. You blinked. “I just have to talk to her for a second.”

“Yeah.” Tsuki let go of your waist. He sent you a look, basically telling you to fuck the shit outta him in the broom closet.

“I’ll be right back!” you sent them a smile.

Kageyama looked absolutely delicious in his suit. Black, with a little bit of blue accents throughout. It brought out his eyes. You couldn’t focus as you followed him to an empty room.

“Hey.”

“If you have something you have to say, you could’ve said it out there.”

“No I.” I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I should just leave with you right now and run away and get married and live in a forest. I am so sorry. I am so sorry. Instead, “What are you doing here with Tsukishima?”

“What do you mean? He’s my date.” You shrugged.

“Yes. But why?”

“You expected me to come to your wedding by myself?” You blinked. “Or, rather, you expected Tsuki to come by his lonesome?”

“No, I…”

“That’s a bit selfish, don’t you think Kags?” You felt anger rising in your chest. “To think that I can’t have a date to a wedding when you’re literally getting married.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” You were exasperated. “It’s incredibly clear how you think of me, Kageyama. But as for someone who will never be loved by anyone, it’s nice to go to a wedding with…”

“You’re loved by me!”

It was the first time in Kageyama’s life where he truly understood what earth-shattering silence was. It was deafening and loud; too loud. He stood there motionless as the howling of his blood pumping in his head, his heartbeat inside his chest. You were silent.

His world seemed to have stopped the second he had said those words to you. The moment those words left his lips, he wished to take them back. Not because they were lies, but because it was the first time he had said them in the most honest way possible.

You shook your head.

You shook your head and Kageyama’s world shattered. He knew that he had hurt you, over and over and time and time again. But he had done it. He had hurt you to the point that you would simply shake your head at the confession of his love.

Whatever was left of whatever the hell was still there was gone.

“Kags,” You closed your eyes. “You don’t. I’m not.”

“I do.” He reached for your hand. You backed away.

“Me and Tsuki coming to your wedding together was not to get you to tell me that you love me.” You were muttering. You were babbling. You couldn’t do this. “It was to get you jealous, yes, but.. not this. Maybe rile you up. Get Hana to admit her bullshit for sure. But not… not this.”

“I…”

“You are getting married today.” You reminded him. “To Hana. You’re getting married to her. Today. And I cannot do another confession like that.”

“Who else has confessed to you?”

“Oikawa.” You said before you could think.

“Tooru Oikawa told you that he was in love with you?” Kageyama laughed as though it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. You basically heard your heart break.

“See? That right there?” You headed for the door. “That’s why you can’t possibly be in love with me. You’re so fucking convinced that I can’t be loved by anyone because I fucking moved away in high school. Jesus, Kageyama, get over it!”

“Sorry, sorry.” He was literally wiping tears from his face. “It’s just. I knew it. I fucking knew it.” He stopped when he seen your face. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Seriously fuck you.” You moved to open the door to go back to your date and get ready for the ceremony. Because this was for Tsuki, not you.

You started to walk out, but turned to him with a glance over your shoulder. “By the way, I’ve been in love with you for years. This shouldn’t be new information.”

You didn’t stay to gauge his reaction.

[angelsswirl]

Petrichor

Two

"Cupid must have wrote a love story in the dark. Oh, sloppy Cupid. Doomed us from the start."

"Walk me through it one more time." Yeri's lip quivered as she tried not to laugh. And she was trying really, really hard.

"No, you're going to laugh." A petulant pout overtook Chaeyoung's lips. It's an odd look on her. She's sitting in a desk chair that anyone else would probably describe as something just shy of a throne. And she's dressed head to toe in an Armani suit that someone else picked out for her.

Yeri, her assistant, shook her head profusely. If she was going to laugh, she would have done it already. She was simply holding it in for Chaeyoung's sake. If it were anyone else she would have cracked up in their face, but her boss seemed quite miffed with the situation.

"I promise I won't." She insisted. Rosé narrowed her eyes, then sighed. She grabbed her heart-shaped stress ball off of her mahogany desk. She threw it into the air once, twice, three times before speaking.

"I saw her walk in and may or may not have dropped a 15 pound weight on my toe. She got on the elliptical and it wouldn't work, so I decided that was my opening. I walked over, kicked it with the same probably broken foot, then I asked her out. There." Rosé glared at her assistant who snickered profusely.

"Now hold on. You're forgetting a part." Yeri looked down at the legal pad that had been sitting in her lap. She perused the page before tapping on a particular spot.

"Ah hah! You pulled a business card out of your fucking gym shorts like an absolute psychopath." This must be the final nail in the coffin as she finally howled in laughter, "I'm surprised any of that actually worked. Are you sure she gave you her actual number and not someone else's? Like a cop's?"

"We'll address the fact that you're taking notes on my love life in your quarterly evaluation, but to answer your question I have no idea. I completely embarrassed myself in front of her, but she was smiling like she found it cute."

Yeri eyed the look on her employer's face, "You know I'm just messing with you, Rosie. I'm sure you completely charmed her. Besides, there's only one way to find out." Yeri nodded her head towards Chaeyoung's personal phone which had been haphazardly placed on top of a stack of meeting notes.

"You're right. I need to redeem myself." Chaeyoung grabbed her phone, and searched for your name in her contacts.

Yeri rolled her eyes. Alphas were so weird. She's about to leave the office and give Rosé some semblance of privacy, when a framed picture, sitting on one of the many counters in the room, catches her eye.

"Hey, Rosie. Hate to burst your bubble, but are we just supposed to act like Joy doesn't exist?"

Rosé gave a heavy pause, she sighed and looked up at Yeri, "We've been broken up for two months, so yes we are supposed to pretend like she doesn't exist."

"Yeah, but I don't know if that's how that works."

Rosé sounded tired when she spoke next, "Just drop it, Yeri." She ran a hand through her blonde hair.

Yeri sighed and shook head, "Fine. Don't forget you have a meeting with Spectrum at 12:30 this afternoon."

"I won't. Thank you." Yeri let the door close behind her.

~•~

"Could you knock for once? What if I was naked?" Jisoo frowned as she padded into her livingroom, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Why would you walk around naked? You're roommates with a two year old alpha. She'd most definitely try to punch you in the dick." The intruder exclaimed as she pushed passed Jisoo into the kitchen area.

"Roommate would imply that she pays rent. I keep telling her to get a job, but everytime I do she just stares at me then asks for more cheerios. I'm all cheerio-ed out!" Jisoo gripped her hair dramatically.

"Which is exactly why I bought you some real breakfast." As if on queue the sound of small feet slapping furiously against hardwood is heard.

"How do you keep escaping your jail cell?" Jisoo asked, peering down at her daughter with a confused glare.

"Stop calling her crib a jail cell."

"There's bars. I lock those bars. And she's supposed to not be able to get out of those bars. Sounds plenty like a jail cell to me. One time she even ran her sippy cup along the bars and started playing the harmonica."

"Aunt 'Rene!" Lia shouted. She had a wonderful knack for distracting her aunt so she didn't choke her mother to death.

"Hi, Lia. Are you hungry?"

Lia nodded happily.

"She likes to act like she'll starve here. I feed you, too." Lia just stared blankly at her mother as she chewed on a piece of pancake Irene handed her.

"Anyway. Why am I here?"

Jisoo's brows furrowed, "I don't know. You just showed up."

"No. You texted me last night asking me to come over."

Jisoo raised an eyebrow as she checked her phone. It was very plausible. Sounded like something she would do, but she'd be lying if she said she had any recollection of doing it.

The One With The Kid : v v upset. Told cutteeee omega me lifes storie. Wanna sEx her but Jenn3i look at me mean. Pls cum huggg my. Read at 10:03 pm.

"Wow. Drunk at only ten o'clock? I might have a problem."

"You think?"

"Well, it looks like I already told you why you're here. I told a very cute omega my entire life's story and I was totally going to go home with her if Jennie hadn't have ruined it. And I was like completely sober at that point."

"Do you still want that hug?"

"Will you try to choke me?"

"Probably."

"Then yes."

"Sometimes I wonder if your child is actually parenting you instead of the other way around." Irene rolled her eyes then got to setting up the rest of the food she had brought.

"So, what actually happened last night. I'm sure Jennie threw an absolute rager." Irene chuckled at her own joke.

"Y/N made the same joke."

"Who the fu-heck is Y/N?"

"The cute omega. She walked into the kitchen, where I was hiding. We got to talking and I don't know, I just started telling her things." Jisoo explained as she calmly pulled a piece of pancake her daughter would have most definitely choked on out of her hands. She handed it back to her after ripping it in half.

"Do you think-"

"You know, I hate that question."

Irene sighed and poked at her eggs, "It has to be asked, Chu. When was the last time you voluntarily gave any type of information about yourself to a stranger?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Maybe she's the one." Irene shrugged, she eyed her best friend. Jisoo just sat silently and watched her daughter eat.

"I don't know. She saw my phone background and asked about it. And I only hesitated a little bit. She smelled great." Jisoo's eyes took on a bit of a dreamy look, and Irene just chuckled to herself.

"Did she recognize you?"

"Not at first, but I guess I said something and it jogged her memory. She said she had seen some of my videos in her classes."

Irene's eyes widened dramatically, "Oh my God, Chu. How old is she?!"

"She's friend's with Jennie and Lisa. Met them in college, so I'm assuming she's talking about Grad school." Jisoo laughed as the turmoil slowly drained from Irene's face.

"That was close. So, she knows about the kid, your job, and she still didn't run for the hills? Please, tell me you got this girl's number."

"....But you don't like it when I lie to you."

"Jisoo!" Irene admonished.

Lia, assuming this is just a game of word association yelled as well, "Mama!"

"What?! After Jennie walked in she just abruptly left. She had a class this morning." Jisoo shrugged.

"Chu, it's Saturday."

"Oh yeah."

"Then why did she leave? What did Jennie say exactly?"

"She glared at me a bit when she saw me with her. She said Lisa had been looking for Y/N, but Y/N didn't really seem to care. Then Jennie left. Y/N said that was weird, then she said she had to go. That was it. I think she noticed Jennie being weird to me, and it scared her off somehow."

Irene nodded as she listened, "Why was Jennie glaring at you anyway? I thought you guys were cool with each other again."

"I never try to venture into Jennie's mind. I imagine I'd go insane. I think she was just being an alpha really. She probably thought she had an obligation to protect her." Jisoo shrugged once more, "It's okay. If I really wanted her number I'd just get it from Lisa."

"You should really want her number."

Jisoo didn't say anything. She just chewed the inside of her lip as she continued to monitor her daughter's eating.

~•~

"Should I have dressed up a little more?" You asked, self consciously looking down at your sweater and skinny jeans.

"Oh, no! Sorry, I just came from work." Rosé gestured at her suit with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

"Well you look nice."

"So do you." Rosé smiled at you softly. She held the door opened for you.

"Did you want anything?" Chaeyoung gestured to the menu floating over the baristas heads.

"Um, sure a white chocolate mocha, please."

Chaeyoung nodded, "An excellent choice. I think I discovered the drug of coffee back in college. A white chocolate mocha was my gateway drug into plain black. I'm thinking about enrolling my self into coffee-holics anonymous."

You laughed lightly, "I totally understand. I don't think I'd pass my midterms if I didn't have at least two shots of espresso on study nights."

Chaeyoung placed your orders and patiently waited for it to be filled, "What are you studying?"

"I'm earning my master's in education. Would love to be an administrator some day." A big smile spread across your face and Rosé couldn't help but find it contagious.

"You'd make a wonderful administrator one day, I'm sure." When the order is ready, Rosé retrieved them and lead the two of you toward an alcove in the back of the coffeeshop.

"Thank you. Everyone thinks I'm crazy for staying in school so long."

"Do you think it will be beneficial for you in the long run?" Rosé asked as she took a sip of her black coffee.

"Absolutely."

"Then fuck what they think." Rosé said matter of factly. There's a spark in your eye that sort of snatched her breathe right out of her chest.

"That's a bit easier said than done. But, enough about me. What do you do that's got you so dressed up?"

Chaeyoung's eyes widened a bit. She was hoping that she could avoid that question. People always seem to freak out a bit when they realize she'd could probably buy a private island for them if she wanted to.

"I work at a marketing agency. Royal Collective."

"That large as fuck building like right next to central park?!" You asked excitedly. You walked passed that place all of the time. And it was hard to miss, considering it was one of the taller buildings around instead of normal glass windows, the windows had curated, colorful graffiti all over them.

"That's the one." Chaeyoung prided herself on keeping her financial status private. Not many people knew who ran Royal Collective and it was going to stay that way.

"That must be so cool. Does your office have a nice view?"

"It does ac-" Rosé is cut off by the sound of her phone ringing. She sighed discreetly.

"I'm sorry. I have to take this." She stepped a few feet away, and answered the phone.

"I know you're on your little date but we're going to need you to come back in. The CEO of Spectrum is having a tantrum in your office." Yeri's voice does sound apologetic, but she can also hear the humor as she listened to the grown man in the other room scream and cry.

"I'll be there soon." Rosé hung up the phone, then took a deep breath. She turned back around toward you with a slight grimace.

"I'm so sorry. But there's an emergency at work and I have to handle it. Do you mind if we cut this short?"

You stood up quickly, "Not at all. I understand."

Rosé sighed in relief, "Thank you. I'll call you." She kissed you on the cheek before all but sprinting out of there.

You blushed heavily.

~•~

You hated Sundays. Somehow, they're your busiest day of the week. Which, doesn't make sense because you don't have classes on Sundays.

Though, this Sunday is serving to be a bit better than the rest. You were able to get the rest of your classwork done the previous day, so you were free to do whatever you wanted.

You eventually decided on going to your favorite pizza place. It's only around the corner from your apartment, and you've got cravings.

You walked into the small hole in the wall a bit preoccupied with your phone.

You all but rammed into someone just as you crossed the threshold. You're about to lose your balance, when the person grabbed your waist firmly.

"Where's the fire?"

Your looked up with a gasp. Maybe if you weren't so close you'd have something more articulate to say other than "Oh".

"Sorry, Jisoo." You breathed out. Jisoo just chuckled lightly before letting you go.

"It's okay. You might want to look up from your phone at least once next time, though."

You blushed heavily and looked down in embarrassment. It's then that you realized Jisoo isn't alone.

You smiled softly at the small girl hiding partly behind her mother's legs.

"Hello, I'm sorry I ran into your mom, but she's firm. I'm sure she's fine." Lia looked up to her mother for confirmation. Jisoo gave the child a thumbs up.

Lia waddled out from behind her mom. She seemed interested in you for about two more seconds before the claw machine tucked in the corner catches her eye.

"Hm. Normally she hates meeting new people." Jisoo watched as her daughter toddled over to the machine she couldn't reach.

"Kids can be odd." You shrugged, as if it was as easy as that.

"So...come here often?" Jisoo wondered if there was a set of subway stairs she could throw herself down, because what the fuck was that?

"Yes, actually. I live around the corner, and Sal here has the best pizza in this entire state." You nodded toward the owner of the restaurant.

"Never been here before actually. One of my friend's recommended it."

"Smart friend."

"Irene has her moments." Jisoo shrugged. Speaking of Irene, now was her chance. Irene would murder her in cold blood if she found out Jisoo had the opportunity to get your number and then didn't.

"Uh, did you want to maybe-can I get your number?" Those subway stairs have to be close, right?

"Yeah. If you hadn't have said anything, I probably would have asked for yours." Jisoo handed you her phone and watched deftly as you put your number in.

"I would have said yes." The pair laugh until they're interrupted by your phone ringing.

You pulled it out of your back pocket and took a glimpse at the screen.

'Rosé🥀🌹' flashed across it.

It's then that you realize you have a problem.

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part seven

summary: You’re not jealous of the fact that girls on Tinder love George, you’re not. John may or may not be sexually attracted to metaphors. Paul may or may not have a professor kink. Ringo is just vibin’ like always. Gigi Hadid terrorizes your dreams. Oh, and y’all finally get the McLennon sandwhich you asked for.

warnings: 2k words of the usual bullshit, some english major bashing, actually it’s just john bashing ( sorry @spaceyantique​ ), i love english majors, and miscommunication babey!

masterlist and parts one | two | three | four | five | six

i’m writing this draft at 3 am. it’s a new low for me. oh, and the poem mentioned in geo’s tinder is lyrics from ‘for you blue’

“Well, it is a flattering picture.”

You have to agree with Ringo. The two of you are perched on the couch, peeking over George’s shoulder at the Tinder profile. John and Paul are sharing the armchair, snickering at something. Probably another scheme. Bastards…

The photo is the one John had snapped a few days ago of George in the kitchen. He’s got this brilliant smile on his face, just having taken his first warm shower in weeks, and he’s gloriously naked from the belly button up. It’s a little blurry, but it captures George’s happiness—though you privately think that no picture could ever really do the boy justice. Take that, stupid Tinder girls.

“‘George.’” Ringo reads the bio out loud. “‘Twenty-one. Majoring in horticultural science, looking for a girl to put the ‘ho’ into it.’ This is terrible,” he says rather gleefully. George turns around and gives his friend a betrayed look.

“You missed the best bit. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You looked at me, that’s all you had to do.’ What’s that?”

George goes stock still. Slowly, his head turns to John and you swear you can hear it creak like a door hinge.

“You.” The word shakes from his throat with a quiet rage. “You looked through mY DIARY???”

“YOU HAVE A DIARY?” Ringo screeches. Paul has the common sense to look a little frightened, but his boyfriend, who borrows a brain cell from Paul from time to time, does not.

“You write beautiful poetry, George,” John croons, and you have to physically hold George down to keep him from tackling the dumbass. Paul, getting flashbacks to the Shower Debacle, shudders.

You, on the other hand, are trying to wrap your head around the bio. Poetry? About who? That didn’t sound like it was about just anybody. Lucky girl, your mind hisses. Or boy. You immediately try recalling every single time George has brought up a classmate. Your brain sputters a bit and spits out an answer to one of the questions you’d skipped on your first midterm yesterday. Except now it’s fucking useless, isn’t it????

Ringo speaks, bringing you out of your downward spiral into insanity. “Hey, the app says you’ve got a match.”

Frowning, George taps on the notification. “But I haven’t even looked at anyone’s profile.”

“I did you a favor and swiped right a couple o’ times,” John says. George groans—no, the sound does not turn you on a little—and hangs his head forward. By ‘a couple,’ John must’ve meant a couple hundred, because George’s phone is blowing up. The only thing keeping George from hurtling the phone right into John’s smarmy little meerkat grin so hard that he shits pieces of it out for weeks is your hand on him. The warmth of it is radiating out from his shoulder to his chest and sweeping down to his toes. When you take your hand away a few seconds later, thinking it had overstayed its welcome, George has to try very hard not to sigh.

“This one is cute,” Ringo comments. The notification had read ‘Maureen Super Likes You!’ and the phone screen is now showing a pretty brunette, around your age, smiling up at George.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested.”

He didn’t say she wasn’t cute.

“Wait, wait!” John scrambles out of his armchair, nearly pushing Paul off in the process. George’s thumb pauses where it’s hovering over the ‘delete’ button for the app. “Come on, Geo. You haven’t gone out in years. Like, since high school. Since… since…”

“Pattie,” Ringo says. You and Ringo hadn’t known the other three in high school, but, as always, he was good with names.

Pattie? George has never mentioned a Pattie...

“Yeah, Pattie!” John lights up. You wish people would stop saying her name. “Pattie Boyd. Man, she was a catch… I still remember her blonde hair. And those long legs. She looked like, uh… who’s that model?”

“Bridget Bardot.” Ringo, again.

Paul is mirroring the sour look on your face, though he obviously has a better reason for it.

“No, who the fuck is that? I meant Gigi Hadid. Isn’t that why you dated her?”

“She did not/” George protests. “And no, John, unlike some people, I care about more than just looks.”

At this point, Paul looks as though he’s about to cry. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m more than looks, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t mean you, obviously.” But George’s words are lost under John, who leaps back into the armchair and coos at his boyfriend.

“Macca, you know I love you for more than your looks. You’ve got that big old brain, and you’re the best artist in this whole school… it’s just a bonus you’re so pretty too.”

Paul seems satisfied by this. Stupid fucking English major. John could get anything his way with just a few words.

“John’s right, y’know.” You and Ringo mouth ‘y’know’ at each other and erupt into giggles. “You’ve got to put yourself out there more. You’re in your third year of uni and you haven’t even dated a single person. There’s only one more year before you’re out in the real world! And the sea will be much, much bigger then.”

George scowls, unimpressed by Paul’s little speech. “People aren’t fish, Paul. And I’m vegetarian, so I don’t condone catching them.”

“It’s a metaphor!” Paul cries, throwing his hands in the air. John nods and makes eyes at him as if metaphors were the sexiest thing in the world. He’s probably into that. English majors.

“You tell ‘em, babe.”

The doorbell rings, banishing any homicidal thoughts from your mind.

“That’ll be the takeout,” you say. George flies so quickly to the door, desperate to get out of the situation, that you feel a little gust of wind. You hear him say something to the delivery person and then he’s coming back into the living room, take out boxes in tow and a big smile on his face. Nothing makes the boy happier than food. And maybe leggy blondes that look like Gigi Hadid, your brain suggests, and you sigh.

For a good ten minutes, the conversation is put on hold. You’re all broke college students, after all, and getting Chinese is like a luxury.

“What’d you get?” you ask through a mouthful of food, looking over George’s shoulder. He’s sat back down on the floor in front of the couch again and he lifts the box up so you can see it.

“Veggies with fried noodles. You?”

“Same.”

“Twinsies,” George says solemnly, and you high five over it.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, John and Paul share an eyeroll.

“I got shrimp fried rice if anyone cares,” Ringo pipes up from next to you. You bump your shoulder into his.

“Of course I care, Ritchie. Wanna trade a shrimp for my broccoli?”

He nods and you both chopstick over the terms of the trade. George’s grin drops a little. John and Paul roll their eyes even harder.

After a while, having devoured their food like it’s the Last Supper, you’ e all pulled out your phones. You scroll through Instagram and send a funny post to the flat’s group chat, and everyone laughs simultaneously. Everyone except George, who… has opened Tinder again. Christ, how does he have so many matches?

Well, why wouldn’t he? He’s cute… and funny… and gives the best advice when you’re down…

And you’ll be sharing all that with some other girl if you don’t do something about it.

“Why do these girls keep asking about my teeth?”

You scoff, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. George’s sexy vampire teeth are yours and yours alone to appreciate, thankyouverymuch. “Probably have oral fixations, the lot of them.”

John does a whole body shudder and you all turn to stare at him. “Don’t fucking talk to me about Freud. That Psych course tore my GPA into shreds.”

“Right, like you care about your grades so much.” You lean back against the couch. “What was so bad about that class, anyway? I enjoyed it.”

“Professor Pang fucked me.”

“WHAT—”

“Fucked me over! Jesus, I dunno why my mouth just had a seizure there.” John cradles Paul’s face in his hands, trying to smooth away the frown on his face. “Paul, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s a Freudian slip, that is,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when John turns to glare at you. Ringo starts humming Hot For Teacher under his breath. John leans over and smacks him.

“The only teacher I’ve got the hots for is you,” John says, turning back to Paul, and you and George make gagging noises. “Professor McCartney…”

“Professor?” Paul’s Pout (yes, with a capital P) turns into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“I think I’ve been bad… shall I serve detention for you?”

“Okay, just go!” You point towards their bedroom. “Please leave the immediate vicinity right fucking now.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” George says. The two horny bastards giggle and scurry off in the direction of your finger, door slamming behind them.

You go to bed that night with a belly full of noodles and a brain full of thoughts that keep you turning and tossing in bed. And when you finally do fall asleep, you dream about Gigi Hadid, cackling as she chases you around with George’s stupid little towel.

***

Your second exam the next day goes miserably.

Okay, maybe you’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad—you’d done a fair bit of studying that weekend, invigorated to overcome the Coffee Incident. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about George the whole time, and him swiping through Tinder, and whoever the hell that Pattie girl is.

Okay, stop it. You can’t hate her for dating the boy you like. Us women have to support each other, the rational part of your brain tells you.

You grumble all the way back to the flat, fighting with the reasonable part of you. Eventually, you give in. Rational You is right. Hating on a chick you don’t know is what makes up eighty percent of Hollywood’s bullshit romcoms. Yes, you are going to be a good person and take the high route.

That all goes away when you open the door.

John and Paul are standing in the kitchen, whispering furiously to each other. You only catch the tail end of what they’re saying—

“-didn’t think he was actually going to do it!”

—before John sees you in the doorway and smacks Paul on the shoulder.

“Heyyy there,” John says. You immediately know something is wrong. You walk shut the door behind you and eye Paul’s smile warily.

“What are you two doing?”

“Erm, we were making a sandwich for you.” Paul gestures exaggeratedly at the plate on the counter, which John holds up at shoves in your direction.

“Yeah, we knew you’d need a little pick me up after the test.”

You look around the flat carefully. It’s awfully quiet. Ringo’s at his twelve o’clock lecture, but you should be able to hear…

“Where’s George?”

This slaps the smile right off of their faces and neither of the boys can put it back on quickly enough for you to not notice.

“He’s doing yoga,” Paul says at the same time John blurts out,

“He went to visit his mum!”

Paul glares at John and you feel something twist in your gut. “Yes, you see...” Paul looks frantically to the ceiling. God won’t help you out of this one. “George went to pick up his mum… and they’re at yoga together!”

You walk into the kitchen, crossing your arms. “Louise lives in Liverpool,” you say slowly.

“Yup,” John says.

“And the yoga studio is ten minutes away from our flat.”

“Yuuup.”

You can’t believe he’s still keeping this up. “And the drive from here to Liverpool is four hours. And George doesn’t have a car.”

“Yuuuuuuuuu—”

“Oh, I can’t take it anymore,” Paul cries, ignoring John’s frantic shushing. “George went on a date with that Maureen girl from Tinder. He’s at the coffee shop now.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You must’ve said this out loud, because Paul gives you a sympathetic look. After a long moment of silence, John once again offers you the plate.

“Sandwich?” he asks, trying for a smile that comes across more as a grimace.

You take the sandwich and throw it right into the trash, plate and all.

[ener-chi]

Update time!

Life has been so crazy for me lol I’ve been insanely busy with school; midterms were this week. Oh I definitely need to talk about this. I have an older car, and it had some problems that I knew should probably get addressed. Well this past week I finally got around to taking my car into the shop, and... it wasn’t pretty lol. I put the minimum money necessary to keep it functional, but I’m going to have to be very careful driving it now.

But it’s interesting, because prior to this week I did food delivery as a part-time job. But now... with the stuff going on with my car... I don’t see that as a possibility. But when I first had this realization... there was some resistance initially, because I loved doing it. But I also recognized... this feeling, that it was meant to be this way. It felt like I was being gently nudged by the Universe towards a different direction, to do something else. I’ve decided not to fight it, and just let it happen as it needs to happen. But I am interested to see where I end up working next.

Anyways... RAMA started this week, and so far it’s going really well!! I have a great class; I’m very excited to delve deeper into the course with my students. It’s fun hearing their insights and how they see things, and it also helps me better suit the course for their needs.

Spiritually... things have been interesting, for sure. Just because I’m thinking about it, last night was Samhain. I didn’t end up really doing anything for it, although I did notice that the Veil was definitely thinner; I kept getting flashes of other realms, and memories... I had like this one particular flash of two other versions of me sitting under the same moonlight... 

You can tell I’ve been doing more past-life work. It’s just so... interesting to me. The whole experience... the way it feels, how it’s experienced, trying to figure out what it means, the way that they are starting to thread together, the crying every time. For whatever reason, I just like... cry, even when I get glimpses of them. The crazy thing is that historically, and even now - I’m not a crier. It takes a lot to make me cry. But with past lives stuff... I’m just out here weeping lol.

Anywaysss I’ve been spending a decent amount of time in the Astral, but I haven’t really had a whole lot of control. Well... I’m in control of myself, but I don’t really have control as to where I go. I’m kind of getting tugged too and fro, between places. I spend a lot of time in the cosmic place, doing past life stuff. Lately, for some reason I’ve been going to this like... water place. It kind of looks like a salt-flat place covered in water. I can walk on the water, but it looks like it’s just an almost infinite horizon of just flat, still water. It also kind of looks like that one part of Spirited Away, where the train is on the water... except minus the train. Anyways, I find myself there a lot for some reason. I’m not sure why; I don’t really know where it is, and there’s not really anyone else there. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I’ve also been working with Skadi more. Her power and presence grows each day, as it gets colder and closer to winter. Today she actually kind of gave me an energy upgrade while I did a long meditation session. I go back to my hometown soon, which I’m excited for because it gets a lot of snow and I’m excited to work with Skadi in that aspect.

I’ve been feeling kinda weird and like somewhat irritable all day... I thought that I was just having an off-day or maybe I slept weird, but I realized like half-an-hour ago that it’s actually the full moon lol. It’s like... exciting my energy in a weird way. But now that I’m aware of it, I should be able to not let it affect me as much.

Hmm... I think that’s it for now. I hope that everyone has a great rest of their night.

Blessings!

[avatarnao]

A Million Dreams CH. 4

Pairing: Zukka, Kataang

Soulmate AU, College AU, Roommate AU

First, Previous, Next

A03

******

Monday

“My own nephew! Can you believe it?”

“Iroh’s in rare form today,” Suki comments, leaning closer to Sokka so they can speak quietly. Sokka huffs out a laugh and he can’t help but agree. Their professor paces back and forth at the front of the lecture all, ranting and raving about his nephew’s latest antics. “What’s got him riled up today?”

“He said tea was just hot leaf water,” Sokka fills her in, because Suki is consistently fifteen minutes late every class. It probably has something to do with her insane schedule and a class before this that’s on the opposite end of campus. He knows she must sprint to get to this class as on time as possible.

To be fair, his nephew is technically right. Not that Sokka would ever voice that outloud and to their professor. He’s pretty sure he’d fail immediately and be kicked out of class for the rest of the semester.

This class is only an elective and he’s taking it pass/fail but still…

Suki has that look on her face saying she agrees with his nephew but is wisely choosing to remain silent.

“Um… Professor?” someone chimes in from the front row. Iroh stops mid rant and turns to the student with a patient smile. “Not that this isn’t a good story but… what does this have to do with different types of plants?”

Professor Iroh stares at the student for a painfully long moment before rocking back on his heels with a laugh. He smacks his forward and moves over to his laptop to change to the next slide.

“Not all tea is made from the leaves of a plant,” he explains. On the screen is an image of two flowers. “The white dragon bush is known for producing a tea so delicious it’s heartbreaking. It requires the use of the flower and the leaves. They grow all over the eastern part of the Earth Kingdom, but be careful not to mistake the white jade bush for the white dragon bush for it is highly poisonous.”

Iroh gestures to the images of nearly identical flowers. “The one on the left is the white dragon and the one on the right is the white jade…” He pauses, squinting at the slide, and humming thoughtfully. “Or perhaps it’s the other way around…”

Sokka groans, sinking into his seat with a frown. Of course their professor can’t even tell the difference on a subject he’s supposedly an expert in….

“We have a saying for those plants on Kyoshi Island,” Suki comments. Her pen taps against the desk in thought as Iroh mutters to himself. “Delicious and rare is ruby red, but eat the white flower and you’ll be dead.” Sokka snorts.

“ That’s what you guys came up with?” he teases, though he makes a note of the saying. Never know what it might come in handy.

“It was part of the warriors’ survival training,” she tells him.

“No matter!” Iroh suddenly declares. “The plant is exceptionally rare so it’s unlikely for you to encounter it out in nature. If you do, however, accidentally consume the poisonous one, the antidote lies within the bacui berry.” He pauses again, thinking. “Or was it the maka’ole berry?”

Sokka groans again, sinking back into his seat.

Maybe he should’ve signed up for a different class….

Tuesday

Sokka’s nursing what is guaranteed to be a migraine come morning as he steps up to Katara’s place and gives a firm knock.The door slides open and he’s greeted with the wide-eyed gaze of Aang’s pet lemur.

“Hi, Momo,” he greets, frowning a little in confusion. Why is Momo answering the door? When did Momo even figure out how to open the door? Isn’t going out the window easier for the creature? “Are Aang and Katara here?”

Momo just blinks at him, chitters something, then swoops further into the house. Sokka follows him inside. He can hear the very muffled but very distinct yelling that is his sister’s voice. Her words may be indecipherable but Sokka’s been on the receiving end of that tone, and he’s not about to disturb that rant.

Instead, Sokka makes himself comfortable on the couch and turns the TV, idly flipping through channels for something to watch. Eventually, the yelling dies down, and Toph shuffles out of her room to join him on the couch.

“Do I even want to know what’s going on?” he asks her and she shrugs.

“Her and Sparky got into an argument at practice today,” Toph replies.

“Sparky?” Sokka mutters before the rest of her response clicks. “Wait… you’re on the team too? Why am I just now finding out about this?”

“They just announced who the starting benders would be, and today was our first day practicing together.” Oh… he supposes that makes sense… though why didn’t Katara say anything about Toph being on the team? Then again, they haven’t had much time for sibling bonding lately. They’ve both been kind of busy....

A frustrated sigh comes from the hall, and Sokka twists around to find Katara and Aang stepping into the room. Katara levels Toph with a disappointed frown.

“I told you not to put your feet on the table, Toph,” she snaps coming to a stop beside the couch. Her hands fall to her waist. “You’re getting it dirty.”

Sokka groans, head falling into his hand as the girls begin arguing over how clean their home should be. He came here to spend time with his sister and friends, not to listen to them argue. A flash of orange slides into his peripheral and Aang leans into his line of sight.

“Hey, Sokka,” he greets. His grin falls as he takes his friend in. “Are you okay?”

“Just a headache,” Sokka mutters, and Aang brightens.

“Oh! Do you want some medicine?”

There is nothing Sokka would love more than something to curb his headache. He eagerly follows Aang down the hall and away from the growing argument behind them.

“Have you been sleeping okay?” Aang asks as they enter an obscenely large bathroom. Sokka sits down on the toilet, taking in a space large enough to comfortably fit all four of them with room to spare.

“Midterms are coming up,” Sokka mumbles, shrugging. “So about as well as any student preparing for midterms.” Not to mention he’s been in the library every night until midnight trying to get a term paper done by Thursday. It’s mostly been Suki lecturing him for spending hours browsing the internet instead of researching or Zuko laughing at his horrible doodles. Sokka would be offended over the art student’s teasing but he’s just happy his roommate has decided to join their study sessions.

Logically, he knows he needs to start the paper, but the paper is nothing more than an in-depth analysis of Love Amongst the Dragons . He’s totally got that in the bag. There’s barely any research that needs to be done for it anyways, but Suki did spend a good forty-five minutes last night lecturing him on waiting until the last minute to get work done.

It’s not Sokka’s fault that he’s a master procrastinator… or that Zuko decided to join them and distract him with animal videos for hours on end.

Then there was that one night Zuko talked him into watching the mover based on the play and spent the whole time viciously tearing every detail apart. Sokka has no idea what the guy’s doing studying art when he should be a film critic. Zuko’s running commentary alone had Sokka in tears from laughing so hard. They’d had to pause at one point so Sokka could collect himself.

Okay... so maybe he’s been goofing off more than working but his paper is due on Thursday and that’s… two day away. He’s got plenty of time to work on it.

Sokka’s so lost in thought he doesn’t even realize Aang is speaking until pills are being put in front of his face. He blinks at Aang’s hand. Aang gives him a wide smile as he takes the medicine and downs it in one go.

“What was the question?” he asks.

“I was just wondering how your classes were going,” Aang says, not the least bit bothered over Sokka’s lack of attention. “Katara’s been spending a lot of time in her study lately, I guess for the same reason as you.” He shrugs. “Not that I really know what it’s like going to school.”

“Trust me,” Sokka tells him, rising from his seat. They begin making their way back to the girls. “I would take world adventures and experiences over reading about them in books.”

Unfortunately, Katara and Toph are far from ending their argument. If anything, Sokka notes, they seem to be winding up to really get into it. Top’s since moved off the couch, squaring up to Katara with a glare. She jabs a hard finger into Katara’s chest.

“It’s not his fault you moved right into his blindspot,” Toph snaps. Katara scoffs. Toph presses on before she can offer a rebuttal. “He was perfectly lined up to take the shot and you got in his way! Of course, he was going to hit you!”

“What,” Sokka snaps. Beside him, Aang sighs with the sort of resignation of one who’s heard this argument far too many times. He probably has, if Sokka’s being honest. This sounds like something Katara wouldn’t be able to let go of. Sokka frowns and glances at Aang, silently demanding an explanation.

“Nobody got hurt,” Aang says. “He managed to stop before Katara was actually hit but…” He frowns. “She’s still pretty upset about it.”

“He’s lucky we weren’t bending,” Katara snaps, rounding on Aang and Sokka with a frown of her own. “I could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

“We’re bending , Katara,” Toph growls. “Any one of us could get hurt by accident.”

“Then someone with better control should be on the team,” Katara growls back.

“If he lacked control, he would’ve hit you,” Toph shouts, arms flying in the air. Aang groans as Katara turns back around and glares at Toph. He gives Sokka a pleading look and Sokka can’t help but feel bad. Sokka thought his headache was bad. He’s willing to bet money Aang has the mother of all migraines brewing.

Sokka misses whatever Katara says, too lost in excuses to get him and Aang out of the house for a few hours. Toph’s retort, however, he hears clear as day.

“Wow,” she says, voiced tinged with barely contained fury. “Maybe you forgot, Katara, but I’m blind too. Does that mean I shouldn’t be on the team?”

Katara recoils as if she’s been slapped. Silence descends over the group of friends. Sokka spares a glance at Aang who’s watching the girls with shocked disappointment. Well…  this is not what he expected when he agreed to meet his friends for a night together. Sokka sucks in a breath and steps forward, prepared to play the role of reasonable older sibling.

“I don’t really know the whole story,” he begins. “But from what Toph told me, it sounds like you just started working together.” Katara levels him with a frown, looking as if she wants to argue but remaining quiet for the time being. Sokka will take it over her, interrupting him with some outrageous accusation. He presses on. “I think you just need to give it time and make an effort to work as a team.”

“Sokka’s right,” Aang says then, moving to stand next to his friend. “Nobody expects you guys to be perfect right away.”

Katara looks like she wants to argue but something in Aang’s gaze stops her. She huffs and stalks off towards her room. Toph drops back onto the couch with an angry scoff, bare feet slapping against the table.

“I’m sorry, Sokka…” Aang apologizes and why is Aang apologizing? None of this is his fault. “I know you just wanted to hang out and came over to all…” his hand gestures to where Katara once stood. “This…”

“Katara just needs some time to cool down,” Sokka replies. “Why don’t the three of us go pick up some dinner. Maybe she’ll be calmer when we get back.”

Toph leaps off the couch as Aang disappears to let Katara know they’re leaving. He comes back a few minutes later looking concerned but otherwise unbothered by his roommates’ argument.

They head off towards a local cafe.

Katara apologizes to Toph when they return.

They spend the rest of the night playing games and watching random shows on TV.

Sokka’s headache is long gone by the time he heads home for the night, and he finds himself more relaxed than he’s been in over a week. He grins at the thought as he makes his way back to campus, tired and ready to sleep.

Wednesday

“Before everyone goes for the day,” Iroh begins an actual minute before class is set to end. The class collectively groans but settles down for whatever he has to say next. From what Sokka can tell, the general consensus seems to be that Iroh’s a good guy. Strange teacher but good guy nonetheless.

Smiling to himself, Iroh begins handing out flyers to the front row, saying, “You may not know this, but I run a small tea shop just off campus. The Jasmine Dragon,” and his eyes positively sparkle with pride. “We’re having a special event for all my students this Saturday. Bring you friends for some free tea and a break from studying.”

“Well that’s convenient,” Suki mutters as a stack of flyers comes into her possession. She takes one and passes the rest back, studying the paper in her hand. A grin spreads across her face. “This is the tea shop I was telling you about.”

“I suppose it makes sense that the professor teaching tea history owns and runs the most popular tea shop in Ba Sing Se,” Sokka comments, handing off his own stack of flyers. He doesn’t take one. There’s no need if Suki has one herself.

“We should get the gang together and go,” she says as the class finally begins packing up to leave.

“I think Yue’s busy this weekend,” Sokka points out. She mentioned something the other day about preparing for a recital. Though maybe that was last week and he’s finally at that point in the semester where days blur together… “But Aang, Katara, and Toph might want to come?”

“And Zuko.”

“I can ask him…” he mutters, uncertain. Somehow Zuko strikes him as more of a coffee kind of person. He definitely gives off those ‘starving artist who’s been up for a week straight on a project due at midnight and in need of a caffeine fix’ vibes. Maybe he’d want to come and meet some more of Sokka’s friends though? Or is it too presumptuous that the guy doesn’t have friends of his own? In his defense, Sokka’s never seen him with anyone else or even mention knowing other people.

Sokka frowns at the thought, immediately feeling guilty. Just because the guy is quiet doesn’t mean he has no friends…. He really shouldn’t be making that sort of assumption…

Which… maybe he’s just busy hanging out with them or he has work or something.

“The answer will always be ‘no’ if you never ask,” Suki teases, and Sokka huffs a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he replies. “I’ll ask him when I see him later.” They draw to a stop where the walkway diverges, both of them needing to go in opposite directions for their next classes. Something glints in Suki’s gaze as she turns towards him. Sokka has no idea what the look is meant to mean, but he can feel his defenses rising almost instantly.

“You know, Sokka,” she begins, tone hesitant. She glances in the direction of her class before continuing. “I think Zuko really likes spending time with you… and I think maybe you like his company too.”

“Well… yeah,” he replies, somewhat confused. “He’s my friend. We have fun together.” Suki’s brows furrow, mouth twisting as if frustrated he’s not getting what she’s trying to say. “What is this about?”

“You just…” she starts, actually hesitating now. Her gaze remains averted, looking everywhere but at him. It’s… a little uncomfortable seeing confident Suki suddenly becoming nervous. “You haven’t mentioned your soulmate lately is all…”

Oh… he… he supposes he hasn’t…. But that’s not because of Zuko. He’s been busy with classes and term papers and… and work! Sure, the dreams are still there but… life and classes have been holding his attention.

“I’ve just been busy,” he mutters, feeling no conviction behind the worlds but unsure as to why. Sokka finds himself looking in the direction of his next classes as he says, “I’m not sure what Zuko has to do with my soulmate…  besides… I didn’t think you’d want to hear anymore about it. It’s not like anything has changed since the dreams started. I still don’t know who they are.”

“Yeah but… Zuko starts spending time with you and you suddenly stop talking about them all together,” she points out. “Don’t you think that might mean something?” Something akin to guilt twists uncomfortably in Sokka’s gut. He’s not… Zuko isn’t some sort of replacement… that’s not fair to him or his soulmate… besides, he and Zuko aren’t romantically involved.

There’s nothing going on between them other than friendship.

“I need to get to class,” he announces, suddenly unable or willing to continue this line of thought. Suki calls after him as he walks away to his next class. He ignores her, mind swimming with thoughts and implications of his growing friendship with Zuko.

The thoughts swirl through his mind for the rest of the day, digging into his mind and refusing to leave.

He’s not… Zuko’s just his friend .

There’s nothing more going on between them.

They hang out sure… study together when they have time. Get together for lunch if their schedules happen to line up.

Watch movers at the end of a long day…. Occasionally fall asleep on each other’s beds….

Sokka huffs, shaking his head of those thoughts. So what if they do all those things? It’s normal for friends to do that… and it’s normal for roommates to spend time together.

He has a soulmate for spirits’ sake! Zuko does too!

There’s nothing going on between them!

“Sokka?” He jumps, head whipping up from the book he’s been mindlessly staring at to find Zuko standing by the table. Zuko shifts where he’s standing, gaze concerned as he looks his friend over. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I…” Sokka frowns and shuts his book. “Actually… Do you think we could head back to the dorm? I don’t want to study in the library today.”

“Um… sure,” he replies, and patiently waits while Sokka packs up.

Neither of them speak until they’re outside the library.

“Sorry…” Sokka says, sighing. “Suki just brought something up and it’s been on my mind all day…”

“Oh…” Zuko says, fingers playing with the strap of his bag. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sokka shrugs because he honestly doesn’t know. For all the time they’ve spent together, neither of them has so much as mentioned a soulmate. Would it be too personal for him to bring up? Come to think of it… what are the Fire Nation’s customs when it comes to soulmates? From what Sokka knows, they tend to be a bit more reserved about traditions compared to the other nations.

Would he be somehow crossing a line to talk about it to Zuko?

Would Zuko even care? He’s been living in the Earth Kingdom for awhile now. Surely, he’s been privy to conversations about soulmates at this point.

“It’s about my soulmate,” Sokka blurts before he can overthink this further. Beside him, Zuko tenses. Sokka immediately regrets saying anything. “Sorry… We don’t have to talk about this if you’re not comfortable.”

“No,” Zuko says almost as quickly as Sokka had. He clears his throat. “No, I… it’s okay, if you want to talk about them. I don’t mind.” Sokka sighs, grateful that Zuko’s willing to listen but reluctant because maybe he really doesn’t want to talk about it…

“You know… I’ve spent my whole life waiting for the day I would meet my soulmate,” Sokka begins, somewhat forlorn. He gazes up at what little of the stars he can see through the light pollution. “Did you know my sister’s soulmate is the avatar?” He laughs a little. “Yeah… they had an almost instant connection. No guesswork with them.”

Sokka spares a glance at Zuko to find him listening, though there’s a tightness to his gaze.

“I was a little jealous at first, you know?” he continues. “It wasn’t until this year that I made the connection with mine… only, this campus is huge and there’s so many students here…” He frowns, troubled. “I have no idea who they even are…”

His mouth snaps shut, annoyance flaring within him. If he’s being honest, being with Zuko has been a great distraction and that makes him feel guilty. Makes him feel like he’s somehow cheating on his own soulmate.

“Sorry…” Sokka apologizes when Zuko offers up no words of wisdom. “I just… feel like I’m being ungrateful. Everyone keeps telling me to be patient, but they’ve already met their soulmates, and today… Suki, she-” He turns to Zuko, eyes wide and heart racing. Zuko watches him back, patiently waiting for him to keep speaking. Unassuming. Not judging. Just… patiently listening to his complaints.

Would Zuko even care if Sokka told him what Suki said?

“You know,” Zuko begins, thoughtfully. “My uncle used to say ‘waiting is like tea, and when you put the time into waiting, the tea will be perfect’... wait, no…” Sokka sputters, hand clamping down on his mouth as his shoulders begin to shake uncontrollably. Zuko frowns, face turning pink. His arms cross, shoulders rising as he hunches in on himself.

“It sounds better coming from my uncle…” he grumbles.

“I’m sure it does,” Sokka replies, gaining control of his laughter. He sighs, feeling an odd mix of happy and sad. The frown returns. “Suki just made me feel bad because I hadn’t brought up my soulmate lately…”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know who mine is either.”

“Actually… it does,” he says, grinning. “Are you having the dreams?”

“Um… yeah… since move-in.” Oh wow…. What a strange coincidence that is. Sokka laughs a little.

“Yeah, same,” he replies. “But I saw so many different people that day and no way of really knowing who they might be.”

“This is my first year on campus,” Zuko tells him. “So everyone in the dorms was new to me.”

“We should take bets to see who finds their first,” Sokka jokes. Zuko tenses. His face goes carefully blank, closing himself off completely. It’s such a strange transformation, the way Zuko seems to build his walls up and shut people out.

The friendly atmosphere between them freezes.

“I…” Zuko frowns, the troubled look in his golden gaze the only indication of his inner turmoil. He sighs and brushes a hand through his hair. “I don’t….” Sokka sighs.

“No…” he says. “You don’t have to explain yourself if you don’t want to.” Sokka’s honestly surprised by how much he means it. Zuko doesn’t have to tell him anything he’s not comfortable divulging. It’s not any of his business. Zuko can tell him when he’s ready if he chooses.

“I just don’t know if I’m ready to meet them yet,” he mumbles. He huffs out a wry sort of laugh and when he turns to meet Sokka’s gaze, his eyes are swimming with unshed tears. “Nobody wants a soulmate as broken as I am.”

Zuko angrily wipes at his face and picks up his pace. Sokka has to jog to catch up to him. His heart aches for his roommate. He might not know the whole story, and, really, it’s not any of his business whether he knows or not.

“Zuko, wait,” he says, grabbing onto his roommate’s shoulder. Zuko flinches, twisting out of his grasp as if he’s been burned. His hand slaps Sokka’s away. Sokka presses on, undeterred. “That’s not true!” Zuko opens his mouth to protest. “No, listen!” His mouth snaps shut, eyes wide in surprise.

“We may not know each other well,” Sokka says, determined to cheer his friend up. “But I’d hardly consider you broken. Sure… you might have a history and who doesn’t have some baggage, but you’re a nice guy. Kind. Thoughtful. Smart. You’re far more creative that any person I’ve ever known or met! Maybe you’re a little quiet, but there’s a gentleness underneath the sarcasm. Anyone would be lucky to have you for a soulmate.”

He wishes Zuko was his soulmate. Sokka blinks, feeling all his fight flee at the realization. Oh… is this what Suki meant earlier? What does that even mean for him and his soulmate?

Zuko scoffs, derailing any thoughts he might be having.

“Nobody wants to wake up to see such a hideous scar every day,” he says. His hand reaches up to brush against the marred flesh. Sokka watches the movement with a frown, wishing for the first time ever that it wouldn’t be rude to ask. He might not know what happened, but he has enough sense to know they aren’t close enough to ask about it.

“There’s nothing wrong with your face, Zuko,” Sokka tells him, looking away from his withering glare. He waves away whatever protest Zuko might have had. “No. Listen. I get that the scar is maybe a touchy subject, but you aren’t ugly, and I know your soulmate’s going to love waking up next to you every day. So… don’t count yourself so short. Don’t let that be the reason you don’t meet them.”

Zuko’s face is entirely red when Sokka dares look at him again. He can feel the heat in his own face and is thankful for his darker complexion. Zuko bites his lip and looks down the path they were walking on. At some point they both stopped, but Sokka can’t say for sure when that happened; both of them being too wrapped up in talk to notice.

“Thank you, Sokka,” he mumbles as they resume their trek back to the dorms. He glances at his friend out of the corner of his eyes. “For what it’s worth, I think anybody would be lucky to be your soulmate too.”

Yeah , Sokka thinks, grinning, I think so too.  

Thursday

Sokka’s just about to hit ‘send’ on his paper when the power goes out.

The power goes out five minutes before Sokka’s supposed to submit his paper.

There’s no power on campus and Sokka can’t submit the paper he just finished minutes before the deadline.

He stares at his screen. At the wifi signal in the corner indicating there’s no connection.

There’s no connection because the power went out.

Behind him Zuko lets out a groan of anguish. It’s echoed throughout the suddenly dark dorm.

“That was my midterm ,” he says, dismayed, and Sokka cringes. It’s bad enough that he can’t submit his paper but that’s all on him. He’s the one who waited until the last minute to submit it.

“Do you want me to text my sister?” Sokka offers as the thought occurs to him. “She lives off campus so you might be able to finish it at her place.”

“I don’t know if it’ll let me back in…” Zuko mumbles, casting the room in darkness as he shuts his laptop. Sokka’s laptop is the only thing lighting their room now, the screen displaying a message of no internet connection. He frowns, glancing outside to find even the streetlights are out.

“What are we supposed to do now?” he asks, idly watching people mill about outside.

“We could make shadow puppets?” Zuko suggests, pulling a set of candles out of his desk drawer. Sokka stares at the candles wondering distantly why he has a whole drawer full of them. Also, is he being serious about the shadow puppets? Somehow, he imagines Zuko’s terrible at making shadow puppets. Then again… he is an art student. Maybe he can make something crazy with his hands.

“You just… keep a drawer full of candles, huh?” he notes instead.

“I use them for meditating.”

“Oh..” Sokka says as Zuko begins placing candles around the room. “So like… scented candles then?” It shouldn’t matter, really, what kind of candles they are or why Zuko has them. Once they’re lit he can shut his laptop down. It’s a good thing he has those candles because Sokka’s laptop has shit battery life after all these years and it won’t last much longer on its charge.

“Some of them are scented,” Zuko explains, placing the final candles in its spot. “But it’s more of a breathing exercise for firebenders.”

“Makes sense,” Sokka replies, watching as Zuko begins lighting the candles with his bare hands. He blinks, taking a moment to process what he’s seeing, and then his eyes go wide. “Wait… you’re a firebender?!” Zuko laughs a little, lighting the final candle and allowing Sokka to shut his laptop.

“I guess it just never came up,” he says, shrugging. “And it’s not like you ever asked… so….” He stands in the center of the room, watching Sokka helplessly.

“Fair point.” Sokka eyes the candle closest to him. “Can you do any cool tricks?” He’s always trying to get Katara to do something fun with her bending, like how Aang has his air scooter thing, but she always gets crabby about it. Then she lectures him about how sacred bending is and how it shouldn’t be used for childish things. Which… is funny considering she does probending….

“I know some,” Zuko says sheepishly, snapping him out of his train of thought. “But there’s not enough room here to show you.” Sokka frowns, excitement fleeing him as quickly as it came. Aang’s the only person he’s met so far capable of firebending only… he doesn’t know enough yet to show off, and Katara’s never been any help in that department either. Toph recreated a perfect replica of Ba Sing Se once, right down to the citizens, but she can only do so much with rocks.

Sokka would much prefer to see some firebending tricks. They sound far more interesting than anything he’s seen so far.

“Oh!” Zuko says, face lighting up as if he’s just had a thought. “I might know something we can do.”  Sokka watches with interest as he returns to his desk. He pulls a bottle out of a drawer and asks, “Have you ever wished you could firebend?” Sokka’s immediately on board with whatever Zuko has planned.

“Yes!” In truth, he always wondered what waterbending was like. Mostly because waterbenders are far more common than firebenders in the Southern Water Tribe. He’ll take whatever he can get, though.

“Ok, so this was a really common, uh… game? Back in the Fire Nation,” Zuko explains, dragging his chair closer to Sokka. He holds up the bottle in his hand and Sokka squints at the label, trying to read it in their limited light. “It’s hand sanitizer.”

“What kind of game is this?” he asks, eyeing the bottle skeptically. What kind of games do they play in the Fire Nation that involves hand sanitizer of all things? He gingerly takes the bottle and snaps the cap off.

“I’m not really sure of all the rules. It was something more common with non-benders, but…” Zuko takes the bottle and squirts a liberal amount onto Sokka’s desk. He spreads it out evenly across the surface before lighting it on fire. Sokka sucks in a breath, eyeing the fire with alarm.

If Zuko wasn’t a firebender, he’d be concerned they were about to burn down their dorm. He’s fairly calm though for someone who just lit their roommate’s desk on fire . Zuko gestures to the flames, flaring blue from the combination of chemicals in the hand sanitizer.

“And then you just…. Swipe the flames up with your hand,” he finishes.

“ That’s your idea of fun in the Fire Nation?” Okay… Sokka knows, logically, that he agreed to whatever nonsense Zuko had in mind. He did not realize that meant possibly lighting himself on fire. Zuko visibly wilts at his statement, frowning as he puts the small fire out.

“Sorry…” he mumbles, and Sokka feels his heart break at how crestfallen he sounds.  

“I’m not exactly immune to fire, Zuko,” he points out weakly.

“And you think I am ?” He’s glowering at Sokka now, golden gaze intense enough to make Sokka squirm. There’s something in those words that strike deep. A hidden meaning that has Sokka staring at the scar on his face, wondering once again what the story behind it is. He wants to ask. Wants so badly to know, but refrains because it’s rude to pry and Zuko should tell him whenever he’s ready to (if he’s ever ready to).

Zuko huffs, shifting in his seat and says, “I wouldn’t suggest something if I thought you would get hurt, you know.”

“So it’s safe then?” Zuko shrugs as if he has no idea how safe it really is. “That’s… not very encouraging…”

“Well I’ve never had a reason to do this,” Zuko comments, which… fair. “But it was really popular with non-benders growing up and I can put it out before anything bad happens.” And when Zuko puts it like that Sokka can’t see a reason not to try.

Which is precisely how Sokka ends up where he is approximately ten minutes later, nursing a nasty looking burn on the inside of his wrist. He pulls the compress away from the spot, hiss as it rubs against tender flesh. A washcloth is probably too rough for something like this but it’s all they had.

He frowns at the mark. Katara’s never going to stop lecturing him on this… especially when she finds out he got medical attention without telling her. What he wouldn’t give for her healing right about now…

Sadly, he can not and will not get her involved. The last thing he needs is her blaming Zuko for this and he’s not about to subject his roommate to her neverending grudges. Besides… Zuko’s a firebender. Surely he knows better than anyone how to treat burns.

The door clicks open and said roommate steps back into the room. Regret and guilt roll off him in waves as he steps over to Sokka to inspect the burn. He places an unlabelled bottle on the desk.

“Let this air dry for a bit,” Zuko mumbles, apology lacing his voice. He gestures to the bottle. “Then put some of that on. It’s a salve to help the burn. My uncle dropped it off for me.” Oh so that explains where he disappeared to for twenty minutes. He flashes Zuko a grin. Zuko gives him a sheepish look then turns away.

“Do I need to bandage it?” Sokka asks, trying to break the silence.

“Um…” Zuko spares the mark a glance but doesn’t meet Sokka’s eyes. “You might want to before bed so it doesn’t rub all night.”

Sokka scowls. Zuko’s making that face of his again. The one Sokka has quickly realized means he feels bad and wants to apologize but also feels guilty because he’s been apologizing for the past hour.

“Stop beating yourself up over it,” he says and Zuko flinches, finally meeting his eye. “Accidents happen, you know? It’s not your fault.”

“Can I at least like… take you out for tea or something? To make up for it?”

“If that’ll make you feel better then sure,” Sokka responds with a grin, entirely touched by the offer. Oh… right… he and his friends had plans this weekend. “Actually…” he begins, feeling somewhat bad that he nearly forgot to invite Zuko. “We were going to go to this new place off campus on Saturday if you wanted to come with? You could always treat me to tea there?” And Zuko’s looking apologetic again.

“I have work on Saturday,” he confesses. Well… that’s…. disappointing…. His disappointment must be reading on his face because Zuko quickly adds, “I’ll be around Sunday, though, if you wanted?”

“Sure,” Sokka says, grin returning to his face. Excitement courses through him at the idea of just them going out for tea. Below that, is once more guilt, over being excited about spending the day with someone not his soulmate. They’re just going as friends though. Sokka knows this…. Zuko’s not interested in him like that anyways.

Sokka shakes himself of the thought and says, “Sunday sounds nice.”

Friday

Suki notices because of course she does. She stares pointedly at the bandage carefully wrapped around his wrist and says, “What happened there?”

“Uh…” he says, heat rising to his face. He still hasn’t figured out what to tell everyone else. The truth would be a good idea but he’s not sure how the others might feel knowing it was Zuko’s idea. Then again…. Sokka did go along with it… which just makes him feel stupid. Toph will absolutely laugh her ass off over it.

He’s never been very good at lying to Suki though….

“I… burned myself last night….” he admits. Around them the dining hall’s filled with conversation. Most of it seems to be about last night’s sudden power outage. So far all his professors have extended any deadlines affected by the outage. He hopes maybe Zuko’s professor put an extension on that exam. Would suck if he failed over something out of his control…

“And what exactly were you doing that involved fire?” she asks.

“Lighting candles?”

“You were lighting candles and burned yourself bad enough you needed to bandage it.”

“Did you know Zuko was a firebender?” he asks because he can’t help it, and keeping secrets from Suki is just downright impossible. Girl can sniff out a secret like a shirshu.

“You know…” she says thoughtfully. “That would make a lot of sense…” Suki laughs a little then, eyes glinting with a sense of sudden knowledge as she teasingly says, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with fire?”

“In my defense, I was told it would be safe.” And even that sounds weak in his ears. Suki just stares at him with that sort of disappointed look he just knows Katara would be giving him if she were to find out.

“Katara’s going to kill you,” she points out.

“ Katara won’t as long as you don’t tell her.” It’s not any of her business anyways. If he wants to bond with his roommate through stupid dangerous activities then that’s his prerogative.

“Oh, I don’t have to tell her anything. She’s going to find out when you show up tomorrow for tea with that bandage on your wrist.” Sokka stares with mounting horror. He… he really hadn’t considered that last night. She’s bound to notice and when she does she’s going to ask about it.

He groans, sliding down in his seat as he pokes at his food which has long since gone cold. They’ve been so wrapped up in the conversation that neither of them have finished lunch. Well… Suki seems to be mostly done so… he’s barely eaten and a quick glance at the clock has him sucking in a breath.

“ Shit, ” he hisses, hastily throwing his bag over his shoulder and collecting everything. “I need to get to class.”

He gives her a parting wave before fleeing to dump his food and get to class on time.

He grabs some fruit on his way out.

Saturday

Katara absolutely notices the mark on the wrist when Sokka and Suki go over to her place in the morning. He left it unwrapped hoping that it would just blend into his already dark skin to absolute failure.

“He and Zuko were playing with candles the other night,” Suki gleefully tells her. She thankfully leaves out the part where he’s a firebender. He’s not sure he can handle that revelation just yet.

“ Zuko? ” Katara snaps, giving him a curious look. Toph barks out a laugh as they make their way down the road to the Jasmine Dragon.

“My roommate?” Sokka offers, frowning at the girl.

“Oh this is going to be great,” Toph cheers, refusing to reveal whatever hidden knowledge she’s keeping secret.

“Why were you playing with candles?” Katara asks, choosing to ignore Toph’s laughter. Suki won’t stop shooting the earthbender looks like she’s trying to sort through clues.

“The power went out,” he tells her. “Didn’t you hear about it?” Aang sidles up to his side, gently taking his hand and inspecting the mark. He runs a finger over it and Sokka flinches. “It’s still sensitive…”

“That’s an odd spot for lighting candles,” Aang comments. Sokka stiffens and yanks his arm away with a frown. Katara’s giving him that disappointed mom look now. He hates that look.

“Sokka-”

“Oh look,” he says loud enough to cut her off. “Is that the Jasmine Dragon?” Sure enough the building comes into view and with it, the long line of students also looking to check the place out. He wilts a little at the prospect of being subjected to Katara’s torment while they wait.

Katara, thankfully, drops the subject with the unspoken promise of revisiting it later. Sokka just hopes he can escape before she’s able to corner him.

Fortunately, the line seems to move quickly and soon they find themselves stepping up to be seated.

Several things happen then as they’re led to an open table. Katara sucks in a breath, stopping short as she looks around the shop.

“ You, ” she hisses, face twisting with contempt. Everyone stops, turning back to follow her line of sight and…

“ Zuko? ” Sokka squawks because… this is the job he disappears off to? Zuko stands by a table, eyes wide like a fox antelope caught in its tracks as he stares at Katara. “Wait…” Sokka turns to his sister. “You know him?” He can feel the pieces beginning to connect but one piece remains just out of reach. Toph’s cackling is followed by Suki’s snort of laughter as she finally connects the dots.

“Zuko!” Aang greets, bouncing over to Sokka’s statue of a roommate. His approach seems to knock Zuko out of his shock. And how does Aang know Zuko?

“Hey, genius,” Toph says, suddenly at Sokka’s side. The slap on his back is hard enough to rock him forward. “I didn’t know your roommate was a firebender!”

A strange disconnect happens in Sokka’s brain then, as the two separate people are suddenly jammed together into one entity.

Sokka becomes painfully aware that Zuko, his roommate, is also the firebending teammate of Katara and Toph.

He groans, secretly wishing Toph could just open the earth and let it swallow him whole.

Today is going to be a long day…